Even though Morgana wasn't a huge fan of beans, she took the small bowl from Negaduck anyway. It was cracked, and appeared to be the only one available. She almost smiled, but then saw him slurping noisily out of the ladle, and wondered how many times he'd done that before he'd slopped a portion for her in the dainty bowl. Her stomach gave a monstrous growl, urging her to gulp the beans down in only three mouthfuls. That spell had taken a lot out of her. Negaduck looked over his shoulder, and she blushed. He had to have heard that.

"So…" He took his fedora off and scratched his head feathers.

"So." Morgana replied through the beans. Pinto. Great. My least favorite bean. For more reasons than the way they taste.

"I have SO many questions…" He trailed off as her body seemed to deflate. She hated that she was so weak around somebody that was so dangerous.

"But… I can see you're still pretty damn tired, so I'll go easy on you."

"Really." Morgana drawled sarcastically.

"Yeah, really. I wouldn't want you whining to me later about how I kept you up all night with my incessant chatting."

"Alright, Negaduck. What do you want to know?"

"Well, for one… How the hell are you here?" He turned back to the pot of beans, stirring it slowly. Morgana sighed, deflating even more.

"I should think that was obvious." She set the empty bowl down and laid flat on the makeshift bed. It was really just a pile of soft things. Clothes. Pillows. She wiggled around to get comfortable, then nearly sat up again when she felt something hard nearly embed itself into her spine.

"Ouch, what the…" She fished around between two pillows and felt the cold, hard length of a shotgun. Of course. Negaduck grinned at her wolfishly.

"Hey, I was wondering where that one went off to." He grabbed the gun from her, cracking it open as easy as an egg and nodding to himself before snapping it closed again.

"It… was LOADED?" Morgana exclaimed, horrified.

"Well, duh."

"Negaduck, there is NOBODY HERE."

"So what? Is that any reason to keep my poor guns empty?" He hugged the weapon to himself like it was a small child that he adored. The fond look on his face made Morgana heartsick. She saw a crystal clear picture of Drake with Gosalyn, holding her close. She turned her head, so Negaduck couldn't see the tears threatening to well up in her eyes.

"Obvious, huh?" He kept talking, and she wanted to ignore him. This was a nightmare. Nobody wanted to be stuck with an awful version of the one they loved. The man didn't seem to have a heart, or feelings. She might as well be stuck with a statue of Darkwing. One that was constantly going up in flames.

"Are you talking about that Duckthulu thing? Damn, that was crazy, right? Reminded me of the book. I loved that guy when I was a kid. What was his name, Lovecraft? He wrote some crazy crap. Remember the one about that abandoned town? Ironic, isn't it?" As he continued to ramble, Morgana sat up, watching his face become more animated.

"You… read books as a child?" She whispered.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I? I love a freaky story just like everybody else. You think I have no soul?" His eyebrows waggled at her then, so similar to her Dark that her heart jumped in her throat. She took a deep breath and let it out. She was going to have to find a way to get used to that. It would break her to pieces before long.

"It's just that… I read Lovecraft as a girl too." She looked down at her lap, fiddling with her dress. "My favorite was 'The Dreams in the Witch House'."

Negaduck moved closer to her then, his dark eyes shining in the light of the small fire, and he gave a low whistle.

"That one was all kinds of crazy. I think the guy was on something, honestly."

Morgana couldn't help it. She laughed.

"Probably. The same could be said for Lewis Carroll."

"Oh, everybody KNOWS he was on something."

They both chuckled, and Morgana relaxed. Maybe this wasn't as horrible as she imagined. She couldn't remember talking about books with Drake before.

"What kind of freaky kids were we, though, reading that stuff?" He smiled, and for once, his sharp teeth didn't show.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I wasn't a freak. Not in my family. Lovecraft was our bread and butter. I was actually not freaky enough. I mean, I only have two eyes… Nothing weird growing on me. I have skin instead of slime. All of that is…" Morgana stopped when she realized Negaduck was laughing. It was a soft laugh. Then suddenly, she was brave enough to ask him a question or two.

"So, is your real name Drake too?" As soon as she asked it, she held her breath, knowing he could get very defensive about personal stuff.

"Cutting to the chase, are we?" His tone was dark, but she could sense the wall was lowering. He stood up, and she moved back a bit, but all he did was open what looked like a mini fridge. She flinched when he threw something at her. It shone silver, and her hand opened to catch it. It was a cold can of beer. She looked at him questioningly.

"Heh, don't worry Morgana. I'm not trying to get you drunk. I just think we both need to relax a lot more if we're actually going to talk about this stuff, heh?" He sat down across from her, and pulled the tab. It made a very loud rushing noise in the close confines of…wherever they were. She wasn't sure why he'd chosen such a small space to inhabit when he had the whole city, but she'd ask him that another time.

Hours later, Morgana stood on top of one of the highest buildings, watching the sunrise. She had learned a little too much. Darkwing with No Soul was now Drake. A Drake who'd had a childhood. Not much of one, it seemed. Parents that were too busy for him, so he'd run away, living on the streets at a tender age. He'd started a gang with some other kids, and it all sounded very… Oliver Twist. He'd been nonchalant about it, no permanent damage or anything. But it explained why he didn't like to be touched or affectionate. He'd never really needed it. Which… Morgana rolled her eyes now that she was by herself. She knew her Darkwing. He needed attention, craved it. She knew Negaduck was like that too. There had to be at least one person who he wanted to get affection from. He had mentioned Magica De Spell in passing, and had almost opened up to her about another witch, but hadn't been quite drunk enough for that yet.

Still, they'd both managed to clear quite a few subjects before he passed out, snoring. The one thing they both agreed on strongly was that they would find a way to get out of here. Even if they had to work together.