Launchpad rested his hands against the bonnet of Mr McDee's car, panting. The warm metal signalled that he had made it back to the garage, safe. He let out a deep huff of air and slumped back against the car. How could his parents do this to him? How could Dewey? If he never saw another airshow in his life, he'd be happy. Airshows always came first in his family. He was done with them.

"Launchpad? Can I come in?" Loopey stood in the garage door, hands clasped in front of her, turning over themselves. "I didn't know Mom and Dad planned to jump you. I was just there for my stunts. I'm sorry."

Launchpad strode over and wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay, Loops. What Mom and Dad do… its never been your fault. I'm not mad at you."

Loopey's fingers dug into his back. Then she pushed him back. "So, if you're not mad at me, why have you been avoiding me? I've seen you, once, since you left home. And I know it was awkward as heck. But you don't have to come to my airshows. You could try and see me otherwise, but you've never really tried."

"I thought you wouldn't want to see me."

"Don't be daft, Launchpad! You're my big brother. Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

"Because I abandoned you."

Loopey squeezed his arm. "You didn't. You left because of Mom and Dad. But they got a lot better after you left. Don't think I didn't notice. I saw the disappointment every time they played with me. And you were hardly home, you always stayed out as late as you could, without getting in trouble, didn't you? At least you did until Dad was home, after the crash. But you never made me feel like how you felt was my fault."

"I didn't want to leave you, Loopey. Dad didn't really give me a choice."

"Wait, he made you leave?"

"No, he just, he made it clear I should. Look, I don't want to talk about this…"

Loopey hugged him again. "It's okay. You don't have to." She looked around. "You live in your boss's garage?"

She had made the change of topic easy, and Launchpad was grateful. But his mind spun, trying to keep up. "Wait, huh? How'd you know it's Mr McDee's and I live here?"

"His name's on the front," Loopey jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "And," She strode past the car to where Launchpad kept his sofa and swept her arms around to encompass his living space. "I'd recognise your decorating anywhere." She pointed around as she turned. "Everything stuffed in socks, fairy lights, pizza boxes…" She continued her spin, picking her way over a scattered shirt and the pizza boxes. Launchpad trailed behind her. "And… wait! Is that all our VHS tapes? Do these even still work?"

"Yeah! Do you want to watch one?"

"Yes! Darkwing Duck! I remember this. Mom said I was too young to watch it. But whenever she and Dad were out, you'd let me."

"That was a lot," Launchpad muttered as he sunk onto the sofa.

Loopey picked up one of the tapes, turned it over, and then sat beside him. "They got better, you know. They had you pretty young."

"I remember when Dad started coming home all the time. I thought it was so great. But it was only because I'd hurt him. Loopey, I really hurt him. His career ended because of that crash. I don't blame him for being mad. I ruined his life."

"His career as a stunt pilot," said Loopey. "He still flies planes. He still trains young pilots. He loves that. Besides, his life should've been about you anyway. And I think that might've been the best thing that happened to Dad. He told me being hurt was the only way he got out of his terrible contract with his manager. And he actually got to be home with his family. And after you left, he did seem sad, at first. But he got better. And he figured out he could do the training and still fly planes, and, and he seemed happier than I remember, less stressed. It's hard to explain. I just wish you'd been there. You'd know what I mean."

Launchpad gulped. "I'm glad he was there. For you. You deserved that."

"So did you."

"Yeah."

"They do want to make it up to you."

Launchpad swallowed hard. He took the tape off Loopey. "Let's just watch an episode, okay?"

"Sure." Loopey grinned. "These were always so much fun…"

Outside, an aeroplane roared overhead, drowning her out. Then, as its buzz died, Gasoline's voice, booming and easily heard even from here, rang out. "Next up in five we have, beating her father's time in nearly every instance, Loopey McQuack!"

Loopey put a hand to her face. "Aw, crap."

Launchpad's heart sank as he put the VHS on the coffee table and forced a smile. She wasn't his dad, he reminded himself. She'd probably worked hard for this. "Go on. You don't want to be late."

Loopey stared back at him. "Seriously? Go on, put in the tape."

"I'm not in the mood to watch it by myself."

Loopey grabbed his arm. "Launchpad, I'm not going. I haven't seen you in years. I mean, it's just a stupid airshow, right? You're more important."

A lump rose in Launchpad's throat. "I… you… you want to stay? With me? Instead of choosing the airshow?"

"Yeah, aw, LP…"

Launchpad choked over a sob and let his sister pull him into her arms.

"You should give them another chance." They hadn't ended up watching Darkwing Duck. Loopey sat close to Launchpad, her arm still around him. "They really have changed."

"I know. I wanted to see them, eventually. I just wish they hadn't jumped me like this." Launchpad turned the VHS tape over in his hands. "I can't keep avoiding them, can I?"

"Do you want to avoid them?"

"No. I just wasn't ready." Launchpad gulped at the lump in his throat and forced a smile. "At least they treated you okay? You said Dad was there more."

"Yeah. I think they went the other way. Dad was a bit overprotective. Especially when I was a teenager. I think the only reason I didn't steal an aeroplane was because you'd already done it and… I mean, I was a bit mad at him, but I knew that'd upset him too much."

"He didn't want to let you fly either?"

"At the time, I thought it was because I was a girl. So I just made a point of outflying all the boys instead," Loopey grinned. "Which, you know, wasn't hard. And I think Mom talked to him, and he gave him. Now, you should see his face after he's watched me fly. He couldn't be happier I get to do that. But, you know, I think when I said I wanted to fly, it just made him think of everything that had happened with you, and he didn't want all that stuff to happen to me, you know?"

Launchpad frowned. Maybe his little sister was right. Perhaps he should give his parents another chance. But he couldn't let them be the ones pushing him around. He had to take the lead. He shot to his feet. "I'm going to invite them to dinner."

Loopey frowned at his kitchen. "What here?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"You… ready for that?"

Launchpad squared his shoulders. "There's only one way to find out." He turned to the garage door but couldn't quite convince his feet to move. "Um, Loopey? Can you come with me?"

"Of course. I've got your back, big bro."

Ripcord stood with a bunch of younger pilots near the Sunchaser's hanger. "I don't care what he offered you," he was saying. "Don't sign any sort of contract with Gasolini. You're a good pilot, Brett. Someone will pick you up eventually."

"I know you keep saying that, but he has all the best planes…" Brett, a shaggy gold retriever, groaned, and his shoulders slumped.

"And he's a complete jerk," Ripcord put a hand on his shoulder. "He'll treat you like crap. And he'll let the rest of his pilots treat you like crap. There's a reason I don't let you guys harass each other too much and…"

Brett raised his hands with a soft smile. "Okay, okay, I don't need the lecture, Mr McQuack."

Ripcord had his back to him and his sister, and Launchpad, despite keeping up a steady stride that Loopey had struggled to keep up with, found himself screeching to a halt. He should have tried to find Mom instead. It wasn't only the thought of speaking to his father again that made his stomach tighten. It was how close he was to Brett, and the fact he actually seemed to be taking an interest in the boy's desire to be a pilot. He'd been training all these pilots, huh? But he hadn't wanted to teach his own son.

Loopey squeezed his hand, then stepped past him.

"Loopey, wait," Launchpad whispered harshly, but it was too late.

"He's right, Brett," said Loopey. "If you want, I can put in a good word for you with my manager. I mean, you nearly beat my time in the trials."

"You said I sucked!" Brett said.

Ripcord groaned. "Loopey, come on. I've just been telling them not to bully each other. I can't have my own daughter..."

"Dad, I can say stuff like that - I'm not threatening."

"That's not the point!"

"It's okay," said Brett with a grin, swinging a loose punch at Loopey's shoulder, "We're only mucking around. We know where the line is."

"Launchpad." Ripcord had finally spotted him. "You came back?"

"Um, yeah, I…"

"Wait, this is your son you keep telling us about?" said Brett. "Aw, that's great you guys made back up. Mr McQuack hasn't stopped talking about you for these last few months. We didn't even know he had a son before that."

"I'm not quite sure we have yet. Made back up." His father didn't seem as big as Launchpad remembered. He chewed his lip, hanging back, cautious. Not the man who would fling his stunt plane around without a shred of fear. "Me and your Mom, it was your Mom's idea, but…" He shook his head. "Argh, that's not an excuse. I went along with it. And I'm sorry…"

"I wanted to invite you and Mom to dinner," Launchpad blurted out before he changed his mind.

"Yeah?" A grin slowly spread across Ripcord's face. "Launchpad, I…" He moved towards him, but Launchpad took an involuntary step back. "I'm glad, son," Ripcord said, pausing. Instead of going for a hug, he reached out slowly, slowly enough to give Launchpad a chance to back off. When he didn't, he squeezed his shoulder. "Of course, we'll be there."

Even that slight touch sent a flood of warmth through Launchpad. When was the last time his father had reached out for him like that? He forced a smile. This was it. He was going to see his parents again. And everything was going to go just fine.

Gasolini sat in his big swivel chair in his office. Across from him, leaning against the wall, was Bomber Beagle, one of his pilots. Next to Bomber sat the man who had first come to him with his request. The man who was also completely ignoring Gasolini and tapping away on his phone. "Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

Mark Beaks groaned and lowered his phone. His fingers kept tapping away, accompanied by annoying bloops and bleeps. But he glared straight at Gasolini. "Ah, yes. All you've got to do is get me on that plane. Get your boy here," and he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Bomber, "to fly her. All I need is twenty minutes in the air to download all of Birdie McQuack's programming. Then, I'll have everything I need to make my own best delivery system. I'll corner the market and use this…" He held up his phone. "To tell everyone what they should buy. And I'll be the only guy supplying it within minutes to their doorstep."

"Still don't understand why you need me to fly the plane away," said Bomber. "Not that I don't want to have a go. It looks awesome. But can't you just let us sneak you on whilst it's in the hanger? You know, do it while everyone is asleep?"

Gasolini rolled his eyes. "Bomber, you bloody idiot. I'm the one who wants you to take the plane up! I'm not just going to let this nerd on it unless he does something for me. That's how business works. None of you idiots understand that. Which is why I'm the guy making the big bucks, and you've just got to do what I say."

"Business, huh?" Mark Beaks said with a smirk. "Sounded more like revenge to me."

"Ripcord McQuack has cost me millions!" Gasolini slammed a fist down on the desk, making the stacks of paper about him jump. And Mark Beaks, which mercifully made the bleeping stop for a brief second. "If he'd continued to fly as my stunt pilot, I'd have made a killing. And I had an iron-clad contract - or so I thought - which meant I could keep 99% of the profits, and no one else could touch him. But he weaselled out of it just because his idiot son made him crash.

"And everyone loved him for it. People are such saps. Poor, poor, Ripcord. Can't fly his favourite planes anymore. Cut down in his prime! But he didn't let that tragedy get to him, oh no. He decided to use his skills to pass on his knowledge and train young pilots, and he doesn't even charge half of them. So brave! So noble! But I know the truth. That 'bum leg' story is bull shit, and I want the whole world to know. So tell me, Mr Beaks, can your social media do that for me?"

Mark Beaks cackled. "Can social media take a man's reputation and tear it to shreds in a matter of minutes? Oh, sweetheart, that's what it was built for. All you've got to do is give me the right footage, and I'll make it spread like wildfire."

Gasolini grinned a wolfish grin. "Yeah, I can give you that. You and Bomber just help me put on a bit of a show. You can grab your data or whatever the hell you need. And together, we are going to make Ripcord McQuack look like the coward he is."

A/n: Gasolini was a perfectly nice side character in the original DT87 episode of this. But I needed a villain, so... I mean, they did it to poor Doofus.

I'm trying to finish up the draft of this thing in the next week, before I have to go back to work. So hopefully should be posting some more chapters fairly soon.

Please leave me some reviews! :)