Louie opened his eyes later to Huey sitting across from him, wide awake and sitting up straight. Huey always had good posture and it caused his chest to be broader than his or Dewey's, making him look like he was always on watch like some sentinel. He heaved a sigh and rolled over onto his back. "How long was I out?"

Huey looked up from his phone and smiled. "A couple of hours." He gestured towards the cockpit. "Dewey's trying to convince LP to let him land. We're flying over St. Canard as we speak. How's your head?"

Louie pulled himself up on the couch and yawned. The head-splitting ache had receded to a dull thrum at the corners of his temples. "The headache is gone now." Honestly, the thrum felt normal with the usual lack of sleep he dealt with.

"Just in case, maybe you should go and buckle up. We don't want you hitting your head again." Huey pointed up the ladder.

"Forget it. I'm not leaving you down here." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He saw Huey's bandages out of the corner of his eye. The redness had seeped through until the patch over his gash glistened with blood. Ugh, booooo! There's that sticky gut feeling again.

"LP, I promise I can land the plane. I'm ready."

"I'm sorry, Dewey, but it's not a Launchpad McQuack flight without a real crash. That barn could barely be considered a crash in my book."

Dewey tugged on the yoke. "Hey, I get that, trust me. But my brothers have been through enough without adding another Launchpad McQuack landing to the list." I froze up and got Huey hurt the first time. I can't risk that again. Not even for Launchpad.

Launchpad's eyes settled on the sky, his jaw set and hands sweaty on the yoke. "You don't trust me?"

The hurt in his friend's voice made his entire body slump in the chair. "LP, that's not what I meant."

"I know. You'd rather do it without me." Looking away from him, Launchpad pressed a button to give Dewey the controls. "If that's what you want…."

Dewey stared at the back of Launchpad's head for a moment. Agh, Launchpad, that's not what I want. I just- The plane rattled. Dewey yanked the yoke as they came up to the runway, shifting his focus from his best friend to the task at hand. His brothers were down in the belly of the plane, both injured from the last time he was in control of a vehicle. This had to be perfect or he wouldn't hear the end of it.

Dropping the Sunchaser's altitude bit by bit, he steadied her and dove towards the wide, empty runaway. Launchpad's silence stood as a stark contrast to his previous cheering when he had let Dewey take the controls just an hour earlier. Dewey tried his best to ignore it as he guided the big, red bird through the air and landed her safely on the ground. He pressed on the break and glided down the runway before coming to a smooth, complete stop.

Smiling to himself, Dewey turned off the engines and took a breath. I did it. I did it! Man, I wish Mom was here to see that. He turned to Launchpad and his smile faded. The hurt in Launchpad's eyes flipped his own personal victory on its head.

As they loaded out of the plane, Launchpad avoided eye contact and didn't say a word.

"Hey, Dew, nice landing." Louie elbowed him as they stood on the runway and watched workers unload the crates.

Dewey hardly heard him as he watched his best friend stand there, marking off a flight log full of Darkwing Duck drawings in complete solemnity. Did I just break Launchpad?

"Mr. McQuack, that was the best landing we've seen from you in… well… ever!" Mr. Tolby, the runway manager greeted him at the back of the plane once all of the crates had been unloaded.

Launchpad hugged his flight log to his chest and glanced back at Dewey who watched him with a broken smile. He sighed and lowered his head. "Eh, what can I say? The yoke malfunctioned. Couldn't have crashed it if I wanted to."

Tolby's radio rattled at his side. "Can we have confirmation that the fire trucks can return to the station? Repeat, can the firetrucks return to the station?"

The manager chuckled and stepped aside to respond to his team. "Yes, yes, everything is fine here. Send them home." Rubbing the back of his neck, Tolby turned back to Launchpad. "Where can I have my delivery officers take those crates?"

Launchpad handed him a slip with the lab address. "Mr. McD gave instructions to have them load them through the back." He blinked. "Or was it the front?" He tried to picture Mr. McD speaking to him in his head but only Scottish sounds came out of his mouth, no actual words. Hmm, that sounds right.

"Heh, we'll give Mr. McDuck a call before we deliver. How long can we expect your plane to be parked here?"

Launchpad rubbed his chin. "Hmm… how long, you say?" He glanced down at the pictures on his flight log and narrowed his eyes. "However long it takes…."

Silence ensued for several moments before Tolby just heaved a sigh and left.

Launchpad glanced back to see the boys all standing there with duffle bags, waiting for him. Dewey was in the middle of helping his brother stand. However long it takes to win back the trust of my best friend.

"Blergh! How far away is this Darkwing-Drake Mallard guy's place?" Louie grumbled, pulling on the pair of sunglasses he had gotten from Gladstone.

"Shhhh!" Dewey grabbed him by the beak. "Shut it, Loufen! Do you want the whole world to hear?! This is why we don't tell Louie anyone's real name, okay, guys?"

Huey and Launchpad both nodded. "Agreed."

"Hey! We are literally just walking down a sidewalk. No one is listening!"

Launchpad stopped in his tracks and glanced around. He dove into some bushes, searching through them. "Villains could be lurking around every corner, hiding in any crevice… coming up from the very ground we walk upon… like the infamous mole monster…" One glance at Dewey and he coughed, standing. "We're clear."

"You really have no reverence for keeping anything sacred, do you?" Huey limped between his brothers, holding onto their shoulders to keep the weight off of his ankle.

"No wonder you have a crazed prison thug after you. You probably told everyone all of his secrets too."

"Cut it out. I can keep a secret when it actually matters."

"Only if it's one of your beloved schemes," Dewey retorted.

Louie opened his mouth to object before they bumped into Launchpad. "Hey, what-"

"We're here." Launchpad stepped up to the door and knocked.

The door swung open and a perky voice that sounded like pure sunshine with a drizzle of spring rain raised to greet them. "Launchpad!"

Huey tried to see around him. Is that-

"Goslin Waddlemeyer!" Dewey dropped Huey's arm and dove under Launchpad's to grab her in a hug.

"Woah, hey there!" Goslin laughed, hugging him back. "Dewey Duck. I haven't seen the likes of you in ages! What on earth are you all doing here?"

"We caught a ride with Launchpad. Can't a guy surprise his favorite penpal?"

Penpal? When does Dewey ever write? Much less in letter format. Huey lifted his bum ankle and hung onto Louie to see past Launchpad. Finally! He could actually get a look at her. She stood about as tall as Dewey now and wore a lavender t-shirt that fit well with her now grown figure along with her signature green jacket. Dozens of curly flyaways tried to escape her red ponytail. Man, has she always had that green of eyes? How come I never noticed before?

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in, boys!"