Darkwing's head slumped to the side and Donald quacked in panic. "Darkwing?" he said, gently shaking the unconscious hero's head. There was no response.
"Don't worry, partner. He's only fainted." One assured Donald.
He exhaled a sigh of relief and set Darkwing's head safely on the pillow, tucking him back under the blankets. Once Darkwing was settled, Donald backed away from the bed, keeping an eye on the unconscious hero.
"It's probably for the best," One remarked. "He still needs to sleep off some of the Evronian tranquilizer."
Donald nodded and walked out of the room. He looked back at Darkwing once more before One closed the door behind him. Donald slumped into the armchair near One's main terminal.
A mug of tea popped up next to him, and Donald snatched it up. "I wanna thank you again for getting Darkwing on the mend, and for making quick work of that tractor beam," said Donald in between sips. "I don't know how we would've escaped otherwise."
"My pleasure, old cape. If I may be frank, it barely challenged even one of my cores."
Donald smirked. "I wouldn't be surprised seeing as one of those cores could run the electric plant, for goodness' sake."
"Well, it managed to get you and Darkwing home safely on the Thunderquack at least."
"Yeah, I know," Donald sighed.
Duck Avenger ran as fast as he could to the open bay door. Darkwing was draped across his shoulders and barely conscious. Duck Avenger didn't look back once as he entered the Thunderquack and shut them both inside.
He carefully lowered Darkwing into a seat in the back, his limp body sliding off Duck Avenger. The tranquilizer had gone into full effect, so Darkwing would not be waking up for a little while.
Duck Avenger buckled him in, then jumped into the pilot's seat. He glanced about at the unfamiliar controls and gulped, nervous sweat starting to trickle from his brow. Why, oh, why had leaving Launchpad behind been a good idea? he lamented.
Because you wouldn't have been able to carry them both, his mind spit back.
Duck Avenger rolled his eyes and began pressing random buttons in a futile attempt to get the Thunderquack flying.
"Need a hand, hero?" One piped in over the X-Transformer.
"I can fly a plane, One," Duck Avenger responded.
"I know you can, DA, but are you sure you can fly this plane?"
No button or lever worked thus far, and Duck Avenger was getting frustrated. His attention was diverted by the clanging of metal outside. One look out of the side window told him everything. The Evronians passed out in the elevator had woken up, and were firing on the Thunderquack.
"You know what, One? Fine! Save the day!" Duck Avenger groused.
"You're welcome," winked One as Duck Avenger plugged the X-Transformer into a port on the steering column. Within seconds, the engine came alive. Duck Avenger strapped himself in as the engine awoke with power. It blasted off toward Earth, far away from the Evronians.
"I totally could've figured it out, though."
"I'm sure you could've," One replied. "By which time the Evronian soldiers would've broken through the door."
Donald rolled his eyes at One's patronizing tone.
"Although, for being an amateur project, the Thunderquack is quite the capable aircraft," One noted.
"I'm sure Darkwing would be pleased to hear that." Donald hopped out of the chair and stretched, yawning loudly. "Keep monitoring him and let me know of any changes. I'm going to bed."
"Understood. Good night, hero." One said as Donald walked toward his bedroom, then turned back to the computer.
"And One?" Donald said.
"Yes?"
"No restraints this time."
"Understood," the machine sighed. Eyes heavy with sleepiness, Donald shuffled inside.
As Donald settled into bed, his mind swam with the day's ordeal. Despite recklessly putting himself at risk, he didn't fault Drake for going after the Evronians. Underneath the mask, he was just a dad trying to protect his daughter. Donald would gladly do the same for his nephews without another thought.
Donald hated seeing his friend like this, and his heart broke at the thought of Gosalyn alone, at the mercy of the Evronians.
Watch your back, you scummy Evronians. You've messed with the wrong dads.
Though Darkwing was sleeping off the remnants of his tranquilizing, his mind was anything but inactive. His ultimate failure as a hero and a father was slung to the forefront of his consciousness.
He felt it all again. The overwhelming pain as he gripped Gosalyn's cage. The helplessness as he laid there on the cold, foreign ground, practically paralyzed. The anguish in his heart as his shining star was taken from him.
He screamed at himself to get up and be the hero that he was, but his body was useless to his desires. However, one voice screamed louder than all the others.
"DADDY!"
Gosalyn's wail stabbed him in his heart with every time it played out. She was in the hands of those fiendish aliens, and he couldn't save her. He wanted to call out to her and tell her everything would be okay, but no sound left his beak. The memory flashed again, then again, then again. It was too much, and he begged for it to stop. He begged for the shame to end.
He begged for it to give him back his daughter.
"GOSALYN!" screamed Darkwing, shooting upright. He was hyperventilating and soaked in cold sweat, mind reeling with anxiety. As he beheld his dark room in Ducklair Tower, his breathing began to slow. He focused on each breath, counting them to make sure he was still alive before he collapsed onto the bed once more and resigned to let his grief consume him whole.
Tears flowed from his eyes, soaking into the bandages on his head as they trickled down his face and onto the pillow underneath.
"I'm so sorry, Gosalyn," he choked out as he buried his face in his arms, crying softly in pain, shame, and anguish.
Donald was torn abruptly from his slumber by a blaring klaxon resounding from every corner of his room. He jumped out of bed and gasped, adrenaline ousting his drowsiness.
Darkwing! He bolted out of his quarters and into the main room, praying his friend was okay.
"One, what's going on?!" Donald shouted. "Turn on the lights!" He recognized the droning melody shooting through the intercom as One's general purpose alarm. It could be alerting him of any number of crises. The Beagle Boys could be robbing Scrooge's money bin again. The Evronians could be invading the city like they had many times before.
The dark floor suddenly became bright as the daytime, and Donald halted when he saw who was standing there.
Darkwing was out of bed, exasperation evident on his face. He was slouched, his arms at his sides loosely, and his eyes were red on the edges, held up by dark bags underneath.
There were no Evronians, no Time Bandits, not even his Uncle Scrooge. Just Darkwing.
Donald slapped his forehead. Be a superhero, they said. It'll be fun, they said.
The alarm cut out, and One materialized in his globe.
Donald stomped over to him. "This is NOT what I meant when I said, 'let me know of any changes!'"
One gulped. "I-I'm sorry, Donald. I'm not entirely sure what happened."
"Don't gimme that baloney, Mr. I Am the Tower! You know darn well what happened and you're gonna tell me right now!"
"Well, I didn't personally authorize this! Allow me a moment to search through my subroutines. Perhaps one of them altered the alarm parameters..." One trailed off as he searched through his logs.
One's core presided over an array of subroutines, smaller virtual computers running within him that managed the day-to-day aspects of the tower, leaving One the freedom for more complex instructions.
"Well?" demanded Donald, growing impatient.
"Um, well...it would seem that, uhhh, a subroutine of mine registered the disconnect of Darkwing's monitoring cables, and, um...sounded the general alarm…?"
One was clearly embarrassed and sorry for his mistake, but it didn't keep Donald from letting out vocalized frustration and throwing his hands in the air. "I can't believe you woke me from an amazing dream for this, you crazy computer!"
"Well, excuse me for following my programming!" One defended. "Darkwing is our patient and could have made his condition worse by just casting aside my instruments like that!"
"Look at him, One! He ain't an invalid just cause those dumb Evronians roughed him up a bit!"
"But weren't you the one who said 'Darkwing's gonna get creamed?' Maybe you should take up deejaying. It would be fruitful the way you change your tune."
"Oh, them's fighting words, pocket calculator!"
"Take that back!"
"Make me!"
"HEY!" Darkwing screamed. Both One and Donald stopped their quarreling and looked over at Darkwing. He arms were crossed, and he was tapping his foot. "If you two don't stop this bothersome bickering, I am going to jump out of a window! I need the fresh air anyway! That's all!"
One and Donald looked back at each other. They had forgotten all about Darkwing and were making quite a scene in front of him. Donald blushed at his behavior. One did so as well, albeit in his own electronic imitation.
"Forget this, I'll just go back to bed," Darkwing sighed, trudging back in the direction of his room. Donald chased after him.
"Wait, Darkwing!" He put a hand on Darkwing's shoulder. "I could use some air too. Whaddaya say I take you to the roof? Great view of Duckburg."
Darkwing raised an eyebrow at Donald but shook his head. "Alright, Donny. Lead the way. It's not like either of us is getting any more sleep."
Donald patted Darkwing on the back and lead his friend slowly to the elevator. He turned back to One. "Put on a pot of coffee, will ya, buddy?"
One turned his beak up. "Apologize to me first, Donald." It seemed he wasn't about to let bygones be bygones just yet.
"Good grief...I'm sorry I called you a pocket calculator," Donald grumbled as the two ducks stepped into the elevator.
One smiled at his partner. "Coffee will be ready shortly."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Darkwing's been through a lot, so I'm sure he and Donald will have plenty to talk about up on the roof. We'll join them next time in I'm No Hero.