„Say my little bulby... do you come here often? OH! Of course you do! Who in their right mind wouldn't want to come here... and stay a little while ehehehe." With the lightbulb in his ungloved hand, Megavolt grinned from ear to ear and raised it towards the ceiling like a prized diamond.
„Don't you worry! No one is going to fry in your socket ever again! You're save now! With me and your 287 brothers and sisters!" Cackling with glee, he pulled the bulb close to his chest, before he got up and put it into a box filled with 20 other lightbulbs. All of them sitting tightly and close to each other, so they could snuggle up for the night.
Stretching his back and moaning extensively, Megavolt sat back down on his couch. He could have returned to his lighthouse now but decided, since he had some plans for a new fun project later, that it was pointless to travel back and forth at this hour. Since this hideout was missing a bed, he was about to crash and flop to the side on the couch, so he could get some well deserved sleep, as his gaze darted to the window, where a pair of eyes was staring right at him.
He let out a short, totally manly scream before he sunk back into the cushions. It took him a moment to realize, who was disturbing him this late at night. Not even a second later, the window was opened and a big orange beak entered, followed by the soft jingle of bells, which hit the windowsill as the duck entered.
„SPARKY! I finally found you! Why are you here? Why aren't you at home?!" Were the first words he was greated with by the sudden intruder.
„What are you blabbering about? I AM home...sort off. Home is where your toaster is! And don't call me that!" the rat replied instantly, taking a quick look around to check, that the limegreen toaster was indeed sitting on the kitchen table far behind him.
„I've been looking for you at your lighthouse but I couldn't find you! I had to travel through the WHOLE city to get here!" Quackerjack didn't even wait for Megavolt to get up from his spot, closed the window behind him and stomped in front of the couch.
„Oh. Sorry...Hey wait! How is that even my fault?! It's not like we had something planned for tonight!" Right after he got that out of his system, the electrical maniac went silent. He was sure they didn't have anything planned for tonight but there was always a bit of a doubt gnawing in the back of his sometimes overstimulated skull.
„Well, no but since WHEN do I need an appointment to meet up with my FAVORITE playmate!?"
„I didn't say anything about that but a call would be nice for once." Megs said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, only to losen up again, as his friend stomped his foot on the ground.
„You don't even HAVE a phone!"
The quick and rather angry sounding reply of the jester caught him off guard. Raising his finger to come back from that remark, the rodent pondered for a second but realised, that he didn't even have a number at the moment but he did have a computer. The likelihood that Quackerjack would send him an email or a fax was almost zero, so he just lowered his hand again and declared defeat by his lack of words.
Being satisfied, that he had won the argument, the duck walked further into the room. Finally Megavolt stood up and followed the jester through the room, unsure of what he actually wanted and why he had to seek him out at this time of day. Quackerjack walked over to one of the cupboards in the kitchen, opened it, opened another and another obviously didn't find what he was looking for and left them all open, as he walked towards the small bathroom at the back of the room. While the hideout owner was busy closing everything that was left open, before he followed his into the bathroom.
„You know, asking what you're looking for might speed this up." he said, as he stared holes into the back of the colorful dressed duck.
„Already did!" he replied holding a round orange bottle in his left hand. „Who keeps their painkillers in the bathroom anyway?!"
„Normal people?" the rats remark usually earned him some kind of response but instead, the other only froze for a moment, before he kept trying to open up the bottle, which seemed to put up a real fight.
Watching for a bit, Megavolt started to wonder, what the other criminal was getting so worked up over. As the movements got more frantic and the ducks body almost seemed to tremble from the struggle to open a simple, childproof pill bottle, the rodent moved closer.
„You have to press down on the..." he started to explain, as he was cut off by a furious looking toymaker.
„Stop trying to tell me what to do! I am capable of opening this stupid thing myself!"
The sudden, loud, frustrated voice of his friend startled him. Something was clearly wrong with the usually happy-go-lucky toymaker. It was obvious, even Megavolt could tell, that Quackerjack tried to hide the reason for his behaviour and he did a poor job at that.
A slightly less raging movements later, the bottle finally opened. A few pills spilled into the sink and vanished with a tinkling sound into the darkness of the drain. Shugging a few, maybe too many into his beak and crunching down on the bitter tasting medicine, Quackerjack placed the bottle down on the sink, before he pushed his away past the still staring rodent, who couldn't help it but just followed his friend, who was clearly in some sort of pain. Back in the mainroom, the duck seemed to have changed completely again, as he turned around to face his buddy and presented a almost convincing grin.
„You know, you should be happy I came over! We could have a fun sleepover! We never do that anymore lately." The sudden change in Quackerjacks tone didn't help his already overgrowing suspicion in the slightest but he kept quiet for a moment, as his friend tried to cover up his own misbehaviour. „Why don't we order pizza?! Oh! Oh! Or we could watch some horrormovies and hide behind your couch and cover each others eyes and..." It seemed like the blabbermouths beak wasn't going to stop any time soon. While the jester was throwing all his ideas for whatever he had planned for this night at Megavolt, the same couldn't help to just stand there and observe the duck.
Something was off. Very off. More off than usual.
Watching and only half listening to the blabber of the ever mood changing jester, it didn't take much longer till he finally noticed, what was missing. He didn't jump, he didn't roll and his hands weren't all over him at any given time. Quackerjack had always been the type that did not just talk with his beak but always with his full body and most notable with his hands. Those seemed rather busy with each other, as the left hand was somewhat holding his right arm and wouldn't let go of it for most of the time.
Even more suspicious than that, was the plain fact, that he didn't get a partly forced, partly anticipated friendly hug from the always happy toy maker and the whole happy part, left something to be desired. Not even Mr. Bananabrain had spoken up in this whole time, which made it even more alarming. Normally the little guy was always eager to greet him.
Moving closer towards his friend, Megavolt kept staring at the ducks arms, looking for a sign, if he was just hiding something or if there might have been an accident with one of his inventions. The fabric of his right arm turned out to be slightly frayed but luckily, he couldn't spot any signs of blood. His concerned look didn't remain unnoticed for long and resulted in a rather angry sounding reassuring: „I'm FINE! Stop looking at me like that!"
Not completely sure, if the duck was just messing with him or honestly had injured himself, the curious villain moved closer and quickly placed his hand on the others wrist, not grabbing it directly, just brushing over the slightly ruffled feathers. The touch was followed by a loud, sharp hiss, combined with an angry moan, as Quackerjack turned away and tried to hide his poor, demolished hand from the rat, who gave him a well knowing look.
„You're going to tell me what happened now or am I supposed to play along with this farce?" the rodent asked crossing his arms and leaned against a none existent doorframe, which made him stumble for a second before he catched his balance again and continued to glare at the jester.
„It's no big deal. Really. I just need some ice and it'll be fine tomorrow." The jester insisted, pulling the sleeves of his costume up a bit, to lessen the pressure on his wrist. Still not sure what to make out of all this, Megavolt scratched his head and started to walk towards his kitchen. Willing to help his friend, even tho it was quite late and he was, as always, not in the mood for anything difficult.
While the rat was busy to get him what he asked for, Quackerjack was busy himself. With one arm partially disabled, it took him a few pulls and grunts, till he managed to free his head from his jester cap, making the bells at their ends jingle with each pull. Taking one end between his teeth and the other into his left, he tied the two ends into a knot and placed it over his neck. Testing if it was stable enough, he gave the improvised sling a few tugs with his left hand, before he rested his damaged arm on it.
„I only have chocolate tho and I know you prefer strawberry so... uh" he murmured, while he opened the freezer and was about to grab the cold, delightful treat as his ears perked up.
„Geez not to eat it you dummy! For my wrist!" Quackerjack growled and sat down on the couch, only to get up again a second later and followed the rat into the kitchen. Slowly getting even more crazy from the pain, which was spreading throughout his whole arm by now, he couldn't just stay put for more than a second.
„Now that you mention it. Your fingers look kinda bloated." The electrical rodent took a closer look at the bag in his hand, wrinkled his nose and hold up a package of ice cubes, which were conveniently still sitting in the back of the freezer. Since everyone had an emergency bag of ice at home, incase their friend came knocking at the door in the middle of the night with a broken wrist.
„Thanks Megs. You got any more uplifting words for me or will you get me something to cool this?! Oh..." Taking notice of the bag, he quickly grabbed it and a towel from the counter, to wrap the cold wet bag in it and pressed the thing against his wrist, which resulted in another painfull hiss.
The sound caught the other criminals attention and the look in front of him caught him by surprise. It was a pretty rare sight for him, to see the jester without his protective headgear, so it took him a moment, before he finally found his voice back: „Make yourself at home." he sneered at the jester, not nearly feeling as annoyed as he sounded to be but knowing full well, that his friend was in no condition to go anywhere anytime soon. It was obvious, that he would spend the night here.
Still rather tired, Megs placed his butt back onto the couch and briefly closed his eyes. The second he opened them up again, he realized a weight and warmth on top of him, tho he couldn't remember how it got there. He must have dozed off just for a minute. His feather covered friend clearly took his invitation to make himself at home literally.
The way Quackerjack had snuggled up against him made it quite clear, that he wouldn't leave his spot anytime soon. Atleast not for the next few hours. With a deep sigh, Megs just gave into his fate. He raised his hand, placed it on the ducks head and started to stroke through the short feathers, which earned him a happy tailfeather-wiggle against his leg, followed by a quite pleased sounding giggle. Another victory for the toy crazed duck.
„You won't go home anytime soon, will you?" he asked, holding back a yawn. The question was pretty much pointless since he was full aware of the answer, which followed promptly.
„Nope."
„Thought so."
For a while none of them said anything. The silence was only disturbed by the distant city noises and the slight rustling of feathers being stroked. It only took a few more minutes, till Quackerjack made the mistake to shift around a bit and bumped his arm against the rodent he was sitting on. A few painfilled curses followed, before he relaxed again and decided to snuggle up against his new found pillow even more, as if his life currently depended on it.
Megs sighed deeply. He would be lying if he enjoyed to see the one person he actually gave a crap about in so much pain but he couldn't do anything at this given time. „I'll take you to a hospital first thing in the morning. No ifs and buts." His words broke the weird moment between them and his tone clearly didn't allow any backtalk. Obviously that didn't stop the damaged duck from trying.
„What!? Without breakfast!? Megs you're cruelty hurts me more than my wrist!" he whined and presented the best pout he could muster at the moment. It still worked nonetheless.
„Fine! But after breakfast, I'll drive you over and they can fix you up. If they don't, I'll make them fix you!" Megavolt said, raising his arm to the ceiling, as if the soon to be doctors responsible for Quackerjacks well-being could hear him.
„My hero!" was the lighthearted response from his playmate, followed by a very sudden smooch on the rodents cheek and for this brief moment, he could live with the term hero for now. A victorious grin and an accepting nod sealed the plan. What was a victory for the duck was a simple inconvenience for the always busy criminal but everything could wait, when it came down to Quackerjack. He didn't give him that much of a choice anyway. Even if he tried, he couldn't resist that goofy smile the colorful dressed duck gave him every single time they went on a little adventure, which mostly ended in either prison or disaster and sometimes both but it was always a funtime in the end.
His thoughts drifted off for a bit. Megs was aware, that the hospital would probably call the police or worse, if they showed up in their usual attire but to their luck, his hideout was stuffed with all kinds of things, clothing was one of them. This way they could play dressup in the morning, before getting the duck fixed. That same duck shifted his head again, to incite the rodent to pet him even more, clearly enjoying the attention his unfortunate condition resulted in.
„Do we really have to go to the hospital? I hate hospitals. They are no fun." he whined, snuggling closer.
„I'm not a doctor Quacky. I can't fix this and I don't want to make it worse!" Megs said before he continued to stroke through the ducks soft headfeathers.
„Awww you're so cute when you're worried about me! Maybe I should..." The playfull talk was shut off rather quickly, as Megavolts hand stopped moving. He was only joking anyway but obviously, the joke went over the highly charged rodents head.
„Don't even think about it. I'll tie you to the bed! ...not here but I'll swear I'll tie you to one!"
Knowing, that it was time to shut up, unless he wanted some friendly reminder, what the rat was capable off, Jack just smiled sheepishly and made himself comfortable again. Even tho that bed bit got him some ideas for another day, when he wasn't reduced to a featherball of pain. Anticipating another set of gentle pets, the capless jester once again placed his head against the rodents chest and it didn't take long, until his friend proceeded to stroke through his head plumage.
Shifting his feet a little, Quackerjack tried his best to ignore everything that wasn't the hand on his head, which was doing a really great job at keeping his mind busy. Still, all that effort couldn't numb the excruciating pain he was in and with yet another frustrated grunt, the feathered villain took the wet, molten ice bag and threw it a few feet away from them, resulting in a crunchy wet sound as it hit the ground. That action didn't help and the sudden movement only made everything worse. Moving was bad but lying motionless was worse. Not that he didn't try to get comfortable but with every heartbeat, he could feel his hand and arm throb and pulse in pain.
„Hey Sparky?" The ducks voice seemed raspy, as if he had been screaming for an hour but was most likely the result from gritting his teeth, as he tried to hold back a yelp.
„Urgh...Yeah?" was the disgruntled reply, still hating the nickname but for now, he led it slide. Ranting about how he hated that name wouldn't help in this situation, so he swallowed it for now.
„Could you knock me out please? The painkillers don't seem to work and im honestly SO close to losing my mind, if i can't sleep anytime soon." Quackerjack held up his left hand, fingers touching, to demonstrate, that he wasn't joking but also was joking in a different way, earning him a knowing but also sympathetic smile from his new found resting spot.
„Sure Quacky but I'm somewhat sure, it's already too late for that. One thing tho...you should move, unless you want to kiss the floor when you're out cold. You could get worse from that."
Without further needed convincing, the duck stood up from his friend, only to take over the whole couch, bitting his lips as the shift in gravity made his bones ache before resting his head on the others lap, without giving Megs a chance to move or argue.
„Hmmhmm comfy~" Quackerjack almost purred, ignoring the grumpy face Megavolt made. He realized, that he wouldn't get a chance to get comfortable himself tonight.
Putting on a rather weak smile, the jester tried his best to cover over the fact, how much his whole arm actually hurt. At the same time tho, he wanted to shout at his friend, that he was feeling horrible but for once, he was way too exhausted to do either and since he felt save around the crazy rat, it didn't bother him too much to show his current vulnerability. They both knew, neither of them would take advantage of this kind of situation. While his fuzzy minded friend kept caressing him, he already closed his eyes and waited for the sweet nothingness, Megavolt would send him to.
As the voltage was sent straight through his brain, the avian body twitched for a brief moment, before everything relaxed and the still tired rodent was left alone with his thoughts. Gladly, he felt way too exhausted himself and the still warm weight partialy lying on top of him, helped to calm him down quickly and he joined the crazy but broken toymaker into his dreamstate.
They woke up the next morning, had to skip breakfast and dressup-party, since the skin of the ducks hand had turned into a really concerning redish purple. With a dry and almost burned toast in his beak, Quackerjack found himself in Megavolts car, as they rushed to the hospital, where no one actually bothered who they were. Ignorance is bliss in St. Canard.
Hours later and with a cast on the ducks arm, they finally returned to the rats hideout, where he made the duck some pancakes with icecream on top. They married 2 weeks later.
The End.
I suck at endings.