Dewey, Launchpad, and Darkwing Duck regrouped outside. "Alright, with those three guarding the laboratory equipment inside the building, we have the perimeter. The last few burglary attempts have happened two hours after sunset. We don't have much time." Darkwing knelt down and laid the blueprints for the lab out on the ground. "I'm going to watch from the rooftop. I'll need one of you to guard the front and one of you to man the Ratcatcher in case the burglar goes on the run. We can't let him get away again."

"You can count on me, Darkwing!" Dewey hopped up onto the Ratcatcher's sleek purple seat and gripped the handlebars, his insides squirming with excitement. Not only am I on a real Darkwing Duck stakeout, but I get to catch criminal scum on the Ratcatcher! No one else on earth gets to say that! He glanced between Darkwing and Launchpad who both just stared at him. "What? I have mad driving skills. I was literally in a car chase this morning."

Darkwing hesitated, running his knuckles under his chin. "Eh, I don't know… hrmnerpdlh-ewey."

Dewey blinked. "It's Dewey."

"Yeah, yeah, I knew that."

"You literally just mumbled every sound in the English dialect and added "ewey" to it."

Darkwing ran his hand along the brim of his hat and chuckled. "Come on, kid. I know your name. I was just messing with you."

Suuuuure you were.

"I was just thinking that Launchpad would be better suited to drive the Ratcatcher. He has a bit more… experience. She can be a little touchy."

Dewey's jaw dropped. "What? But I'm a natural! Trust me. I can handle it. Launchpad, tell-" He snapped his beak shut and looked up at his friend.

Launchpad rubbed his elbow and avoided eye contact.

Oh. Right…. He rubbed his face. "Launchpad, I-"

"Dewey should be the one to drive it, DW."

Darkwing watched between the two of them, clearly sensing the tension. "Fine, I don't care which one of you drives the Ratcatcher. Just don't screw it up, okay? All of Ludwig VonDrake's work depends on it." He launched his grappling hook at the rooftop and disappeared into the night.

Left in the dark alley across from Ludwig's lab, Dewey and Launchpad stared at each other in silence.

"Thanks. For… you know, speaking up for me." Dewey sat back on the motorcycle and rubbed the back of his neck.

Launchpad nodded. "What are friends for?" His voice lowered to that serious tone he always got when something weighed heavily on his mind.

Dewey could never tell how much Launchpad really thought about anything, but when his tone got serious, Launchpad mysteriously seemed to lock everyone else out of his own little world and plunge himself into feelings he didn't normally express. Oftentimes with more wisdom than anyone ever expected. Launchpad turned and crouched behind a trash can, watching the front of the laboratory.

Dewey sighed. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. I didn't mean for any of this. He knows how all of his landings go. He relies on crashing the plane. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off of the motorcycle and stood behind his friend. "LP, I'm sorry for what I said on the plane. I shouldn't have taken the controls from you."

Launchpad kept his eyes narrowed in on the lab. "I understand. You don't have to apologize."

"Ugh, no, you don't understand and I do have to apologize. You're my best friend and I hurt you. I didn't trust you to make a safe landing. I wasn't a good friend or co-pilot." Dewey raked his hand through his hair. "Huey was hurt from the car chase and… I sorta felt responsible for it. In reality, I was just trying to protect myself, and wasn't being fair to you. I'm sorry, Launchpad. I should have trusted you. Will you forgive me for being a bad friend?"

Launchpad tilted his head back just enough for Dewey to spot the smile on his face in the moonlight. He reached his hand back and shook him by the shoulder. "Of course I forgive you, my mole monster brethren. I know I crash more than the average pilot but when I crash, I always crash in a way so that nobody gets hurt. It's something that only Launchpad McQuack can do and I take a lot of pride in that. I didn't mind that you wanted to land the plane… I was worried that you didn't think I was good enough." Launchpad faced him, his eyes soft and understanding. "I just wanted to be good enough for you."

Dewey set his hand on his shoulder. "Launchpad, you'll always be good enough for me. You're the best! I mean, who else can crash like you can?" He smirked. "Darkwing may be a hero but you've always been my hero, ever since I was little. Who do you think inspired me to become a pilot?" He raised his brow, smiling wider.

Launchpad's eyes grew big. "What? I… I thought your mom-"

"I wanted to be a pilot before I ever knew about Mom. Maybe flying is wired into my genetic code but it's you who showed me what it means to be called a pilot. To fight when the skies are rough, to power through even when everything is falling apart, and, most importantly, to pick yourself up when you crash… again and again and again."

Launchpad's eyes welled up with tears. He grabbed Dewey in the kind of squeeze hug that breaks one's bones but he didn't mind one bit. Launchpad really was his hero and no one else could take his place or make him any less worthy in Dewey's eyes.

"Dewey, you're the best non-mole monster brother best friend co-pilot that a pilot like me could ever ask for." Launchpad finally let him go.

Dewey stumbled back, his chest heaving for breath. "This is off-topic but the whole mole monster thing is an inside joke now, right? You've settled on the fact that we aren't moles, monsters, or mole monsters?"

Launchpad slowly nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Right. Riiiiiight."

Wait, how many years has he-oh nevermind. Dewey looked up just as a smoke bomb went off in front of the laboratory and St. Canard's caped crusader flew down through the air. "LP!"

"On it." Launchpad flung himself over the trashcan and into action.

Dewey clambered onto the massive bike and watched through the alley for the thief. He could barely see anything through the smoke but the sounds of fists making contact made his heart race. Man, maybe I should have picked the other job. I would have gotten more action.

"Waahhh! Ouch!" Louie's cries of panic crackled through the radio on his hip.

Dewey grabbed the radio. "Louie?"

The radio cracked. "Where are you?! We're kind of tied up in here!"

"What's going on? Are you okay?" He held his breath, holding it to his ear.

"HAhhhhlpp! crrrrk-keeek" The radio went silent. The sound of glass breaking brought Dewey's head up. Vines weaved out of the laboratory and all around the building, like the tentacles of a leviathan from the darkest part of the sea.

"Wahwah! Giant snakes. Giant snakes are coming out of the ground!" Launchpad flailed his arms, dangling upside down as one of the massive, green vines constricted around his legs.

"Suck gas, evildoer!" Darkwing sprayed purple smoke from his gas gun. One of the vines held him around the ankle and he struggled to see around his cape and the smoke.

"Let's get Dewngerous." Dewey revved the Ratcatcher awake and peeled out of the alley. He ran over the tangles of vines that held Launchpad, slicing them with the tires. Launchpad dropped out of the air and landed on his face.

"Jag är okej!" He lifted his thumb up and his head swirling in a circle as he peeled it off of the pavement.

Dewey spun the Ratcatcher around and smashed through more of the vines as they came, freeing Darkwing before going around the building. "The whole thing is covered in vines! We got to get my brothers out of there but how are we going to get in?!"

Darkwing stamped on one of the budding vines and stared up at the laboratory. "This can only be the work of one man. Dr. Reginald Bushroot."

Brushroot? But how is that possible? He's just a cartoon character and the ramrod thingy sucked him back into his dimension with all the other Darkwing Duck villains. Dewey drove around the lab a few more times, his mind spinning. If Huey was out here, I'm sure he'd have an explanation.

Louie's voice had sounded choked over the phone. Who knew what Bushroot was doing to them in there? "We have to get in there. There's no time." I have to do something. He pulled the motorcycle to a stop and stared up at the tower of vines that was swallowing the laboratory and then glanced over at Darkwing who was busy tying up a wad of weeds that were after him.

Dewey felt the gross, cold feeling of helplessness rising in his chest and seizing his limbs. The last time he had that feeling, both of his brothers got hurt. He couldn't let that happen again. "I have to… I have to-no…" He glanced back at Launchpad. "He has to."

He sped the Ratcatcher over to his friend, hopping off pushing him up onto the seat. "Launchpad, you have to crash!"

"What?" Launchpad haphazardly climbed onto the Ratcatcher, his eyes still spinning from hitting his head.

Dewey grabbed his face and pointed it towards the lab. "Crash, Launchpad McQuack! CRASH!"

Launchpad blinked and centered his eyes ahead. He grabbed Dewey by the shoulders and set him on the back of the motorcycle. "Say no more." Hunched over the handlebars, LP turned the nose of the Ratcatcher towards the mountain of weeds and did what he does best. He crashed.