And here we go; chapter two of this sad tale -again, I'm still trying to get this done before the end of the month. So far, I'm still on schedule, but who knows what might happen...
Still, I hope you like this little story of mine so far, and be assured that I will be back with more.
Enjoy, and don't forget to R&R!
Disclaimer: I don't own one single bit in this except for the plot. All rights are Tad Jones and Disney, without any financial profit whatsoever
Warnings: PG-13 for some graphic details and character death
Summary: A scheme by the Fearsome Five leads to a tragic loss, which affects the entire Darkwing family. How will they cope?
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Beryllium Flowers
ll Blinding darkness
They buried him as Drake Mallard among the other dozens of victims, who had lost their lives in the infamous war.
Even S.H.U.S.H.'S former director J. P. Gander and his successor Grizzlykoff had come to pay their respects; seeing as how many a good agent had lost their life in the fight, their presence was justified.
J.P. Gander handed the medal of honour to Gosalyn in a secretive moment. Morgana, who stood next to her, was lost in a grieving trance; her usually lucid green eyes dull and empty, even as tears rolled down her pale cheeks in an endless flow. To her, mortal honours meant nothing any more.
Though there had been video footage of him being shot, no one else knew exactly how bad the damage had been and if or when Darkwing would recover from his injuries. It was best to leave the criminal element as well as the citizens of St. Canard guessing about his death.
Morgana Mallard-Macawber didn't even blink, as she heard the approaching footsteps. As the person drew closer and finally came to stand next to her, the sorceress inhaled deeply and, fighting back the tears, rose her head.
"Launchpad's back at home. I gave him some sedatives, so he can finally get some rest," muttered Gosalyn.
Tired, almond-shaped emerald eyes closed in concern and gratitude.
"He hasn't slept since -it happened," rasped Morgana, clasping her batwing-leather handbag in her gloved hand.
"Neither have you, mom", answered Gosalyn, letting her eyes roam unseeing over the marble plate reading
'Drake Mallard, beloved husband, father and best friend 1963-2001'.
"Neither have any of us" she concluded, swallowing hard.
One by one, tears quilled from her eyes to roll over her cheeks and fall in an endless string of pearls on the flowers placed upon the grave.
Morgana had no more tears left to cry, but her left hand, the one which had placed the deep crimson rose on her husband's grave, clenched in barely restrained fury.
Launchpad had taken it harder than many thought possible. Starting off as a fanboy and going from sidekick to being an equal partner, him and Drake had over the years developed a bond way past friendship. He had been Darkwing's trusted war mate and Drake's closest confidant. He had stood by him neither hail, rain nor storm, and in return, Drake had given him something, the pilot had barely ever experienced: complete, blind and unadulterated trust.
And the brother he never had.
"So?"
Neither of her remaining family members answered. Gosalyn sighed. It had been two months, and St. Canard had still not really recovered from its ordeal.
Some argued, that it never would.
Again, Gosalyn sighed, then rose and, reaching for her bow, donned her father's cape, stating;
"Multiple counts for espionage, felonious attack, battery, second degree murder, theft, high treason, endangerment of national security...Negaduck isn't going to see the light of day again. Quackerjack got eight times life, Liquidator five times, Megavolt six and Bushroot three."
She drew a deep breath.
"For all it's worth, at least justice has been served."
"Will it bring back my Drake?" murmured Morgana. Launchpad gave a single, pained sob, and Gosalyn- pardon, Quiverwing- lowered her head, eyelids hiding the upwelling tears.
There's nothing we can do, mom", she whispered. Swallowing hard, she added;
"I miss him too."
Morgana stared at a point beyond the horizon; the view which their headquarters over Audubon Bridge provided.
"Maybe there is", she hushed, a strange light making her green eyes shine with just the slightest spark of hope.
Launchpad and Quiverwing blinked at her, uncomprehendingly, then Gosalyn inhaled sharply.
"Mom, you're not seriously thinking about resurrection, are you? That's not going to work in a million years!"
Morgana's jaw tightened.
"There are other methods".
twenty-one weeks later
The machine beeped; tiny blue bulbs blinking in rhythm, then going dark. Sleek and black, the cover dimly reflected the bystanders' faces gathered near the device.
Morgana looked over to the scientist, some Dr. Sarah Bellum; a tall, pretty canary, with a shock of jet-black hair tied in a ponytail and large round glasses. She knew her to be one of Darkwing's associates and the inventor of many of the technological devices, the Masked Mallard used to test.
And, she was also the only one Morgana trusted with her ...project.
With a faint swooshing noise, the lid of the container opened, both women frozen in mid-motion.
Slowly, hesitantly, a hand rose from within, grasped the edge of the cask, thus steadying the uprising figure within. Cold, slick fluids dripped from the beak, matted the feathers and coated the entire body with a thin layer of sheen.
Large eyes under finely chiselled brows blinked uncomprehendingly, unfocused, then swept the room with a dislocated glance.
Morgana gasped mutely. Dr. Bellum bit her lip.
"It lives," she hushed incredulous, as the body attempted to clamber out of the tub.
Morgana rushed forward with a readied, warm towel, wrapping it around the staggering person.
She was rewarded with a shaky, grateful smile, as she hushed;
"Welcome back, darling."
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Is it me, or has my writing gone hokey? I guess I am out of practice; because this read so much better when I first penned it down...
Again, tell me what you think, and I'll be back in a couple of days with the next chapter
