This was a trap. Drake knew that it was, but he didn't let that stop him. It wouldn't be the first time that he had walked into a situation where he knew he was probably going to be outmatched. Usually he did it as a matter of pride, because he didn't want to let anybody else tell him what he could and couldn't do. Sometimes though, like today, he did it because he had no choice.
Quackerjack was in Negaduck's arms. The poor kid didn't stand a chance against the villain. Especially if he didn't understand just what trouble he was in. That was the thing with Quackerjack. Half the time he was able to stay one step ahead of anybody he went up against, striking fast, and then thundering ahead while his opponent was blind-sided.
It was the other half that Drake worried about. The times when Quackerjack wasn't just two of three steps behind, but he was completely oblivious to the game going on around him. When Quackerjack eventually realized he was getting played, he either got angry and got ten times more violent and dangerous, or he got upset and just shut down, leaving himself completely vulnerable.
Negaduck was dragging Quackerjack into this feud, and the kid had no idea what he had been thrown into the middle of. He would figure it out eventually, and when he did he would either become a danger to everybody around him, or a danger to himself, and Drake didn't know which one was worse.
So even though this was just what Negaduck wanted, and Drake hated to give his doppleganger what he wanted, he didn't have a choice. Quackerjack needed him.
He really wished the kids weren't here though.
"What is this place?" Megavolt asked as he looked around the practically abandoned warehouse.
"Quackerjack's old factory." Drake said. "From back before he even became a villain."
There were old, forgotten toys lying around, along with broken machinery. There were scorch marks on the ground, and so many parts of the ceiling and wall had holes in it that Drake wondered how the structural integrity of this place was. A part of Drake wondered how things had gotten so bad here, when it had once been the warehouse and main workshop for Quackerjack's beloved company that he had cared so much about. Why would he let it get in such disrepair when it was clear he hadn't completely abandoned it?
Then Drake remembered that Quackerjack had always cared more about having fun than stopping to consider the safety and practicality of his actions. Looking around this place, Drake quietly wondered if it was actually the unpopularity of his toys that had put him out of business, or if the hazards of the workplace had contributed a thing or two.
Before, Drake would have clicked his teeth and shook his head, seeing all of this as a sign that Quackerjack just didn't deserve to have his company be back in business. After all, he could have just made his toys less dangerous. He could have made sure his employees weren't as likely to get hurt on the job. He could buck up, grow up, and accept his bankruptcy with dignity, like an adult should.
But now Drake wasn't so sure. Being in this warehouse, having memories of both his villain Quackerjack, and the innocent kid he'd been watching out for, he could easily imagine how the other duck had been before his fall from grace. Excited, passionate, and hyper-focused. Wanting nothing more than to get his ideas and toys out there in the world, but not understanding just how to go about doing so.
Drake thought that Quackerjack's biggest problem was just that he didn't understand how the world worked. In a way Drake related, because he didn't really get it either. He didn't get how people could go from day to day, week to week, with their energy and motivation levels remaining consistent. He didn't understand how people could go to sleep and wake up so easily when some days he couldn't keep his eyes closed, and others the only thing that eventually dragged him out of bed was Gosalyn.
Drake had known since he was a teenager that he didn't really fit in with most people, but he didn't let that stop him. When he had days where he couldn't hold still, and his mind was going a mile a minute, and it actually felt impossible to consider something as trivial as safety and practicality, he would don his mask and go out as Darkwing Duck. When he had days where all of that energy was zapped out of him, he sat around the house, maybe did a little gardening, and let Drake Mallard take over again.
He'd adapted, and for years Drake had the mindset that if he could do it, then everybody else could too. He could empathize with people who were down on their luck just because they couldn't fit in with society, but he just couldn't figure out how to sympathize with them.
Getting to know these kids though, everything had changed. Drake could see how much they struggled to function even just as kids, where they didn't have to worry about things like jobs, or finances, or other responsibilities. Megavolt's memories were so scattered that he couldn't even remember what time it was when there was a clock right in front of him. They'd tried different reminders, but nothing had clicked yet. How could he get through a schedule of any kind with a memory like that?
Bushroot and Liquidator were mutants, and would not be easily accepted just on that basis. Drake had a hard time imagining Bushroot being able to handle the prosecution and ridicule he would be subjected to. Liquidator had thicker skin, metaphorically speaking, but he couldn't sleep or eat, and it was already picking at his sanity. How much worse would it be in a decade or two?
And then there was Quackerjack, who not only saw the world differently than most people did, but he seemed incapable of understanding that not everybody saw things the way he did. It wasn't that he didn't understand why people played with video games and didn't like his toys, he actually couldn't understand it. It was as though Quackerjack was living in a world that was ever so slightly different from reality.
They could all probably cope and figure stuff out, with help, but Drake didn't know how to be that help, and there weren't a lot of people lining up to volunteer for the job. Drake had come to realize that the problem wasn't that Quackerjack struggled to fit in with society, it was that society couldn't be bothered to help people like him figure things out.
And Drake hadn't been much better.
He would get better though. For the sake of the kids, he'd do better. He had to. First though, he had to get Quackerjack back. He needed to get the kid out from Negaduck's control.
Bushroot reached for one of the teddy bears. Drake grabbed his arm and pulled it back. He didn't know if the toy would have exploded, or if it was one of Quackerjack's few completely safe toys, but he wasn't going to chance it.
"Guys, if you're going to be here with me, you need to not do anything." Drake said sternly. He gave them a similar rule that he gave to Gosalyn whenever she followed him on his patrols. "You're going to do as I say, because if you don't I'm going to march you right back home myself." It was half an empty threat. He wouldn't hesitate to get them out of the warehouse, but he'd probably leave them outside, call Launchpad to pick them up, and continue after Quackerjack on his own.
It was something he should probably do anyways, but Drake didn't want to give these kids any other reason to distrust him. He was already on thin ice with them, and he didn't want to push it. Besides, while Quackerjack would probably mess with him, Drake hoped that he would leave the other kids alone.
"What would be the fun of that?" A playful tone teased from the shadows. It was the very person he had wanted to hear, but the last tone he had wanted to hear from him. This wasn't the cheerful child that he'd come to care about. This was the tone of Quackerjack, his villain.
Drake pulled the other kids behind him, though he needed to reach for Megavolt before he could lurch towards his friend
"Hey, Quacky." Drake said evenly. He did his best to not let fear show. He wasn't really afraid of Quackerjack. Negaduck was the real threat here, but he had gone after Quackerjack for a reason. The villain had plans for him, and that was what Drake was afraid of.
"Negsy said you would look for us here." Quackerjack came into sight, and Drake cringed at the sight. He was wearing his jester hat, which was way too big for him. It fell over his eyes, and the dangles were hanging on the floor. Drake had always had a hard time taking Quackerjack seriously, because he just looked ridiculous. He looked even sillier now, but Drake didn't like what that hat meant. Negaduck was trying to bring Quackerjack into villainy, and Drake had let this happen.
He hadn't thought that Negaduck was a threat to Quackerjack. He'd made a mistake. Going against Negaduck was always a gamble, but Drake had bet the kid, and he never should have even considered doing it. The second that he realized that Quackerjack was being targeted, he should have started investigating why, not ignored it because it was easy.
Quackerjack tilted his head, looking younger than ever. "How did he know?"
Drake slowly sighed. "I knew that if Negaduck was wanting you to play your games, then he would make sure you had the toys you needed. There were a couple of places where you kept your stock, but this warehouse was different." It was the location of Quackerjack's downfall. If Negaduck wanted him to be a villain again, maybe he was hoping that by bringing him back to his villainous roots, it would spark something. An old instinctive hatred.
Quackerjack smiled, more than just a little amused. "So he came here because he knew you'd come here, and you came here because you knew he'd come?" He giggled. "You really are just like each other. No wonder you can't beat each other in your games."
"Well, I wouldn't say that I can't beat him." Drake muttered. He struggled to get the upperhand against Negaduck sometimes, but good always prevails over evil…even if evil always comes back.
"Well, now we're playing my games." Quackerjack said. "Negaduck promised me some fun." He had to have promised or threatened more than that to sway Quackerjack. The kid had fun and played games just fine back home.
Drake stepped towards Quackerjack, gesturing for the other kids to stay put. They could help Quackerjack, but not when he was like this. "I'll play with you, but it has to be just me. Your friends don't have to have anything to do with this." He expected Quackerjack to whine and moan about how games were more fun with more people, but the boy just smiled broadly.
"Okay." Quackerjack said. He approached Drake, who stiffened, ready to have a toy-turned-real gun pointed in his face. He blinked when the boy remained empty-handed. The kid just tapped his bill. "Boop. You're it!"
Drake blinked and stared blankly at Quackerjack. "It?"
"Tag!" Quackerjack giggled. "You're it!" He skipped off. "Come and get me!"
Drake stood still for a long moment, trying to figure out what had just happened. Quackerjack loved his games, but they always involved his toys. Drake wasn't used to a game without tricks and toys. There had to be more to this than just a game of tag.
Drake took a deep breath. "Okay, let's do this." He gave the boys a sharp look. "Kids, stay here. Don't move. I'll take care of it from here." The kids would be great at picking up the pieces when Quackerjack inevitably crashed and burned, but Drake needed to be the one to bring him to a safe place.
Drake didn't check to see if the boys did as they were told. He just ran after Quackerjack. He ran into the other room, only to find Quackerjack standing on the other side of the room, rocking on his heels.
"Aren't you supposed to be running?" Drake asked. He walked towards Quackerjack, only to freeze when the boy just giggled deviously.
"I don't have to." Quackerjack said playfully. He spread his arms out, gesturing to the floor. Drake finally noticed that there were markings all across it, random numbers and symbols that had nothing to do with each other. "Hopscotch!"
Drake raised an eyebrow. "You know, this isn't actually how hopscotch works." Where was the pebble? And just the numbers one through ten? How was this supposed to work?
"It's how my version goes." Quackerjack said in a sing-song voice. "Make sure you don't step on the wrong spots. If you do…" He trailed off with a giggle and skipped off to the next room. Drake scowled and examined the floor. Everything looked the same, but looks could be deceiving when it came to Quackerjack. Drake wouldn't put it past him to booby trap his warehouse somehow.
Drake studied the symbols carefully, looking for any kind of pattern. He noticed that there were more numbers than anything else. They weren't in numerical order, and there was no pattern to them, but it was the only thing that made sense. And Quackerjack had called this game hopscotch, which was a game of numbers.
Now with a plan, Drake confidently jumped from one drawn number on the floor to another, feeling more and more confident with every uneventful second. Before long, he was on the other side of the room, and he hurried off after the kid.
He didn't see Quackerjack in the room, but there was only one door on the other end. It was clear where the kid had gone. Drake started to run across the room, but he stopped when the lights suddenly changed colors, suddenly turning red. Just as suddenly as the lights became red, they switched to the color green.
Red light. Green light…Well, that didn't bode well.
Drake started running again, faster than before. All too soon the light turned red, and he froze, not daring to move a muscle. He didn't know what would happen to him if he didn't hold still. For all he knew, Quackerjack had set up some toy that detected motion when the lights were red, and it would fire a missile at him or something.
The light was only red for a few seconds, but it felt like forever. Finally, they switched to green and Drake was off. He was able to get halfway across the room before the light changed again. He froze mid-step, almost tripping and falling.
"What are you doing?" He almost fell again when he heard Bushroot behind him. He just barely stopped himself from swirling around to see the three boys.
"What did I tell you?" Drake growled with as little movement as he could manage. "I'll take care of Quackerjack."
"It looks like you could use some help." Liquidator looked around. "What are you doing?" The light turned green again, and Drake turned to glare at the kids. He pointed back at the entrance.
"Leave." He started running again, and cringed when he heard the boys running after him. "Guys!" The light changed to red again, and his frustration turned to panic. "Guys, don't move. Whatever you do, don't move."
"Or what?" Bushroot asked.
"You might get hurt." Drake said.
"You think Quackerjack would hurt us?" Megavolt asked in complete disbelief.
"I think that Negaduck would, without hesitation." And the boys couldn't argue with that. At least, he hadn't thought they would, but then Liquidator proved him wrong.
When the light turned green Liquidator shot ahead in a blast of water, and when the light turned red he kept going. He kept moving, even though the others froze. Drake was worried that he would see the kid get blasted right in front of him, but nothing happened. Liquidator made it to the other side of the room in just a moment. He tossed some water at some exposed wires in the wall, and the lights shorted out. They could move safely.
"Liqui, that was great." Drake said as he ran through the darkness towards the dog. "But don't you ever do that again." He didn't want the boys to be here, but now that they'd made it this far he made sure to keep them close as they moved on.
"Is Quackerjack playing games with you?" Bushroot asked. "Why?"
"I've never been able to figure that part out." Drake sighed. "He's always done this kind of thing."
Megavolt was sparking slightly, making the expression on his face visible. He looked confused and nervous. "But…I thought Jacky liked to play with toys. Like, he likes these games, but toys are his favorite, and there are toys everywhere here. Where are they?"
That was…something that Drake should have thought about earlier. This wasn't like Quackerjack at all, and not just because of the lack of toys. Quackerjack liked to drag other people into his games, but he had always been in the thick of things. Why hadn't he been playing right alongside them? For Quackerjack, what was the point of a game if he didn't get to participate.
Something was wrong, and Drake had a bad feeling about all of this.
The next room was large, empty, and dimly lit. Quackerjack was curled up near the wall, holding Mr. Banana Brain close to his chest and rocking back and forth. Drake hated to see him upset, and he felt a little guilty because he had a pretty good idea of what was wrong.
"You cheated." Quackerjack muttered as Drake came closer. "You didn't play by the rules." Liquidator had ignored the game of red light green light. Quackerjack never liked it when he felt like his games were ruined. Drake personally thought that when it came to self defense, all bets were off, but he had to remind himself that Quackerjack didn't see it that way. He may not even understand the very real danger they were all in. He might actually think that this was all just a game.
"I'm sorry, kid." Drake said as sincerely as he could manage right now. "They came into the game late. They didn't know the rules."
Quackerjack stiffened and pulled on the dangles of his hat. Drake didn't like seeing him wear that thing, but this was better than him pulling at his feathers. He wished he'd thought to come up with a healthy alternative before. A scarf, or a different hat with dangles. Something that wouldn't mean hurting himself or turning back to something so closely associated with his villainous persona.
"They're easy games." Quackerjack growled. He stomped his feet. "Everybody knows how to play!"
Drake didn't think that pointing out that the other boys probably hadn't known that they were playing would be received very well. He tried a different approach.
"Why didn't you play with us?" Drake asked. Quackerjack frozen. "It couldn't have been very fun to just sit there and watch us play without you."
Quackerjack was still for a long moment before he started shaking. Drake heard him sobbing. He let go of his caution and approached the boy. He knelt next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Quackerjack jolted before letting out a cry and leaning against him. Drake pulled the kid close, not caring about the tears getting all over his shirt.
He sat there for several minutes before Quackerjack calmed down. Drake rubbed his back. "Hey, kid, you're okay."
"I lost." Quackerjack whined. "You tagged me." Drake had forgotten that this whole thing had started as a game of tag.
"Well, that's okay. You'll get me next time." Drake assured him. Quackerjack let out a giggle, but then it grew to a chuckle, and then a full-blown laugh. Drake was more than just a little bit concerned.
"Yeah, I will." Quackerjack pulled back from Drake. He was holding something that he hadn't had before. Drake had just enough time to see the can of what looked like silly string being pointed at him before Quackerjack let loose. It looked and felt like silly string, but it hardened immediately. Drake's arms were stuck to his chest.
"Wha…?" He started to stand up, to either move away or get the can away from the boy, but Quackerjack giggled and leapt back, running around him, still spraying him, encasing him even more. "Quackerjack! What are you doing?!"
"Changing the rules." Quackerjack smiled broadly, though there were still tears streaming down his cheeks. "Just like he said."
Drake felt a shiver go down his spine. This wasn't surprising to hear, but that didn't make it any less concerning. He knew exactly who that he was, and Drake had been a fool to let himself forget about him for a second.
""Don't look so disappointed, Darkwing." Negaduck said coolly as he stepped around the corner. He sneered at Drake and put a hand on Quackerjack's shoulder. The boy grimaced ever so slightly, but in the blink of an eye he was smiling again and someone could convince themselves that they had just imagined the brief look of fear.
Drake couldn't.
"Leave him alone, Negaduck." Drake growled. "This is between you and me. Leave them out of it."
"Now why would I do that?" Negaduck said in that mocking tone of his. "I have him right where I want him, and just because of that, I have you where you belong. On your knees, begging pathetically. No, little Quackerjack's staying right with me, at least until he stops being useful." And that was what scared Drake the most, because when Negaduck didn't think that somebody was useful to him, he thought that they were a waste of air and space.
"What now?" Drake asked, because keeping Negaduck talking was his only available tool right now. The desire to talk, to gloat, to have somebody recognize their brilliance, was a flaw in both of them.
"Now?" Quackerjack rocked on his heels, smiling excitedly. He looked at Negaduck, and then down at the can in one hand and Mr. Banana Brain in the other. "Now is where the game really begins."
