DARK DUCK: FOWLed

CHAPTER ONE

PART 2

Launchpad's Nightmare

The criminal loomed overhead, but Darkwing Duck was helpless as the blackness swamped him.

With an electrifying shock filled with apprehension, Darkwing's mind jumped back into consciousness. He found himself on the wooden floor with Steelbeak still standing over him ... Well, that explained the apprehension.

A jab of pain wrenched his gut. A bullet wound? No. Knife? No. Hunger? Hunger! What? He jumped up and unbalanced Steelbeak. Hunger wasn't going to kill him, and he had a job to do.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night ..." Darkwing directed his words at Steelbeak who was staring at him with astonishment, his eyes wide open.
Steelbeak blinked, "This cain't be possible. I killed you. Why'd you-but-you're-supposed-to-'stay-down'!" He finished in a furious outrage.
"I am the nightmare that keeps on returning." The crime fighter seized the F.O.W.L. agent and hurled him out of his personal space. He grabbed his gas gun and fired at the criminal. The netting grenade opened out and trapped Steelbeak for the moment.

"I am Darkwing Duck." Darkwing finished, returning his gas gun to its holster on his back.

His sidekick Launchpad looked at him as if he hadn't seen him in years. "Thanks, DW." The expression on Launchpad's face was an unintelligible mixture of emotions.
"Don't think anything of it, LP. That's my job." Darkwing dismissed. Other things were on his mind. Like his stomach which continued to howl at him.

"DW, Steelbeak said that stuff was poisonous." Launchpad told him worriedly.
"Oh, yeah? Well, it takes a bit more than a little poison to kill this Midnight Mallard." Darkwing picked up the edge of his cape and spun around, showing off a flourish of health. "Now, come on, LP. Let's free the hostage, and then we can get a snack on the way home. I'm starving." Darkwing turned towards Steelbeak.

"Oh, boy, I am loving that ... idea ...DW?" Launchpad's relief gave way to uneasiness as he watched Darkwing moving slowly across the room towards Steelbeak.

Darkwing paused for a moment, then he reached forwards empty-handed towards Steelbeak caught in the net. A silent alarm bell went off in Launchpad's head. He couldn't place it, but something was desperately wrong with this picture.
"DW!" Launchpad called out, rushing across the room.
Darkwing started and spun around, letting go of the net. "What's wrong, Launchpad?"
"Uh ... maybe we should swap, DW? I'll get the cuffs on Steelbeak, and you can free the mail lady."
Darkwing made a double-take. "Sure, but ... why?"

"Well, there's a reason they had her unconscious." Launchpad replied quickly, talking it up. "She'll probably be trouble waking up. I think I'd rather my chances with Steelbeak."
Steelbeak chortled. "Aw, who's afraid of a little ol' vampire?"
"I am." Launchpad said in a bold voice. "And you should be too, Steelbeak."

Darkwing shrugged, "sure, okay, LP." He turned away from Launchpad and Steelbeak and went back across the room to where the hostage lay on the cot.

Launchpad pulled out a set of cuffs from his pocket and handcuffed Steelbeak through the netting. Then he turned to check on DW.

Darkwing had undone the bindings on the post officer. "I'll get her home." He announced, picked her up and then vanished.
"Sure, DW," Launchpad pulled out his cell phone and dialled for a pickup. "This is Launchpad McQuack. We need a wagon to pick up Steelbeak. We're in the R.M.S. Donny K. at the Maritime Museum. Hurry though; the sleeping gas won't keep the F.O.W.L. gunners upstairs out of it for too long." Launchpad closed his cell phone.

"Dumb luck; it just plain don't make sense. I got him. You saw him go down."

Launchpad frowned. "Next time I have a feeling you won't be so lucky to have me around, Steelbeak."
"What, you got a thought up in that head of yours? I got a job here."
"Yeah, Steelbeak; your job," Launchpad frowned, "It's getting you into a lot of trouble. You ever had the thought that maybe it's just not worth it?"
"I like my job." Steelbeak gritted, "Why am I even talking to you?"
"Yeah, that's a good point, Steelbeak; I should be doing something more worthwhile with my time than trying to mind your business for you." Launchpad left Steelbeak alone and went around handcuffing the assorted groaning and unconscious eggmen lying scattered around the hold.

That job kept Launchpad busy until the S.H.U.S.H. officers came streaming into the room to relieve him. Launchpad had even less to say to Agent Lanley than he did to Steelbeak about things, because, for all his gut feeling was telling him, that was all he had to go on with.

To get out of the place without DW's aid, Launchpad took the easy option and went up the stairs to the deck. The air up here was much nicer with the smell of varnish on the wood surfaces and the unhampered salty sea breeze wafting in from the bay. Then he went down the gangplank and doubled back out of the Maritime Museum to the street. There was a feeling of doom in Launchpad's chest that he couldn't quite place. Was it the way that DW had moved towards Steelbeak? "Oh, gosh." 'What if DW doesn't come back?' He fretted and hurried back to the parked rat-catcher.

"There you are, LP." Darkwing started the engine and Launchpad jumped into the sidecar. "Let's get something to eat before I faint."

Launchpad sat back in relief. Maybe it was dumb luck, and DW really was okay.

A quarter of an hour later they were at the Hungry Hippo outlet and Launchpad and Darkwing's orders came across the counter for them. DW took one look at the hamburger on his plate before sliding it across to Launchpad.

"Gee, DW, I thought you were hungry?" Launchpad wasn't about to say no to an extra hamburger of course, but just the same.

"Yeah, but I ... ooh, boy." DW grimaced, clutching his stomach. "I couldn't eat that ... slop." DW grabbed the front of Launchpad's jumper, looking very, very grave. There was a spectral glint in his eye that Launchpad had never seen. "Come on, Launchpad, let's ... get ... vegetables." He let go of Launchpad quite as suddenly as he had seized him. He swanned off his stool and was off down the street in a flash, not waiting for Launchpad to catch up.

"Uh," Launchpad looked at the waitperson. He wasn't the type to waste food, and so thought very quickly on the matter, "Can I get this to go?"

With Darkwing already left down the street, Launchpad had a chance to take stock as the attendant handed him a paper bag with the hamburger wrapped up. And his instincts told him that, while Darkwing Duck was certainly not dead like Steelbeak had hoped, there was still something definitely wrong with the Masked Mallard.

Launchpad followed DW's direction down the street and caught up with him at the Last Minute late night convenience store just up the next block. DW was sitting on the nearby bench having already devoured half a bag of oranges, and was ravenously finishing off an apple. Launchpad sat down next to DW's bunch of bananas and finished the extra hamburger.

When Launchpad was paying attention to his friend again he noticed that the only thing left of all the oranges, apples and bananas was the banana skins and the bags they'd been in. "I've never seen you eat that fast, DW."
"Why am I still hungry? I should be sick from eating that much in one go." Darkwing lamented.
"Maybe you just need a drink to wash it down with. How about some juice?"
"I don't know ... nothing else is working." DW balled up the rubbish and threw it into the trash can beside the bench.

"A bit of juice won't hurt, anyway. I'll get it." Launchpad went into the store and fetched a large bottle of super-juice from the grocery section. He couldn't place it while he was at the counter collecting his change, but for some funny old reason the bottle of tomato juice was giving him a strange feeling of déjà vu.

By the time Launchpad had come back out of the store and handed his buddy the drink, DW wasn't feeling very positive anymore. "Come on, LP, it's madness to stick around here."

They got back to the rat-catcher and Darkwing put the bottle of juice into the sidecar's compartment. He switched to his helmet as Launchpad climbed in.

Ten minutes later, they were back at Darkwing Tower.

As soon as he'd stopped the engine, DW grabbed the bottle from beside Launchpad. Sitting there on the driver's seat, he downed the tomato juice in one excessively long swig that made Launchpad's feathers prickle. DW lowered the empty bottle.

There was a misery on his friend's face that made Launchpad ache with sadness. All that the air ace could do was watch helplessly as DW battled the relentless hunger. That hunger ... Launchpad could remember that hunger. Tingling with jerky frightened nerves, Launchpad jumped out of the sidecar. He knew that feeling!

Darkwing sank to the floor by the motorcycle's front wheel. "What the heck is wrong with me?" He cried out hysterically. The sound of his own terrified voice echoing in the stone hideaway frightened DW back into reality. He swallowed his next outburst, working to regain his composure.

"You probably just need some rest, DW." Launchpad said with as much confidence as he could fake. "It looks to me like it could be a stomach bug or something," Launchpad suggested without even blinking. The little white lies came easy when he needed them.
"Yeah," DW agreed to this idea, "Coming, Launchpad?"
"Uh, no-no, I'll ... just finish up here. Top up the fuel and stuff. You know." He started towards their fuel cache and then turned for a moment, "Goodnight, buddy."

"Sure. You too, LP," Darkwing wearily headed towards the trap door.

The instant he'd disappeared, Launchpad collapsed to the stone floor in tears. "Steelbeak was experimenting ... with vampires."

All this reminded Launchpad of that horrid night, some time last year, when they had accidentally arrived at the Macawber family castle through Morgana's magic portal. In a single gesture, Moloculo had transfigured Launchpad into a vampire bat. It had been just for a night, but the experience still sometimes woke Launchpad up as he slept, remembering that terrible, nightmarish hunger.

And now DW had it! The same hunger that no amount of tomato juice could ever stop and the horrid craving that wouldn't leave him alone. But this time it was not a magic spell, and reality couldn't be undone. Launchpad would only make a worse mess of things for trying. These things he knew with all his heart and it tore him in two.

"Steady, Launchpad, steady." He took deep gulping breaths. "This happened to him, because he took the hit for me." He wiped the tears from his eyes. "The last thing that Darkwing Duck would ever do is lose control and hurt an innocent." All the same, for his own conscience, he'd better make sure Gosalyn was alright.

Launchpad ignored the rat-catcher, and went to the trap door.

Moral/Overview: Sometimes, a white lie will help a person better than the truth.