An Author's Note: Some worldbuilding notes.
The U.S.A does not exist in the Negaverse, rather what would be the U.S. is divided into four much smaller countries. Calisota, where St. Canard and Duckburg are located, Texaholma, which reaches from the Rocky Mountains to the Mississippi River, and North New England and South New England.
Slavery is legal in Texaholma and North and South New England, but it's not based on race. It's based usually on if you owe someone to much money and can't pay up, or in the case of some, if someone manages to kidnap you and sell you off. Slaves can buy themselves via work, but in some places it can be difficult if downright impossible. Slavery is only fully illegal in Calisota.
Hey it's the Negaverse. It rather sucks.
Chapter 20
Origins of the Metallic Menace
It was a nice, peaceful night at the local Wolfton Hippo Burger. Not a single customer in the small town had decided they wanted a midnight snack, so the teenage kit fox at the counter of the fast food place had ample time to mess around on his handheld game while he waited for the nonexistent customers to come. Wolfton was a small town, miles away from Duckburg or St. Canard, and populated mostly by wolves and other canids. Despite being a bit to close to the Calisota/Texaholma border it was peaceful. Sure, sometimes they would be raided by independent slavers from the neighboring country, but it wasn't that often. Sure you had to lock your door at night (or get a few guard dogs), but it was livable. All in all it was a pretty nice place to live.
The fox at the counter, he was the only one there aside from the night cook, was pretty happy all things considered. He just asked a cute collie girl out to the prom next week, and despite their height difference she had accepted. He was close to buying a car with the money he saved up working at the Hippo Burger. He had both parents happy at home (a lot of kids in Wolfton couldn't say the same, for border reasons), and he managed to squeak by a C on his algebra homework. All in all, life was good.
Then the door to the Hippo Burger slammed open and the night was pretty much ruined for the poor employees.
The fox looked up and nearly had a heart attack at the tender age of seventeen. He never expected to see the duck in front of him. Sure he had seen the occasional water fowl pass through on their way to wherever, but none of them had been wearing that distinctive metal suit with more weapons on it then the armed forces. None of the weapons were specifically aimed at the fox, but he knew that could change in a moment.
The cook took one look at Gizmoduck and ran out the back, leaving his co worker alone to face the fury.
Gizmoduck slammed his hand on the counter with only slightly more force then strictly necessary and glared at the fox. "I have no money."
The fox blinked in confusion.
A deep sigh, then. "I need food."
The fox's eyes darted to the menu as he weighed the cost of a car against his life. Hell, he could afford a meal for a starving lunatic that could turn him into a smear on the counter. "Ummm, how may I take your order?" He squeaked.
Gizmoduck seemed to just stare at the fox, although since he was wearing that helmet and visor his trembling victim couldn't tell if he was looking at the menu or not. For all the fox knew the terrifying figure before him could be staring blankly into space for the entire interaction.
"...number one. Double meat. Two waters." Oh sweet god the voice made the fox want to hide. It sounded like the man in the suit was one wrong word away from breaking his neck. It was the voice of a man barely hanging on to his temper and the cashier's life was passing before his eyes even as he resigned himself to making the burger on his own because the damn cook ditched him like a coward.
Thank god the fox had made orders before.
It didn't take long for the fox to make the food and, assuming that Gizmoduck wasn't going to sit at a table and eat (honestly the thought almost made the cashier break out into hysterical giggles, emphasis on the hysteria), he put it all in a to go bag and handed it to Gizmoduck.
Was it the fox's imagination or were Gizmoduck's hands shaking? No, it wasn't. The man was shaking and badly, and the fox wondered just how hungry Gizmoduck was. He supposed that deranged manics did get hungry. He couldn't help himself.
"...how long has it been since you ate?"
The fox almost instantly regretted his question as Gizmoduck looked at him. Oh god why didn't he keep his muzzle shut?
"...three days." Gizmoduck popped the top of one of the water bottles and guzzled it down in one gulp.
Without knowing why the fox pulled out another and slid it to the duck. For some reason he was starting to feel a bit sorry for Gizmoduck, though he wasn't sure why. Something about the way Gizmoduck was clearly still shaking underneath the armor he wore.
Gizmoduck stared at the fox again, took the water bottled and left peacefully.
The cashier let out a breath and locked up for the night. He was done for the night, and he didn't care if he was fired.
Much later a small fire burned in the woods outside the small town of Wolfton. A scrawny duck sat on a log next to the fire, eating the rest of the fries and glaring angrily at the Gizmosuit visor.
"I nearly killed that kid. I was two seconds away from just grabbing him and tearing his head off." Fenton growled and crunched the last of his fries. "But why?"
The Gizmosuit offered no answer. Or at least, not a spoken one. The damn visor seemed to mock him, though. If it could talk it would probably tell him he should have killed the kid for asking to many stupid questions. For taking his damn time making the food. For mocking him. For laughing at him...
"But he didn't do any of that." Fenton shook his head. "Why do I think he did?"
It was something he only really noticed after the fight with the plant thing that had protected Scrooge, something he only noticed after Scrooge had taken the armor for that brief amount of time. He hadn't really noticed it during the event, but after he had gotten some distance and taken off the armor again that it really sunk in.
Every time he wore the Gizmosuit it filled him with incomprehensible rage. An urge to kill. Every time he wore it he was certain the people around him were talking about him behind his back. Laughing. Mocking. That was alright. He could handle it. But then he became more and more certain that at some point they were going to betray him. Hurt him or kill him.
Or send him back to prison.
Juvie had been bad enough. He couldn't imagine what real prison was like.
It occurred to Fenton that every time he used the suit he became more and more paranoid, especially about McDuck. When Gandra and Gyro and Launchpad suggested that he should help them rob Scrooge so he could get away before the old man sent him back to prison he had agreed. But why? When the hell had Scrooge even mentioned sending him back to prison as a possibility? He had been so sure at the time the three had been right but...
He had been wearing the suit at the time they suggested it.
And Gearloose made the suit.
Maybe it wasn't just a suit?
He could swear the suit was looking at him right now, even though it was empty. Sitting on the other side of the fire and staring at him. But it wasn't a person! It was a hunk of metal and wires and metal and wires couldn't lie to you! Couldn't trick you into making the biggest mistake of your life!
Eventually Fenton had to go to sleep.
And he could swear the suit was still staring at him with its single cyclopean eye.
He was seven (possibly) years old and his mother hated him.
Little Fenton didn't know why, but after a long day counting beans his mother would come home, throwing things at him and his father, who she always accused of being a dead beat, and screaming at them both. Then she'd slump in the battered couch and stare at the tv. If either of the males in the trailer dared peep when she was watching her tv there would be more throwing and yelling.
So he never talked to his mother. Instead he spent most of his time with his father.
At twenty six (he thought he was twenty six, he wasn't really sure how old he was he never had a birthday celebration when he was a child) he could barely remember his father. All he could remember was a kind voice and brown feathers and a man trying to teach young Fenton about...science things that the little duck couldn't understand. But little Fenton could count. He always was good at counting. He couldn't understand partial acceleration but he won a bike at a contest by counting the jellybeans. It seemed to puzzle his father but the older duck took it in stride.
Then one night his mother can home in a rage and savagely beat his father to death with a frying pan and then she came at him with the weapon and all of a sudden her mouth was full of sharp vampire teeth and she was going to tear him apart bit by bit and this time he couldn't escape and-
And then Fenton woke up to see that Gimzosuit visor had rolled next to him during the night. Was he imagining the voice coming from the suit, telling him that his mother had murdered his father and that he was going to be next?
Fenton growled and shoved the visor away.
"No, that's not how it happened she didn't..." He rubbed his head. Why did his head always hurt these days? "She didn't do it on purpose..."
Or had she? Fenton wasn't sure anymore.
That somehow scared him more than the Gizmosuit's cold gaze.
Fenton remembered what happened after his father died. He was sure his mother kicked him out of the house. Or maybe she chased him out. It was to muddled to remember clearly. But he did remember he left the trailer and never looked back.
The streets of Duckburg were almost as bad as the trailer. Gangs were everywhere. You couldn't live long without a gang.
So in the end, Fenton joined one. He never went back to school either. Why, when no one was around to care?
Duckworth didn't care. All he cared about was getting kids to do his dirty work. Most of his dirty work was drugs. Adult Fenton looking back knew this. Child Fenton had no idea. All he knew was that as soon as Duckworth noticed the boy's aptitude for numbers he started to take him on various deals. Fenton had one job, and he did it well.
Duckworth would take him to meet some shady looking people. They would open a briefcase, or a bag or pull out a wallet and just lay down some money. Fenton would look at it.
"Five hundred." He'd count out. Or seven hundred or a thousand. However much it was, Fenton could tell instantly how much money was there. The buyer would stare at him, astonished. Then one of two things would happen.
On a good day Duckworth would hand over a bag of stuff. Fenton was told if he ever tried to do anything to the aforementioned stuff he'd never be able to walk again. Fenton believed Duckworth when he said that. He'd seen the dog do it enough times to other boys. Sometimes they'd even live through it. So Fenton never touched the stuff they were selling. He didn't think it was good stuff anyway, so he never tried. They would take the money and Duckworth would pat him on the head and tell Fenton in his weird Cockney English accent that Fenton was a good boy. Maybe, if it had been a really good sale, Duckworth might buy Fenton an ice cream. Even though Fenton didn't fully trust his new guardian the praise and the treat did make him feel better and for a moment made him feel like he was appreciated and wanted. Maybe even liked.
(He never dared hope that one day he might actually be loved, like a son.)
But then there were the bad days, when he would say the wrong number. Oh he was always right in his calculations, but that didn't mean it was the right number. The wrong number ended in guns and shooting and death, and Duckworth's young enforcer Launchpad (an older boy who Fenton was also afraid of even though he was the closest thing Fenton had to an older brother) would break the cheaters necks. Then Duckworth would curse at them all and they would go back to the hideout and avoid their enraged boss.
It went on like that for years.
Until the Avenger.
Some called him the Duck Avenger, others called him Duckburg's Avenger. Whatever you called him the hero of Duckburg would swoop around all the time, busting gangs and criminals and who knew what else. He seemed very protective of Scrooge McDuck's Money Bastion, even though the old Scottish duck would constantly go on the news, ranting about how the Avenger was a fool who was putting his life on the line for no reason. The Avenger was a frightening, magical figure who somehow launched fireballs and lighting bolts at his enemies and occasionally purple light that would cause jinxes to befall his hapless foes.
Maybe if Duckworth hadn't gone after Scrooge's Bastion that one time then they wouldn't have drawn the attention of the Avenger.
Fenton would never forget how the heroic duck had busted into their hideout, calling out Duckworth by name and grappling Launchpad to the ground like it was nothing. Fenton also remembered how Duckworth ran and locked his boys in the hideout while he escaped via a secret tunnel in the basement that only he knew about. He locked the gang in with the Avenger to provide a distraction while Duckworth escaped scott free. All the boys had been rounded up. Relativity gently, but still rounded up. The fact that all of them had been abandoned didn't make Fenton feel any less betrayed by their boss. Not even him, Duckworth's most valuable asset, or his chief enforcer Launchpad had been spared.
It didn't bother Launchpad.
It bothered Fenton.
Prison was hell.
He heard it was worse for adults, but it was bad enough for a fifteen (about) year old boy. He'd spend the rest of his teenage years here, fighting for his life. Launchpad occasionally gave him a hand, but it was rare.
It was worse when they let them outside. Gang lines still seemed to exist here, unless you were weak. And Fenton was weak. The other people from the old gang didn't even try to help him as the stronger boys would gang up and beat him up. It wasn't even that they didn't like him. They were bored. He was weak, and the weak didn't last long in any prison, even for younger children.
He was seventeen (maybe) when one of the stronger boys finally pinned him to the ground, determined to finish him once and for all. For all the time he was here all Fenton felt was terror. He knew he was a victim. He knew he was never going to survive. He knew this was the day that he'd finally die. He didn't want to die though. He wanted to live but the bigger kid was hitting him so hard and thought he could feel bones fracturing and blood on his beak and he was so scared...
He wasn't sure when his hand brushed a rock but all of a sudden it was in his hand. He swung and hit his tormentor on the head. To Fenton's shock it knocked the other boy to the side. The boy glared and Fenton and raised his fist and Fenton knew that if he left himself be hit again it would be over.
So he slammed the rock over and over at the other boy's head until he stopped moving.
(And in the night, years later the Gizmosuit would somehow remind him how good it felt to have power over another. How good it felt to be the one doing the beating instead of the one being beaten. How powerful he felt shedding the blood of his enemies and making sure they would never hurt him again. How great it felt when the other boys watching would shrink away from him when he raised the bloody rock at them and threatened their lives for once. Just push down the sick feeling in his gut when looked down at the mess he made the person he hurt and just focus on how angry he was and how lashing out in anger had freed him...)
Fenton never knew if the other boy lived or not.
But no one messed with him after that.
When he finally got out Fenton was determined to never go back. He was an adult now, after all (He could be twenty or twenty one but there was a good possibility he was actually still just nineteen). It would be worse the next time. Mostly because while the guards never lifted a finger to help anyone they did record that he was 'violent'. Even though there had been only one 'incident.'
He wasn't violent. He wasn't a bad person. He had a bad start, but so did plenty of people. Getting thrown out of your house and living on the streets wasn't rare, and there were plenty of people who had gone on to live productive lives despite their childhoods.
He was fortunate. He had a skill. And he didn't have to use it for bad this time. He could find a way to use it for good.
So when he found a flyer advertising an accounting job for Scrooge McDuck, Fenton jumped on it. He had to hike to the Money Bastion, but it wasn't that hard. Getting in with literally no resume or references was hard, but as soon as he demonstrated what he could do with numbers Scrooge was willing to give him a shot.
(He didn't like the look the man's nephew Donald gave him, as if he already judged Fenton as a problem, but as long as Scrooge was willing to hire him his relatives could take a take a hike as far as Fenton was concerned.)
"So lad," Scrooge said after the demonstration and his nephew had fumed away in frustration. "You have two choices. You can either take the full pay, and find your own lodging and food, or you can take the half pay and room and board in the Bastion. We have several employees who find it more cost effective to live on site. Even have some full families here."
He had no way to drive to the Bastion and he was not going to live in god help him another trailer. An apartment at the fully protected Bastion, where all he had to do was go up an elevator to work sounded perfect. So that's what he signed up for. The rooms in the Bastion were small, basically just a single room with a long desk attached to one wall, a window at one end, and a bathroom at the other end next to the door. It was small and narrow but it was plenty of room for the little that Fenton had and it wasn't a trailer. At some point he was able to afford his own tv, though he didn't have cable he did obtain a vcr. Tapes were just fine for him. He had a nice collection going after two years of saving.
Every day he'd wake up and take the elevator to the Bastion's cafeteria. There he'd get served by Burger Beagle. The Bastion was mostly staffed by the Beagle family. Ma Beagle was apparently Scrooge's housekeeper. She was one of the few allowed to take the underground railway that led to Killmotor hill and Scrooge's home, where his nephews were. Scrooge trusted the kind woman so much most of his employees came from her family. Beagle boys were everywhere in the Bastion, doing everything from maintenance to archiving to janitorial work to office jobs. Fenton never actually made any friends with them, but he was good enough acquaintances with most.
After breakfast he'd go to the top floor and do whatever counting things that Scrooge needed done. Mostly it was to make sure all his money was where it was supposed to be, in the bin that the was the heart of the Bastion. Fenton even managed to keep the fact that he had never been to actual school and was never really educated a secret from Scrooge.
He couldn't keep that secret from the boys though.
Huey, Dewey and Louie came to the Bastion often, mostly to keep an ear out for the next adventure with their Uncle. Every day, after their own time at school. They had a tendency to get underfoot, so Scrooge would often leave Fenton with the three in his office. It was touching that Scrooge trusted him enough to leave him alone with his beloved nephews.
(And at what point did you start to take that for granted Fenton Crackshell you blithering idiot...)
At some point during their in Bastion homework sessions Dewey figured out that Fenton didn't know the nations of the Americas or who won World War two or why the sky was blue or what friction was. All Fenton had been taught was how to count and read street signs and sign his own name. It was humiliating that these three children knew more about how the world worked then he did.
(Especially when he remembered his own father trying to teach him the science things that he loved but Fenton was to young to remember the man's face much less his lessons.)
So Dewey had smiled at him, gently gave him his English textbook and asked him to help check his work.
And Fenton, not wanting to make a fuss or get angry at the boss' kid, did so.
It was slow, because Fenton couldn't read that well, but he found out that he was learning alongside Dewey. Or maybe the boy was teaching him, in a sneaky way that still allowed the older duck to retain some shred of dignity. Soon all three were participating. Helping him in a way no one else had before. Listening to him in a way no one else bothered to. Scrooge treated him like a tool just like Duckworth did. He was just nicer to his tools. That was fine, Fenton could live with that. But to the boys, he was a person.
(Only the boys ever treated him like a person, like his father did.)
Years went by. He was happy. He didn't have much, but he had a job. He had a good working relationship with a boss that wasn't as cruel or mean as his old one. He had a roof over his head and three meals a day. Eventually he had enough days off and money to do things like go the movies or eat out on his own. Or just go to the damn zoo or an aquarium or things he missed out on as a kid because he had been either to busy jumping around to please some British bastard crook or in jail.
Then he met the woman and his life fell apart again.
Gandra Dee had somehow got work in the Bastion at one of the offices. In fact it was on the same floor as the inner bin where Fenton worked, though she never actually reached the inner sanctum. It was enough that she was close. It was hard not to notice her. She was very attractive, and Fenton had never had any female pay attention to him before. Not the kind of attention that Gandra gave. He wanted to impress her. Wanted her to like him.
At first it was easy. She eagerly agreed to spend time with him. Go on dates outside the Bastion with him. Asked him about what Scrooge and the kids were really like. Even asked about the older nephew, Donald.
(He never told that late one night he had gone back to the office to turn in some paper he had worked on late and found Scrooge bandaging his older nephew's leg and muttering about his damn theatrics. Never told her that the news that morning mentioned the Avenger clashing with some rogue AI and the footage showed the Avenger getting beat in the same places that Scrooge had been wrapping Donald's wounds last night. Never told her that he was starting to suspect the reason that Donald hated him was because he was the Avenger and he remembered sending Fenton to prison. He didn't mention that because he was still deeply afraid of the Avenger and if Donald was the Avenger any toe out of line would be his end. He couldn't handle prison again)
She was so nice at first. So kind. But then it started to change. Looking back he realized she was using him from the start. Without the suit on he now realized how her simple requests grew more and more demanding. How she used guilt and poking at his pride and drove him to do more and more for her until he just couldn't afford it anymore.
And then she would tell him things. Rumors about what Scrooge was saying behind his back. Rumors of what the Beagles were saying behind his back. About how Donald was constantly saying that Fenton was an untrustworthy worm that didn't deserve his uncle's kindness and that he was going to turn on him at any moment.
"It's not enough being a simple accountant." Gandra told him one day. "You have to prove yourself invaluable."
"How would I do that?" Fenton had asked.
"Oh," She smirked. "I know a way."
When she reintroduced him to his old pal Launchpad Fenton had been a bit nervous. But Fenton had changed his life around, why not Launchpad? The man said he was now a lab assistant for a brilliant scientist, and they needed a volunteer. Someone to pilot a revolutionary new battlesuit that would help protect both the city and the Bastion. The Avenger was a great protector, they said, but he was just one duck. Lately the cities' defender was teaming up with two other famous heroes and leaving the city to fight aliens or demonic invaders or other world ending threats. The Avenger was now one third of a trio that included a famous swordsman mouse and a hound with an iron techno suit of his own. That left a place for someone else to step in to help protect the Bastion while the Avenger was away.
(And wasn't the idea of beating the Avenger at his own game very very nice?)
So Fenton agreed and Gearloose even let him choose a passcode for the suit. He had noticed an odd pricking sensation in his arms when the suit first attached itself to him, but Gyro said that was normal. The man seemed so amiable that Fenton didn't really suspect anything.
But he did suspect something when he showed Scrooge. At first the older duck seemed happy, then Fenton noticed the odd looks the man would give him out of the corner of his eye. The strange frowns, the scowls the narrowed glares. How every time he approached the boys in the suit they were just as polite and kind to his face but as soon as he turned his back they'd snicker in harmony and make disparaging comments about how he was an uneducated moron who couldn't even spell GED.
Then Gandra told him that Scrooge knew about his past. He wasn't going to let him keep the suit.
(And every time he put on the suit he felt that he could do anything and fight anybody and that it made him feel just as strong and powerful as the day he used the rock. But this time nobody had to get hurt so surely it was better? Surely power was good as long as no one was being hurt?)
That was unacceptable. She also told him that Scrooge was going to eventually get enough evidence to put him back to prison. And every time she told him that his mind would flash back to his teenage years and he knew if he went back he'd probably die there.
And then Gyro would keep telling him that if he wanted to be free of it all he needed was more money.
And Gandra told him that they could run away together an never have to fear Scrooge again.
And that was it.
Fenton sat across from the suit the next morning, sipping the third bottled water and glaring at the visor.
That was it, wasn't it? The moment he put on the suit Gyro's talk and Gandra's talk made more and more sense. He thought that Scrooge was against him, but when had confronted the man in the tunnels below St. Canard he seemed so confused. Baffled as to why Gizmoduck was hunting him, when he had been plotting to send Fenton back to a place where he was sure he'd either suffer for years then die, or just die right then and there. Surely Scrooge must have known that he would fight back?
The moment he put on the suit he wanted to hurt people. Scrooge in particular. Was that the suit's fault, or was it Gandra's gaslighting? Because now that he thought about it he never had those paranoid, mistrustful thoughts about the McDucks before she came into his life. Maybe it was both.
He had to know the answers.
Getting up he walked over to the suit and rummaged around the front until he found the phone. There was a phone in the suit, and it directly dialed the suit's creator. Fenton was not longer sure he could trust Gyro, but he was running out of options.
A few rings later, then "Hello, Fenton."
"Gyro." Fenton concentrated on keeping his voice as emotionless as possible. "I have a question."
A pause, then. "I really need you to come back to the lab, Fenton. With the suit. I didn't make it so you could run around like a manic shooting random buildings and knocking off fast food places."
How did he know that?
"Why is it, when I wear the suit, I can't think of anything other then revenge?" He wasn't sure how to articulate it now that he was actually talking to the inventor. This was a bad idea.
"Oh, just a little...aid." Gyro said. "You know, sometimes people get squeamish, they don't do what needs to be done. There's a little formula I added it. It suppresses certain emotions."
"What kind of emotions?"
"Empathy." Gyro laughed. "Useless emotion, really. It also miiight increase paranoia. Tell me, why do you ask? Are you having some paranoia issues yourself? Delusions maybe? Can't tell when someone is plotting against you are not? Come back to the lab, Fenton, and I can fix it."
Oh that didn't help the paranoia at all. "No."
"...what if I helped you get revenge. I have a lead for you."
"A what?"
"You almost killed those nephews of Scrooge's. They were taken to foster care, you know." A chill went down Fenton's spine at that. He knew better then most what could happen to kids that went there "But Scrooge has a lead on the red one. I found out where he is too. Come back to the lab, Fenton, and I'll tell you where the boy is."
Huey. Fenton hadn't meant to hurt the boys. Scrooge yes, but the boys? They had done nothing. Even in the wildest of his paranoid thoughts he had never wanted to hurt the triplets.
(But you did, you little shit.)
"Tell me where he is, and I'll come back." Fenton lied.
Gyro put the phone down and picked up a different one. After a few moments it was answered.
"Hey, Launchpad. You mentioned that your boss wanted the Gizmosuit, right?"
"Oh, hey Gyro. Yeah. It's kinda weird. He bitches all the time about Gizmoduck but he also said he wants the suit. Hold on, let m get him. He might be able to explain better than I can." Launchpad chuckled, and a few moments later there Gyro could hear a familiar growl coming from the phone.
"You got that suit back, egghead?" Negaduck growled.
"No, but I think I know where he's going. I'm pretty sure he'll be swinging back around soon. If I help you get him under control, will you let me collect the data I need from that suit?"
There was a long pause, then.
"As long as you fix it so that idiot has no choice but to work for me, you can do whatever you want. Just don't bust him up or anything. I want him to kill things for me."
Gyro shrugged. "Kill what, exactly?"
"That's for me to know and you to butt out!" Negaduck hung up the phone and Gyro chuckled.
As long as Gizmoduck was in study range, he didn't care what happened to Fenton.
Launchpad watched his boss seethe angrily. He sighed. "I really don't get it boss. You hate Gizmoduck, but you want him to join the gang?"
"I don't want him to be a part of the gang, moron. I want to use him. He's a weapon, nothing more. He's going to be MY weapon, soon enough."
"Why not just steal the suit from Fenton?"
"Because the moron in the suit knows more about how to operate the damn thing then anyone else. Plus, he might also know its weaknesses, and I don't want him running around loose if he does. I don't care who wears it, and it might as well be the guy who knows how to use it the most. I don't trust anyone in the gang to not use it against me."
Launchpad shrugged. "There are other weapons you can get, boss."
That was true. But Negaduck never forgot that day in Darkwing's St. Canard when he and the doubles of the Four had taken over. How Darkwing had managed to pull together a team of random yahoos and beaten him. Beaten Negaduck and the doubles of the four thorns in his side. He had never thought it possible. As much as he hated the Four he knew they were capable enough. They managed to get the drop on most of the other villains around St. Canard. It wasn't their fault that he was the impeccable Negaduck! The greatest criminal mind in two worlds! No one could stop him!
Except Darkwing and his dork squad.
When he encountered the real Gizmoduck in his universe, a creature as twisted and monstrous as him, he had at first been angry. He was still angry at the ease in which Gizmoduck had become a horror story to the good citizens of the greater bay area. But then he remembered that day in Darkwing's world, and how one of his 'Justice Ducks' had been Gizmoduck's goody double.
Then he met Morgana. A dumber, easily fooled and led version of Morgana, but still a witch. A witch willing to follow him as long as he pretended to love her.
Then he found the dinosaur, and it all clicked into place.
If those knobs had defeated him in Darkwing's world, then their true doubles here in the real universe could defeat the Friendly Four.
Or, even better, take over the real St. Canard.
And keep it this time.
Fenton didn't have money, but he did have weaponry. He also wasn't as well known over the border as he was back home. All he had to do was fly near the town where Gyro had said Huey had been taken, pawn off a few of the Gizmosuits weapons (keeping enough so he could defend himself) and he had enough money to at least eat at a diner while he looked at a newspaper, trying to find an odd job he could do while he figured out how to free the red triplet with little fuss.
It had all been fairly easy, actually.
He sat in the back and enjoyed the first meal he managed to enjoy without people looking at him and screaming and running away. Honestly, it was kinda nice being able to sit and not have to deal with that. Maybe the further he got away from home the better things would get.
As he left the diner and turned to head back to his hotel to contemplate his next move, he noticed someone following him. A kestrel Oh yeah. He almost forgot where he was. He knew he didn't have enough cash to free poor Huey yet. He could strip the Gizmosuit bare and probably wouldn't have enough. Kids were expensive down here. He thought he'd have to either bust the kid out with either stealth or lots of violence. But maybe that was the wrong way to do things.
He smirked and turned into an alleyway as the guy tailing him grinned at his back. He was going to corner Fenton, but that was alright by Fenton. He had his own surprise.
"Heya, pal." Fenton didn't have to pretend to be startled by the sudden appearance of two more men at the end of the alley. He had no idea where they come from, but then again it hardly mattered. "Looking for a job? Why don't we help you along, stranger?"
Fenton turned his head to see the man who had been tailing him blocking his path. He grinned. "Oh, I'm sure you'll be a big help." He couldn't help but chuckle. "Blatherin Blatherskite."
"What the hell?" was all the falcon at the other end of the alley could say as the battered Gizmosuit whirled around Fenton and came together. His hasty modifications to it had left it looking even more ragged and trashed then before. But now when it came around him he could feel something being jabbed into his arm and he wondered why he always ignored that before. Now that he was paying attention to his arm he knew that something was being injected into him, and as soon as it was all thoughts of saving Huey faded into the background to be replaced by rage at the thought of these worms attempting to catch him and enslave him. The thought of turning them all into ash piles floated through his brain and he knew how satisfying it would be. A few months ago he would have given in, not knowing those thoughts were not entirely his but were influenced by whatever concoction that Gyro added to the suit.
But he knew it was coming now, and he knew that he had to control himself. Huey. He was doing this for Huey. He had gotten the boy into this mess. He was going to get him out.
And these heartless monsters before him were going to help him, if they wanted to or not.
He grabbed the kestrel behind him and slammed him into the wall, stunning him. His two falcon buddies attempted to rush Gizmoduck, but halted at the sight of at least four guns of various sizes and shapes pointed at him.
"You boys are going to put on those chains you brought for me on yourselves. Then we are going on a trip."
The three gulped and one of the falcons opened his beak to protest. Gizmoduck fired at shot at his feet.
"It's either that, or I start a dance club right here in this alley. You really think anyone is going to come help you? Would anyone have to come to stop you from doing the same thing to me?"
One of the falcons stuttered. "I have a wife and-"
"How many people you caught also had families? Tough shit. Do it or your wife is going to be mourning you instead of just missing you."
There were no more complaints after that.
The man who owned the farm that Huey had been taken to scratched his head at the sight of a metal suited duck with a string of three other men tied behind him. "So...ya'll wants to make a trade? And you only want one kid?"
"I'm not from around here, but surely three grown men are better then one small duckling?" Fenton said. Very reasonably.
"Well ya, but why you just want a kid..." The hound's eyes narrowed at Fenton. "He your kid?"
"...yeah, let's go with that." Fenton agreed.
The farmer laughed. "Well, at least you did it the right way! You can't imagine how many of you Calisota types come here, crying and beggin about their poor little kids! I mean, if ya'll cared about them that much ya'd keep a better leash on them!"
"...please bring me Huey Duck so I can leave. I have...appointments."
"Sure partner! Just you wait here a spell!" The hound was way to friendly about all of this. It made Fenton want to vomit.
The moment that Huey spotted him the duckling's eyes widened in surprise. He barely noticed the farmer's guards leading the trio of slavers away to receive a taste of their own medicine. Huey approached Fenton slowly, as if half worried the older duck would turn on him. The farmer was to busy focused on his new slaves to give a damn about what he assumed was family drama.
"...is that really you in there, Fenton?" Huey asked, his quacky voice trembling.
"...unfortunately."
"...what are you going to do to me now?"
Fenton sighed. He knew this was going to be hard. "We are going home."
Huey finally smiled at him. "...I'd like that."
It was a long flight via Gizmosuit back to Duckburg, and Fenton had to stop in the Rocky Mountains as soon as night fell. Camping again, though this time he had managed to buy more food and water with the remaining money he had. Granted it was granola bars, but it worked.
Huey watched him as he packed up the suit and placed it as far away as he dared. The boy's eyes studied the horrible thing, and eventually he looked at Gizmoduck. "Why did you attack the mansion? Why did you rob Unca Scrooge?"
Fenton sighed again. "It's complicated."
Huey just watched him. Waiting.
"There is something...wrong in that suit, Huey. It made me think you and your brothers and Scrooge were going to hurt me, to backstab me. That and the things Gandra kept telling me."
Huey frowned. "She was awful. How could you not see that?"
"...I think we both know how stupid I am."
"You aren't stupid."
"I feel pretty stupid."
"If what you told me is true, you're not. You were tricked. It's not your fault."
And Fenton remembered the night he attacked the mansion, even though he had been avoiding thinking of it. How he had fought off both Beagle boys and Dijon and even Ma Beagle. He had no idea where the Avenger had gone to. Maybe Gyro somehow knew that the Avenger would be unavailable that night. How he even fought Scrooge until he realized that all the fighting had started fires. How the boys had retreated to the treehouse they had in the back, which was now on fire.
Scrooge had been distracted fighting off Launchpad at that point in the fight, and Fenton had been the only one to hear the cries coming from the treehouse. He had wheeled over and could see inside. Louie was trapped under some fallen wood, Dewey was on the floor bleeding from the head and Huey was the only one still awake and trying to save his brothers from the burning treehouse.
And Fenton for a brief moment wanted to leave them.
But somehow sense managed to break through the muddled soup of lies and trickery that Gandra and Gyro had filled his head with for the past five months and he knew that he couldn't leave the boys there. He had ripped through the treehouse, lifted the wood off Louie as Huey grabbed his brothers and ran as more of the treehouse fell on Fenton. The suit protected him, and a few seconds later he burst out of the burning wood and landed next to the triplets, of who only Huey was awake to look up at him, scared and slightly burned but alive.
Perhaps he might have redeemed himself right then and there.
But then there was a blast of magical fire and Fenton thought the Avenger must be back. He flew away, just in time to catch a glimpse of a strange woman running to the boys, hands still alight with magic. He figured they would be fine.
He was wrong.
"...it is my fault. But I'm going to make it right."
Huey looked at him and shook his head. "I tried to tell cps that you saved us. I tried to tell them to let me talk to Unca Scrooge. But they said they had a witness that testified that he was negligent."
"What witness?" Fenton asked.
"...your girlfriend." Huey tilted his head. "Fenton...did you ever get any of Unca Scrooge's money?"
"No, I never did."
His thoughts were even more troubled as the hour grew later.
Fenton stashed the Gizmosuit just outside the city limits of Duckburg. He wasn't going to wear it anywhere where the Avenger might be lurking. Its mind altering effects would only make what he planned to do worse, and he needed a clear head to face Scrooge.
Getting Huey back to the mansion was child's play. Fenton still remembered his way around the streets. It was like meeting an old friend, in fact. An old friend that had grown sour and mean and hated you, but you could still sense the moods of the place.
"Are you ready to go home, Huey." Fenton looked down at the boy as they stood before the mansion's gates.
"Are you ready? Unca Scrooge is probably still mad at you."
Fenton took a deep breath. "I'm responsible for what happened. I have to make it right."
"If you are sure, then let's go."
Huey pressed a few buttons on the intercom outside the gates. After a moment the voice of Ma Beagle came through.
"McDuck residence. No solicitors, salesmen or tax men."
"Ma! It's me!" Huey said, excitement leaking into his voice.
"Huey! Dear, are you alright! What happened, how did you get back!"
"It's a long story...I have Fenton with me. He brought me back. Please tell Unca Scrooge not to shoot him or yell or anything! Please just give him a chance to explain."
There was a long, pregnant pause, then Scrooge's voice came from the intercom. "I won't do anything. I have my own questions for him. Leave that sinister suit, boy, I don't want it in me house."
"I didn't bring it at all." Fenton replied.
"...good."
The gates swung open, and Fenton let out a breath. He nearly jumped out of his feathers as Huey gently took his hand and smiled up at him.
"You'll be okay." Huey said gently.
How in the world were these boys so mature?
The walk up the driveway to the mansion felt like a death march to Fenton. He was about to face his possible doom in the form of a small old Scottish duck. But he had to do this. This was his fault.
When Dijon opened the door, openly glaring at Fenton, he knew that he wasn't the only one that shared the opinion that everything was Fenton Crackshell's fault.
The butler led the two to the family room, a place where Scrooge had set up several couches, a small table, and a tv. Scrooge was standing in the middle of the room, arms folding and glaring at Fenton. Ma Beagle stood next to him, the only one not glaring at Fenton as she was focused on Huey.
Scrooge's glare was cut off as the red triplet hurtled himself at his great uncle with a joyful sob and buried himself into the old man's middle. For a moment they all forgot the convict in the room as Ma Beagle joined the hug with Scrooge and they all simply reveled in the fact that one of their darling boys was home.
It was heartwarming, aside from the fact that Dijon was still glaring at his back.
A few seconds later Huey pulled away from Scrooge and started babbling, telling him how Fenton had actually saved him and his brothers from the burning treehouse and that he had gone all the way to the farm to save him and that he even managed to do it without setting the entire farm ablaze and couldn't Unca Scrooge show mercy?
Scrooge's eyes landed on Fenton and hardened to icy rocks. He gently pushed his nephew at Ma and said. "Ma, please go take Huey to the kitchen. Get him some lunch. I have to deal with this."
"Unca Scrooge-" Scrooge ruffled Huey's feathers before he could continue.
"I'll be fair, I promise."
Fenton was mesmerized by Scrooge's glare. He was barely aware of Ma taking his only ally away to be fed. That was probably for the best.
After a few moments Scrooge pointed to the couch opposite where he stood. "Sit."
Fenton, like a beaten dog, did as he was told. Eventually, Scrooge sat down on his couch as well, the only thing between the two a small table. Fenton finally noticed that Scrooge's blunderbuss was sitting on the couch next to the old duck.
Well shit.
Finally, Scrooge spoke again. "Explain."
So Fenton did.
At some point the woman from the fire came into the room as well, to eye Fenton down in the same way Dijon currently was. Scrooge's expression never changed, but after a few moments of telling them all what Gyro had done, and what Gandra had done and how every time he used the suit things started to become confused the woman (Magica), began to look more sympathetic to his plight. Dijon, on the other hand, just seemed more scornful.
When Fenton finally ran out of things to say, Scrooge seemed to ponder him for a long while. Then he spoke.
"Ever heard of S.H.U.S.H.?"
"...you mean be quiet?" Fenton blinked.
"No, lad. It's a spy ring. Been fighting them for years. Did you know Gandra Dee works for them?"
"I...no." Fenton shook his head.
"Well, she does. I learned that just recently meself. Got it on...fairly reasonable good authority that she was using you to get to me money. And using your little rampage as a distraction for...other operations. Did she ever mention that to you?"
"No. I just...she just told me you were the one plotting against me."
"He's telling the truth, Scroogie." Magica finally spoke. Fenton startled and looked at her. Her eyes were glowing.
"...what?"
"Magic lad, just ignore her. She's making sure you aren't lying to me." Scrooge's eyes were still hard as stones. "I can forgive you for being used by that woman. Better men than you have been hoodwinked by a pretty face. I can forgive you for what happened to the boys, since Huey told me you saved them. I thought you had attacked them, but you didn't. I can forgive you attacking me. I would never forgive you for attacking them. I can forgive you for being used by Gyro, now knowing you were tricked into working with him, and I can guess he was using you as a test subject for that suit. I'll bet all the money that was stolen from me that the one who really managed to take all me missing money was Dee herself. Maybe Gyro as well."
Fenton nodded. "I don't have it."
"So, we are left with one question." Scrooge folded his hands and placed his beak on them. "What do we do with you now, lad."
Fenton gulped. "I have two ideas."
"I'm listening."
"I find Dewey and Louie. I bring them back. You pay me enough for me to leave the country. Maybe even get me the plane ticket. I get out of your lives forever and we never have to see each other ever again."
"...and the second idea."
"...if you still blame me for what happened, or if you still want revenge on me for what I did...I'm not going back to prison, Mr. McDuck. I'd rather die before that happens." He looked down at the gun next to Scrooge. "You might as well use that on me right now, if you won't go with the first idea. Prison is a slow death in hell anyway. I'd rather get it over with. Hell, it would be more like a mercy killing."
Of all the things that Fenton could have said, he hadn't expected that half joke to have an effect on Scrooge. The man's eyes widened in horror and unexpected pain. Fenton wasn't prepared for the sharp intake of breath from Dijon and the brief look of sorrow on the man's stony face. He looked around room, puzzled at the result of his words.
After a moment, Scrooge spoke.
"...there's no need for that, lad. There's also no need to find me boys. I can do it meself. The fact that you came and brought Huey is enough. I can have you on that plane by tonight."
Fenton considered that.
"No...no. It's still my fault. I have to help."
"...you're awfully stubborn." Scrooge chuckled.
"I suppose I am."
Scrooge stood, no longer seeming as hard and cold as he had before, but instead he still seemed sorrowful. Fenton had no clue why, but he stood as well. Scrooge held out a hand, and the two shook.
"We have a deal then." Scrooge said, and for the first time in a long while, Fenton felt so much better.
Fenton knew that he was going to have to camp out again tonight, as he left Duckburg to retrieve the suit. He might be working for McDuck again, technically, but the old man wasn't really ready to let him back into his home. Fenton wasn't ready to stay there either. It was much better to grab the suit and start looking for the other two triplets. Surely finding the other two wouldn't be hard.
He didn't expect Launchpad to be there, standing in front of the bag where Fenton had stuffed the suit and grinning at him.
Fenton hesitated before the huge duck. "...hey. How you been?"
"Oh, you know. Been doing some jobs for the new boss. Like recruitment. We need a few more tough, reliable guys. Guys with...firepower, if you get my drift ol buddy?"
"Good luck with that." Fenton looked down at the suit, then back at Launchpad. "I'm not interested, but good luck."
"Negaduck is taking over St. Canard. Come on, pal. You can be living the high life with us. You'll have everything you ever wanted and then some. I know you, Fenton. You and I have always been crooked. This time you can work for a real winner, instead of trying to toe McDuck's line."
"Not. Interested." Fenton growled. "Blatherin Blatherskite."
The Gizmosuit did nothing.
"Aww, what's the matter, shrimp? No more fuel in your tanks?"
Fenton whirled to see Negaduck behind him, holding a remote and grinning.
"Ya see, knob, I got a problem. Several problems. Your pal Bushroot for one. The rest of his little cohort. Bulba. Steelbeak. Hooter. I need a team of the best muscle I can get to take them down and secure my empire. I need you and that suit, knob. And I'm going to have you."
Fenton yelped as Launchpad suddenly rushed forwards and pinned his arms to his sides. He glared up at the man who had once thought of a friend and suddenly realized that Launchpad had encouraged him to listen to Gandra and Gyro. It occurred to Fenton that if they had used him, so had Launchpad. Used him and betrayed him, just like he was doing now.
"Fine. Take the suit. Choke on it." Fenton growled, but Negaduck shook his head.
"No. You know how to operate this thing..." Negaduck snorted at the suit. "Going to need Gearloose to fix it up, but you know it best."
"It's not that hard-"
Negaduck pulled out a knife and held it close to Fenton's throat.
"You are going to come with me. You are going to use that suit when and how I tell you. You are going to help me rule my city. You are going to keep helping me, and my gang, until I decide you are done, or you die. One of the two, knob. You and that damn suit belong to me now."
"I don't want-" Fenton yelped as Negaduck struck him across the face with the knife's hilt.
"I don't care what you want! I own you now, tin can!" Negaduck grinned up at Launchpad. "Let's go. Feel free to rough him up if he gets wiggly."
Fenton didn't struggle this time as he and the suit were dragged off after Negaduck.
None of them noticed the raven flying away back to McDuck mansion.
Negaduck and Launchpad threw Fenton in a room in their lair, and Fenton was sure his old 'friend' bounced his back on the floor on purpose. He wondered how an underground base under a warehouse managed to get a room that looked for all the world like a castle dungeon, but somehow Negaduck had either found or built that room. To Fenton's general horror it came complete with a long chain and shackle that Launchpad attached to Fenton's left leg before he left, laughing with Negaduck.
Prison again. Used again. Only this time Negaduck was very honest about what he wanted from Fenton. He wanted to use Fenton as an attack dog, and if Fenton was being honest that was a good use. He did know how to hurt and kill using the suit. He was good at it. He would be good at using the suit to bring about Negaduck's desired empire.
Maybe that was all he had ever been good for in the first place.
He was very glad no one else was down here with him.
No one could hear him cry.
Negaduck was pleased. The last piece of the puzzle was in place. Firmly under his control. With the remote he had Gearloose make for him that accountant would be under his command. He could suit the idiot up and point him at whatever he wanted dead and turn him loose. Sure, the team had some...quirks. Morgana wasn't half as capable as her counterpart, neither was the fish girl. But Stegmutt was a good fighter and was loyal enough. And he knew that Gizmodork was capable. It was good enough.
Soon, with the aid of the Injustice Ducks, the city would be his.
And Darkwing Duck's world after that.
A/N: So now Negaduck has all the Nega counterparts to the Justice Ducks, and he plans on using them.
What happens next?
Well, actually next time we get a small breather chapter, maybe two, before the end of ''season one'
A season what, eight years in the making or so?
Eh, you win some you lose some.
And now we find out what Donald's role in this world is. Yep, I've taken the Duck Avenger and slammed that idea with Black Mage Donald from Kingdom Hearts. He dresses like the comic hero but he uses magic like mage Donald. He doesn't use either gadgets or his own inherent magic but magical artifacts (one of which converts his bad luck towards his enemies instead of at himself). He can't use it for everyday bad luck though, as the artifact would overload if he did. Still makes him a good superhero. He and Mickey and Goofy are basically the Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman of the Negaverse. While people like the Four are dealing with bank robbers and so on, the three of them deal with galactic level threats.