In Danger pt. 1
“Launchpad,” Mrs. Beakley looked calm as she spoke. Her voice betrayed worry, just under the surface. It made his chest go numb. Seven words made that numbness suffocating. “someone got a hold of the retirement list.”
“Do you know who?” Launchpad asked, forcing the same calm she showed.
“Not yet,” Mrs. Beakley said. “Be careful.”
“I will be Mrs. B.”
Launchpad worked quietly on the limo. Though his mind wasn't on the work. It was on the retirement list.
That list contained the names of every past SHUSH agent. Including Mrs. Beakley and himself. Most of them had addresses as well. So SHUSH could keep tabs on their past agents as well as contact them if they were needed. Only a few were omitted, like his. And that was only because his husband was a SHUSH consultant.
But that also meant Director Hooter might put Drake on the case. If he did and the thief recognized Launchpad from the reports… That could put his family in danger. Even if Drake wasn't put on the case his family could be in danger. All thanks to a list and a secret past. Launchpad let the hood slam shut.
He wiped the grease from his hands on a blue rag long ago stained grey. Seven years of retirement. Five years of having a family. All so close to going down the drain like the grease did now as he washed up, because someone had actually managed to steal a few files. Because that’s what it was. Files kept in J. Gander Hooter’s office. Where they were supposed to be safe.
Launchpad bit back a cry of frustration. Sure, he’d been a good agent. There were a few rumors about him, there had to be, he saw the way agents- old and even some new recruits- looked at him. Especially that first day Drake had unwittingly dragged him back to SHUSH headquarters. But he’d never exactly been top-tier like Mrs. Beakley. Or agent Star. The chance the thief would come after him, come after his family, was small. Not as small as he’d like. But small.
As long as Darkwing wasn’t put on the case.
“Darkwing! I’m glad you could make it,” J. Gander Hooter said cheerily and Launchpad fought a glare. If Darkwing saw him outright glare at SHUSH’s director, he might have questions. Questions he couldn’t answer. Not without breaking the contract he’d signed when he left. The one that every ex agent signed, saying that they wouldn’t tell anyone about the organization or their part in it. Not that Director Hooter likely cared about it, since he was likely about to put them on the case for the missing list. Which put his secret in danger of being discovered. “We were hoping you and your husband could handle a particularly delicate case.”
“Delicate is my middle name!” Darkwing said.
“Right,” Director Hooter met Launchpad’s eyes. Almost like he was asking him to make sure Darkwing kept this delicate. Like he hadn’t already trusted him with plenty of SHUSH missions. Launchpad narrowed his eyes and Director Hooter looked away. “Well. A few days ago a list of our retired agents got stolen. We can’t put any other agents on this for their safety as well as the continued safety of past agents, so I’m asking you to bring it back. And trusting you won’t take a peek.”
Darkwing rocked back on his heels as he thought. “Where’s the crime scene?”
Hooter stood up from his chair. He walked around his desk, coming to the front of it and gesturing around him. “It’s this office.”
“You mean it was stolen right from under you?” Darkwing asked, his eyebrows lowering as he looked behind him to Launchpad to be sure he’d heard that correctly.
“Sure sounds like it, DW,” Launchpad said.
“It happened after hours,” Hooter said. “And I can assure you it was kept perfectly safe in a lockbox.”
“Except someone got into it.”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t you have any cameras in this place?” Darkwing asked.
“I do,” Hooter said firmly. Frowning like Darkwing had insulted his intelligence. Perhaps he had. His shoulders drooped a bit, though. “They were all wiped. Every one in this room and leading to it. Ten minutes of footage is missing.”
Darkwing hummed, eyebrows pulling at his mask as they went high. “So a mysterious moonlighter sabotaged the cameras, came in here, and made off with the list?”
“That is correct, Darkwing,” Hooter said.
“And who would want a list of SHUSH’s ex agents.” Darkwing had a hand against his chin as he stalked through the office.
“That's just the thing, Darkwing. There are plenty of vile creatures who'd want this list. With your detective skills, you're the best person to get it back. So will you take the job?”
“You can count on me, Hooter baby,” Darkwing said. A file dropped from his hand, back to Hooter’s desk. It landed with a heavy smack and the pens in their holder clattered. He looked up to see Launchpad, arms crossed and looking at Hooter with a serious edge Darkwing rarely saw. “Us. You can count on us.” The emphasis Darkwing placed seemed to catch Launchpad’s attention. His husband looked over at him and a half smile curved the side of his beak. Though it looked a bit forced. For some reason Launchpad seemed worried about this case. It must be the importance of it getting to him. “We'll get that list back to you!”
“I sure hope so,” Hooter said. “We've already had one ex agent sent back to us.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Hooter opened a drawer in his desk. With a clink he placed a can on it. The label said it was tuna. “Meet agent Campbell.”
“Euh,” Darkwing made a disgusted sound, his beak curling up.
“He worked in a fish canning place during retirement.”
“I've heard of getting canned on the job,” Darkwing said, poking at the tin. “But this is ridiculous.”
“Quite so,” Hooter agreed. “But it shows our urgency. We need that list back as soon as you can manage, Darkwing.” Hooter looked up and past the superhero. “Launchpad.”
It was the first time in five years Director Hooter had directly acknowledged him. Director Hooter saying his name surprised him so much, Launchpad straightened up to his full height. An instinct long learned. Apparently seven years hadn't removed it. “Will do.”
“Thank you.” Director Hooter nodded. “Now I'm trusting you two in here while I go check on a few things. I hope it'll give you enough time to get what you need.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Darkwing waved a hand. He already had his magnifying glass out, searching the room for clues. Director Hooter sighed and glanced at Launchpad once more before he left the room.
“So if I were the director of a secret spy organization and I had a list of every retired agent, where would I put it…” Darkwing mused out loud as he searched. Launchpad simply looked behind Director Hooter’s desk. None of the agents, old or new, were supposed to know where the list was hidden. But any who spent enough time at SHUSH and around the director would likely be able to find it. The man was smart. But he was predictable. He had habits and instincts that were easy to learn. Most of the agents Launchpad had worked with assumed that was why Director Hooter was the director and never an agent.
Eventually Darkwing looked at him and followed his line of sight to the painting of Director Hooter that hung behind his desk. “A-HA!” When Darkwing pulled at the frame, it swung open like a door. There was a safe behind it. Immediately Darkwing got out a listening device that he stuck to the metal door. “I, Darkwing Duck, have found the safe that once contained valuable SHUSH papers.”
A minute of silence ended with a click and the safe’s door swinging open.
“Yep yep yep, there we have it,” Darkwing tucked the listening device back into his jacket before actually looking in the safe. It was metal and a bit dirty and very empty. He ran a finger through a film of dust on the one wall. “When's the last time he cleaned this out,” he muttered.
There were no papers- of course, that's why Darkwing was here after all- but the safe wasn't as empty as it first looked. In the far corner was a white feather. It was small, like it'd come from a pinky finger. Darkwing picked it up gently. “The discerning detective picks up the first clue of the case.” He held it to the light, twirling it slowly this way and that between his thumb and forefinger. “The thief was a bird. A quick analysis back at the tower should show us what kind. Launchpad?”
There was a brief interlude of silence. Darkwing looked over at his partner to see his eyes weren't even on him. Instead they were trained high on the wall. A singular camera was mounted there. Small enough that it'd go unnoticed unless someone purposely sought it out. Or one happened to look up at just the right angle. On their second trip here Darkwing had noticed it. But only because Launchpad had noticed first.
His partner was already at the wall, messing with the camera. For a few seconds Darkwing just watched. Hooter had said the tapes had been tampered with. But he'd been too busy with the safe to remember the camera. (Of course he would've remembered eventually!)
Darkwing jumped up on Hooter’s desk so he could see better, sending a stapler clattering to the ground. After a few more seconds a small drive popped out of the camera. For a second Launchpad just kinda stared at it. It made Darkwing frown and he cleared his throat. Launchpad blinked. He looked back at Darkwing for a second before handing him the drive.
“Good job, sidekick!” Darkwing smiled at him. He tucked the drive in an inside pocket on his jacket. They’d have to get the others on their way out. Maybe he could figure out how they were wiped with his computer. “Let’s grab the others and get back to the hideout.”
Back at the hideout Darkwing plugged the camera drives into his computer. It was just as Hooter said. Ten minutes of missing footage. But it wasn’t like Darkwing thought. Each drive wasn’t missing ten minutes. It was ten minutes total. A minute from the camera at the entrance. Two each from both cameras leading to the office. Five from the office. Somehow the thief got both in and out in that short amount of time.
“But how did he get out?” Darkwing mumbled to himself, checking the tapes again. Five minutes wasn’t a lot of time to traverse the whole SHUSH building twice. Maybe once, if they knew the layout. But not twice.
Launchpad tapped him on the shoulder. There was a little black drive in his hand. Identical to the drives they'd gotten from the cameras.
“Launchpad!” Darkwing snatched it from him and plugged it into the computer. Once it connected, it showed the outside. “Where'd you get this?”
“I noticed a camera outside Hooter’s window ‘fore we left,” Launchpad said. There was a hint of awkwardness in his voice and Darkwing narrowed his eyes. But there was no reason for that. None that Darkwing could think of. Maybe he felt bad for them borrowing the tapes without asking Hooter first. Darkwing shrugged and turned back to the computer.
“So he must've jumped out the window,” Darkwing said. It wasn’t a very far jump. Just three stories. He'd made far larger jumps throughout his years as a superhero. Looking through it, the drive only had a minute wiped. Bringing the total to eleven. Five to get in, five to steal the document, and one to get out. All subtracted by the ten to fifteen seconds it would've taken to erase the tapes. From the time stamps, the outside tape was erased immediately just like the others as well. Meaning they'd known it was there. Which for him only held one meaning. “It has to be an agent. Or maybe an ex agent.”
“What?” Launchpad asked and looked over Darkwing’s shoulder to check the tapes. He sounded surprised. Which Darkwing expected him to be. But there was almost something… more. More surprise. More… intensity. There wasn’t really time to parse that now. It went into the ‘box of weird’ that Drake had been slowly gathering over the years. The box in his mind that encompassed Launchpad McQuack.
Darkwing tapped the screen. “The quickness in moving through the building without anyone seeing them, knowing the exact locations of the cameras that would see them. Doing one, that’s luck. But doing both? They’ve been at SHUSH headquarters, or at least to Hooter’s office, enough to get a layout of the place.”
He turned in his chair to Launchpad, who was staring at the screen instead of at him. Launchpad’s brow was lowered and his tongue stuck out in thought. Eyes roving the screen as the video looped back around. Eventually his partner looked at him. “You really think it's an agent, DW?”
“Or an ex one. No one else would've been to Hooter's office enough to know that information.”
“Maybe a janitor?” Launchpad offered, looking at him.
Darkwing rolled his eyes. “Be serious, would ya? What would a janitor want with a list of ex agents, anyway?”
“Maybe one of ‘em left a really big mess.”
For the next two days Drake worked. Studying the tapes to see if the wipe left anything behind. Finding out what kind of bird left the feather. Trying to nab a list of agents-old and new- that were a white feathered duck. The secret crawled up Launchpad’s throat the whole time. Worse than it had since that first year he spent with Drake. “You can’t tell them,” Mrs. Beakley said one day.
“I know,” Launchpad unintentionally snapped back, making Mrs. Beakley give a displeased look. He took a breath, eyes closed. Feeling terrible for responding to his friend like that. “Sorry Mrs. B. It's just…” Launchpad struggled to find the word. SHUSH didn’t allow it. Even if they did, knowing could potentially put his family at risk. If Drake or Gosalyn got hurt because of him Launchpad didn't know what he'd do. Plus, Darkwing had enough enemies of his own. He didn’t need to deal with demons Launchpad thought he’d left in the past. Mrs. Beakley put a hand on his arm.
“Difficult?” she supplied.
“Yeah.” Launchpad laughed, but there was little humour in it. “DW thinks it’s an agent. He's tryin’ to get Hooter to give him a list so he can figure out who.”
“Well he has my luck,” Mrs. Beakley said. “But I doubt he'll ever get it. What makes him think it was an agent?”
“The tape outside Gander’s window was wiped immediately.”
Mrs. Beakley frowned and hummed. Then she went silent, eyes looking away. Likely going through her own list. “It's unlikely to be agent initiation.”
Launchpad nodded, agreeing with her. Every year old agents convinced the new ones to prank Director Hooter. He still remembered his own initiation. ‘You're not a real agent until you prank the Director, young blood.’ But they'd never take the list. It was off-limits no matter what. Only Director Hooter even touched it.
Until now. Launchpad had a bad feeling about Drake being right.
“What about Black Heron?” Mrs. Beakley asked. Black Heron was an agent back with Mrs. Beakley. They'd dated before Black Heron went rogue. Though Launchpad didn't know too much about that. It'd happened before he'd even heard of SHUSH.
“He found a white feather. Duck,” Launchpad said.
Mrs. Beakley frowned deeper at that. Eyebrows low and expression bordering angry. Launchpad worried she'd had the same thought as him. But she didn't say anything more. And Dewey came into the room before he could ask.
Darkwing’s unable to get any list from Director Hooter. But he has a trail, has an idea, and he’s stubborn. It takes him two days of being at SHUSH for hours but he takes a look at all the active agents currently in St. Canard-Duckburg. In that time one more agent gets sent back. She’s in an icicle when she does. There’s six white ducks currently in St. Canard and three in Duckburg. He gets a feather from each. While he’s testing them for a match to the feather he’d found, he receives a call. He got up with an annoyed sigh. Of course someone would call now, while he was busy. The number on the caller id wasn’t one he recognized. He picked it up.
“Darkwing Duck?” A British accent answered quietly. He was surprised to find he actually recognized it. It was the woman Launchpad spoke to over the phone sometimes. The one who’d gotten him the job with Scrooge. Why would she call him?
“This is him,” Darkwing answered.
“Your man is here,” she said. Darkwing blinked.
“What?” Darkwing asked.
“The person who stole the list,” she answered calmly. “He’s here.” There was certainty in her voice. It made Darkwing’s head spin. So many questions circling through his brain like laundry in the spin cycle. But he only asked one.
“Where are you?”
Blue smoke billowed and dispersed. Two figures stood in its midst. There were already two people in the room when Darkwing and Launchpad got there. Both of them paused in their fight when the cloud of smoke appeared. Darkwing couldn’t make them out. Only that they were the same size. “I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the shoelace that refuses to be tied. I am Darkwing Duck!”
The cloud broke fully and the one figure ran. The other brushed herself off.
“It's about time you got here, Darkwing,” she said. It was the British woman from the phone. Which also meant it was Launchpad’s friend. ‘Mrs. B’.
“Are you alright, Mrs. B?” Launchpad asked.
“How’d you get my hideout’s number?” Darkwing asked, arms crossed over his chest as he eyed her suspiciously. “And how’d you know I’m after a thief?”
Mrs. B raised an eyebrow. “SHUSH keeps me informed. And I’m fine, thank you. He barely touched me before you two showed up.”
“So you’re an agent?” Darkwing asked.
“Ex,” Mrs. Beakley said, sharing a look with Launchpad. Her cover was blown anyway. It was obvious, since the man who stole the list came after her. But his wasn't. Launchpad looked away first.
Darkwing narrowed his eyes at her. “Why would SHUSH keep an ex agent so in the loop?”
“Easy. I'm their second highest agent,” she said. “Passed only by the man who tried to attack me. Agent Star.” Darkwing spluttered, eyes going wide.
“D- Derek Blunt!” He shook his head. “No. No way the Derek Blunt’s the one who stole the list! He’s the greatest SHUSH agent that’s ever been, why would he betray them like this?” His eyes narrowed. “Unless, you’re the one who stole the list. And you were after Blunt and now you’re trying to throw us off your trail!”
“DW!” Launchpad gasped. “Mrs. B isn’t-”
Mrs. Beakley held up a hand to cut him off. “It’s alright Launchpad. It’s rather hard to accept that your heroes aren’t always the heroes you want them to be.”
“I don’t know what you mean by that,” Darkwing said. “Blunt’s exactly who I know him to be. A great, trustworthy agent! But this is the first I've ever heard of you being an agent. You're trying to trick is. But we won't fall for it, right LP?” He looked over at Launchpad, confidence oozing from every pore. But his partner kept looking between him and the now-enemy. Uncertain and wavering. Like a light his confidence dimmed. His face fell slightly. “LP?”
Launchpad shrugged helplessly. “I trust her.”
“She’s a white duck, Launchpad,” Darkwing insisted, gesturing to her. “Just like the one we’re looking for.”
His partner looked at him desperately. But Darkwing refused to be swayed. Launchpad didn't know Blunt like he did. Growing up he'd read every book, seen every move. They helped him through some tough times. Inspired him to be a superhero. Blunt wasn't the thief.
He couldn't be.
“It was her. And I'll prove it.”
Ice staked into Launchpad’s heart. “What do you mean?/What are you going to do?”
“What else? I’m going to find Blunt,” Darkwing said, turning on his heel to run out the door.
Launchpad stood frozen as Darkwing walked back to Mr. McDee’s garage. It wasn’t Mrs. Beakley, he knew that. But maybe… maybe she only thought she saw Blunt. Maybe she’d been wrong. Though in the seventeen years he’d known her she’d seldom been wrong. Especially when it came to stuff she saw. She’d trained herself to have a photograph memory. But who knew. Maybe this would be one of those times she was wrong.
He really hoped she was wrong.
“You should go with him,” Mrs. Beakley said. “He won’t be able to take Star by himself.”
Launchpad nodded absently.
“And do be careful, Launchpad,” she said before he could follow Darkwing. “Blunt is capable of many things and willing to do them all if it’ll secure his place at the top.”
He nodded again, then ran off to catch Darkwing.
Launchpad stumbled into the hideout. The tunnel ride from behind his Flying McQuack’s poster in the garage didn't go as smooth as it usually did. Darkwing was still in the tower when he got there. One of Blunt’s novels in his hand and another three on the desk next to him.
“What are you doing?” Launchpad said casually.
“Research,” Darkwing answered without looking at him. “I thought you would've stayed with Mrs. B.”
He frowned at Darkwing briefly. Then he gave a half smile. “Of course not. I have a superhero to help. I'm his sidekick after all.”
Darkwing closed the book with a sigh, leaving his thumb in it as a bookmarker. “You don't agree with me, that Blunt’s innocent.”
“I don't,” Launchpad agreed.
“Why? Why do you trust her so much?” Darkwing asked. He looked over at Launchpad with a frown.
Here, Launchpad faltered. There were so many answers he had. He cycled through a number of them. So many thay could or would reveal his past. It'd be so easy. One sentence.
‘She's why I became a SHUSH agent.’
‘We were partners when I first started.’
‘There were multiple SHUSH missions I wouldn't of come back from without her.’
“She's been a really good friend to me for years and has always had my back.”
He walked over to where Darkwing sat. All of Drake’s Derek Blunt collection were paperbacks. The one currently on top the pile on the desk was worn with a red cover. ‘Emeralds are Eternal’. Launchpad picked it up and scanned the first page. It started with a scorpion, searching and killing its prey. He put it back down and reached for another. “But I trust you, too. Maybe she was wrong.” Absently Launchpad shrugged. When he looked away from the book, Darkwing was looking at him with a small smile. Like he honestly thought Launchpad didn't trust him anymore. With a frown he set the book down and moved to run a hand through the feathers at Darkwing’s cheek. An action Darkwing always leaned into. Now was no different. “I'll always trust you,” Launchpad said quietly. “Now let's find Blunt.”
Darkwing pulled away with a nod. Then he returned to the book.
As they went through the book collection, looking for any clue as to where Blunt might be, Launchpad looked back over at Darkwing. His husband was pouring over the books. Likely looking between every line. Considering ever named location. It hit Launchpad again like electricity. How much he wanted to tell him everything. The secret crawled up his throat. Words that wanted- needed- so badly to be said. But he swallowed them down. Just as he'd done every other time. There was the contract he'd signed. More importantly, there was the danger with it. Before the danger had always been a maybe. Maybe someone might recognize him. Maybe his past would come back for him. Maybe it'd kill him. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Not telling them was the only way Launchpad knew to protect them. If they didn't know anything then there was no reason for them to ever be dragged into anything. But that danger wasn’t a maybe anymore. Instead it felt fast approaching, despite how unlikely it was that the killer would attack him. It had been seven years and no one had come for him yet. He’d never been a high enough rank to garner attention.
If it was Blunt, and he saw him, how long would it be before he came to kill him? Back in his SHUSH days Blunt had never paid attention to him. He was tall, scrawny, and new. Not worth a second of his time. But now he was killing ex agents. And not only was Launchpad an ex agent, his husband actively tried to stop him tonight. Which likely put them both on his radar.
It didn’t matter anymore. The secret didn’t matter. The danger was real and present and Drake was involved. Not knowing wouldn’t protect him now. If anything, it’d only blindside him. Especially since if it was Blunt and he was going after all ex agents, he’d only refer to Launchpad as his codename. If he referred to him at all. Which would distract Darkwing. And Blunt wouldn’t hesitate to use that to his advantage.
“Drak-” Launchpad started, but Darkwing stood up quickly. The sound of the chair briefly tilting back before it hit the ground cut him off.
“I know where he is.”
Launchpad anxiously tapped the side of the sidecar. It felt like he was eighteen again, on one of his first training missions. Mrs. Beakley at the wheel. Telling him all he had to do was sit, listen, and watch.
Later in the night they had ended up needing to jump out a fancy two story window. After he’d almost been shot. If Mrs. Beakley hadn’t been there he would’ve been. Instead it just grazed his arm. All he’d needed were a few stitches.
The motorcycle stopped and the engine cut off. Launchpad turned just in time to see Darkwing replace his helmet with his hat, pulling the brim down low. He looked around as Darkwing jumped down. They were parked right at the mouth of an alleyway. Tall apartment buildings were on either side. He took note of the fire escape that crawled up the side of the building to the right. “Ya sure he’s here, DW?”
“Of course I’m sure!” Darkwing said indignantly. “Now are you getting out or am I leaving you here?”
With a nod Launchpad got out. Darkwing turned to the alleyway and walked in. For another minute, Launchpad just stood there and watched him. Since they first got the mission Darkwing was determined to find out who stole the list and bring it back. It was a determination that Darkwing really only consistently showed with two things. Fitting crime and being Gosalyn’s dad. Over the years Darkwing’s also shown that determination toward him. Which never failed to take his breath away.
If it really was Blunt…
He watched as Darkwing examined the windows. Darkwing pointed to each in turn, counting them. It would hurt Darkwing so much if Blunt was the one behind everyone. And Blunt would use that against him. Blunt was SHUSH’s number one agent. Out of everyone else he’d went on and completed the most missions. Most agents didn’t think Blunt even had a place. In the years that both Launchpad and Blunt were agents, he’d barely seen Blunt. The most he saw of him was when Blunt showed up to get a mission. Often returning from one in the same trip. Agent Star was a dangerous man. More dangerous than Darkwing was prepared for.
Launchpad’s chest felt like a drum. Maybe if he just went away for a while. Took care of the problem quietly before Darkwing could. That way he could keep Darkwing and Gosalyn safe. Or he could tell Darkwing. Like Mrs. Beakley said, Darkwing couldn’t take Star on by himself. If he knew what he was up against and they came up with a plan then Launchpad could help take him down. Like this they couldn’t do anything.
“Darkwing,” Launchpad started.
“Yeah?” Darkwing looked back at him. The words got clogged in his throat. They’d been together for so long. Yet sometimes when Darkwing looked at him it felt like when he finally realized he’d fallen for him, all over again. And in all those years he’d never told him. Darkwing will be so upset with him. Understandably. It wasn’t exactly a small secret. Especially with Darkwing working for SHUSH the past three years. If they could just get past the secret to deal with the thief though. Even if Darkwing left him because of it his family would be safe. That’s what mattered.
“I have to-” A loud noise interrupted him. Again.
“You made it very difficult to find you, Double O.” A deep voice came out of the shadows. Behind Darkwing, Launchpad froze. Darkwing tried to figure out where it came from, but the voice had seemed to echo all around them. He wondered if this was how the criminals felt when he showed up.
A man stepped casually from the stairs. Now in the light, Darkwing could tell just who it was. Derek Blunt smiled and there was something cruel in it. “I can’t believe I had you right there and I didn’t even realize it. I guess the theatrics made you harder to recognize.”
Darkwing blinked. Why would Blunt be looking for him? Then he straightened up. Maybe he’d somehow found out that he was on the trail of the list thief and wanted to help him! A team up with his hero. “I was actually looking for you, too!”
Blunt looked Darkwing up and down. “From the stories I thought you would’ve been better than these gadgets,” he said, disgust in his voice.
“Excuse me!” Darkwing exclaimed angrily. “I’ll have you know these are state of the art tools that I made. Inspired by you!”
“Oh lord, don’t tell me he’s a fan of those horrid movies they made based on my books,” Blunt said and Darkwing bristled. Was Blunt talking over him? Like he didn’t exist?!
“Actually I am,” Darkwing said with more of a snap than he ever thought he’d give Derek Blunt.
Now Blunt turned his full attention on him. Darkwing gulped. The look in his eyes was murderous. Almost more deadly than that of Negaduck. Not quite, but closer than Darkwing thought he’d ever see in someone from this universe. When Blunt looked him up and down he realized just how dismissive the first had been. This one was assessing. Like Blunt could see every experience, every flaw, every insecurity. It made his skin crawl and the feathers at the back of his neck stand on end. The movies never prepared him for this.
Did all the top agents have a stare like this?
Blunt took a breath that moved his chest and straightened up. Darkwing looked up. And wow. He wasn't really aware that Blunt was Launchpad’s height. As he watched Blunt adjusted the black gloves he wore. Then, like in slow motion, Blunt ran at him.
Darkwing was too surprised to do anything. Launchpad, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be. He shoved him out of the way just as Blunt passed him. His hands out to grab Darkwing’s throat. Unconsciously Darkwing put a hand at his neck. His hero just tried to kill him. If not for Launchpad, he would've. Which meant…
Which meant Mrs. B was right. Blunt had to be the thief.
There was a grunt as Launchpad hit the asphalt. Above him stood Blunt. Steel gleamed in his hand. It knocked Darkwing out of whatever trance he’d fallen in. Before he registered it, he rushed Blunt. When Darkwing collided with him, Blunt lost balance long enough to send the pocket knife flying. Blunt recovered quickly and Darkwing took a punch to the jaw that had him stumbling back. Then Blunt kneed him in the stomach. Darkwing folded over, briefly retching. When he looked back up, Launchpad and Blunt were grappling for the knife. His eyes widened as the knife sliced across Launchpad’s forearm and his husband didn't even flinch. Didn't falter. Launchpad twisted the knife to stab into Blunt’s shoulder. Blunt punched Launchpad in the side of the head in return before he took the knife from his shoulder and Darkwing scrambled with his gas gun. He shot it toward them and smog covered the alley.
A form broke from the smog. It darted around him and grabbed him around the waist with an arm. Something cold pressed against his throat. He swallowed unconsciously. Launchpad left the smog and froze. He had the pocket knife in his hand which meant the blade currently stabbing into his throat was a different knife.
“Stand down, Double O,” Blunt said and pushed the knife closer. The skin broke.
“I am,” Darkwing shakily replied.
“Shut up,” Blunt growled down at him. “Now.”
Darkwing had a funny feeling the ‘now’ wasn’t for him. His eyes went to Launchpad, who was glaring at them. The look in his eyes was dark. Expression so murderous it sent a chill down Darkwing’s spine. He’d never seen Launchpad look like that. Apparently it didn’t faze Blunt, though. The knife dug further and Darkwing felt a blood trickle down his throat in a line from the point. Launchpad dropped the pocket knife.
“Excellent. Now kick it over here, if you would,” Blunt said.
Launchpad did as he asked. “Give him back,” his voice held none of the warmth Darkwing was accustomed to.
There was silence. Like Blunt was weighing his options, despite Darkwing having a bad feeling he held all the cards in this situation. “Alright. But I’ll be back for you.” Darkwing cried out as the knife sliced into his leg. Blood gushed, pain flooded his brain and buckled his knees. There was a cry of ‘Darkwing’ that floated on the edges of his world. He was shoved forward into something sturdy. Arms came around him. They were gentle as they lifted his body.
For a while Darkwing drifted. Pain danced along his nerves. His stomach, his jaw, his throat, his leg. When it cleared enough for him to think he was able to register being in the Ratcatcher. He looked up to see Launchpad at the well, focused with his beak clenched. The scarf Launchpad always wore was absent. Darkwing looked down to see it tied tightly to his leg. It was blood soaked and closer to his artery than was really comfortable for him. A chuckle left Darkwing. Something tense and a little mad. If Launchpad hadn't been there, he would've bled out.
“Drake?” Launchpad said desperately and Darkwing turned back to see his husband staring at him.
“The road,” Darkwing said. It came out pained. More pained than he expected. His hand came up to the wound at his throat. Nobody he fought with had ever held a knife to his throat before. The hand came back with blood against the feathers. Dark red marring the white. And his throat had never been cut before.
“How do you feel?” Launchpad asked. Darkwing could hear the worry in his voice.
“Peachy,” Darkwing said.
“Drake.” Darkwing looked up to see Launchpad looking down at him again. The desperateness from earlier had gone from his voice to his eyes. Or maybe it’d been in his eyes since Darkwing had been shoved into his arms and only now was he able to register it.
“I'll be fine, LP. I promise.” Darkwing reached up to put a hand on Launchpad’s leg. He watched as his husband took a breath. “Let’s take a day to heal and then we'll tackle Blunt, alright?” The muscle under his hand tensed. He rubbed a thumb over it, hoping to soothe Launchpad. “We'll be prepared next time. Get him before he gets us. Blunt won't know what hit him.”
Launchpad looked over at Darkwing a third time, his mind whirling with what happened tonight. Whenever he blinked it felt like he could see Blunt slash Drake’s leg. Here the pain in his voice as he cried out. Blood gushing down to his toes. ‘Before he gets us.’ But Blunt was only after him. He said he'd come back for him. For Double O, not Darkwing. Blunt wouldn't have missed Drake’s artery if he'd wanted to hit it. The placement was purposeful. Damage Darkwing enough to make Launchpad come alone.
He drove through a red light. After Launchpad fixed Drake up, he had to leave. This was too close already. Launchpad wouldn't lose any of his family because a madman wanted him dead. This was Launchpad’s past. It was his mess to deal with. He'd get the list back. And he'd do whatever he needed to to stop Blunt.
Darkwing’s complaints as it hit him that his hero really had been the thief rolled off Launchpad like water as he made a plan to find Blunt.
Back in the hideout Launchpad picked Darkwing up once again. Darkwing protested. But it was only briefly. He knew as well as Launchpad that he could walk in that moment. Not without pain and the danger of making the wound start bleeding again. So he let himself be carried bridal style to the couch. The second he was comfortable, Launchpad was off to get the medkit.
Darkwing removed his hat and mask, throwing the hat toward its hook. The hat hit the wall and fluttered down. His vision swam when he leaned forward and he paused. Once it passed he slowly removed his coat and turtleneck. Then he let himself sink back into the couch.
Soon after Launchpad was back. His husband sat next to him and placed his injured leg into his lap to work on it. “Take these,” Launchpad handed him two of the stronger painkillers and a water. The water tasted off when he drank. He brushed it off. Most likely the water knocked some blood loose in his mouth.
Launchpad was gentle as he removed the scarf from around his thigh. Darkwing’s eyes widened when he saw the wound. It looked about five inches long and two inches deep. And it was only an inch from the artery. A line drawn right next to the vein. Like the wound had actually been calculated and not on the spot. From the books he knew Blunt was very capable with on the fly decisions. It was one of the things he'd always loved when he read the books. One of the things he trained himself to be. But right now, the sight one of those decisions made his stomach curdle. It had been a while since he'd been so close to death. And that wound was very obviously not meant to kill. It had to be a warning. He’d gotten too close. Blunt was on the run and desperate! As soon as he could step on his leg they’d find Blunt again and get the list back.
As Launchpad stitched up his leg, Darkwing let his brain wander. The painkillers seemed to work better than he remembered. There was barely any pain or feeling as his skin was pinched together and a needle drove through it. Apparently when Launchpad left to get the medkit, he’d also taken his jacket off. Now Darkwing could clearly see the cut his husband got earlier. It wasn’t the scratch he’d thought it was. The wound ran from his shoulder down to his elbow, a gash that had to be an inch deep. There were also red spots Darkwing could see peeking above his collar. Bruises that would be dark blues and purples tomorrow.
“Launchpad,” Darkwing carefully ran his fingers along next to the gash. “you need stitches.”
Launchpad took his hand and moved it away from his arm. “You first.”
“Let me stitch you up,” Darkwing said. Something flickered in Launchpad’s eyes, but he nodded.
“Alright. After I finish, you can take care of my stitches,” Launchpad said.
Satisfied with that Darkwing let himself drift on the sea of painkillers as Launchpad took care of his one wound. When Darkwing heard the scissors snip the thread he focused back in. Launchpad handed him a clean needle and thread before adjusting himself on the couch to let Darkwing reach the gash. He went slow. His brain felt fuzzy and he didn’t want to hurt Launchpad. Once he finished Launchpad put the thread and needle away. Then he moved to take care of the rest of Darkwing’s wounds. Gently cleaning away the blood and putting a bandage on Darkwing’s throat. After he was done he closed the kit and left to put it back. Darkwing yawned and closed his eyes. Sleep dancing around his mind. Not long after a kiss against his forehead made him open his eyes. He smiled groggily and opened his beak to tell Launchpad he wasn’t asleep and ask him to help him to their bed.
But the words died in his throat.
Launchpad had his jacket back on. His back was turned to him, but not in the direction of the chair to home. In the direction of the vehicles. Darkwing put a hand on his arm to stop him. And Launchpad flinched. “Where are you going?”
Launchpad gently pulled away. He looked back at him without saying anything for a minute. “I'm gonna find Blunt. Alone.”
“What?” Darkwing stared at him. They’d barely made it out earlier. Now Launchpad wanted to go out again? Alone?
“Don’t follow me,” Launchpad said. He looked at him and Darkwing blinked in surprise at the serious look there. “I mean it, Drake.”
“Are you- leaving?” Darkwing asked. He swallowed, worried. Gosalyn would be devastated if Launchpad just left them without saying anything. It dawned on him that he’d been so close to sleep. And Launchpad was leaving then. Those painkillers didn’t even usually make him that groggy. But the water had tasted funny. Anger flared up his veins. Every wound he gained pounded. A song that seemed to intensify the anger with the reminder they lost. Launchpad hadn’t planned to tell him either. He drugged him so he could sneak away. “You drugged me. You drugged me so you could walk out without feeling guilty. I-” Darkwing crossed his arms over his chest angrily. “I tried to pull away from this family a long time ago and you stopped me. So why would you run out on us now?”
“I don't mean-” Launchpad floundered. “I'm not safe for you guys. I thought enough time had passed, I thought it'd be okay, but it isn't. I’ll be back, but I have to put a stop to Blunt first.”
‘I’ll be back’. Launchpad put emphasis on those words and they gave Darkwing air he hadn’t realized he’d lost. His husband wasn’t leaving them. But everything else he said tasted like smog. A suspicious ring sang through it. Darkwing hated it. He frowned at Launchpad. “What isn't? The SHUSH thing that happened? Launchpad, that had nothing to do with you.”
“You don't understand!” Launchpad snapped, something he never did, with something desperate in his voice. “I'm not safe for you and Gosalyn right now.”
“Not safe?” Drake laughed slightly, not really understanding. “Launchpad, I fight crime for a living and you’re a pilot. You’re probably the safest part of our life. Sure you crash sometimes, but they’re always safe.”
Launchpad’s face scrunched up. Drake took Launchpad’s hand, wanting to comfort him, but Launchpad softly pulled away. Eventually Launchpad spoke. “Derek wasn’t after you.” His tone was even, voice barely above a whisper.
“What?” Drake asked. Four quiet words and Darkwing felt terribly off kilter.
“Derek Blunt.” Launchpad finally looked at him and his eyes were glassy. “He wasn’t after you.”
“What do you mean?” Drake frowned. “Of course he was. He was after SHUSH.”
His husband smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “He was after retired agents.”
Slowly Drake felt his insides drop. They numbed with a cold he didn't feel on his skin. “He called you ‘Double O’.” Launchpad didn't say anything. Only closed his eyes with a short nod. “So, what, you're a retired spy or something?”
Launchpad lowered his eyes. “I retired about two years before we met.”
Darkwing blinked at him. Some things suddenly painted in a new colour. “That's a hell of a secret to keep, LP!”
“I’m sorry,” Launchpad said. It looked like his heart was breaking. “Agents are required to sign a contract before leaving that they won’t tell anyone. And even if I could I couldn't bare to see you or Gos hurt ‘cause of my past.”
Darkwing isn't as angry as he thought he'd be. He, he gets it. The whole necessary secret identity thing. Honestly, he wished he didn't. It'd be a lot easier to just be mad at Launchpad for keeping this from him. But he can't. Because no matter how much he doesn't want to, he understands. Even if his hackles raise at Launchpad being worried about him getting hurt. He's been through a lot, thank you very much.
“Alright,” he says, eventually.
“Alright?” Launchpad repeated. He'd expected more than that. Anger, mostly.
“I don't- I'm not-” Darkwing annoyedly realized he couldn't come up with the perfect words to get across just what he wanted to get across. It was difficult since he didn't actually know what it was he wanted to get across. He huffed.
“Drake?” Launchpad asked.
“Shut up.” Darkwing held up a hand. “Just let me think.” His brain was groggy with whatever drugs Launchpad had given him and he fought against it. Eventually, he sighed. Words finally formed in his brain. Though they weren't exactly what he wanted. He looked up at Launchpad. “I spent a lot of time as just Darkwing. I had no secret identity. Darkwing was it. It was everything I had, everything I was. Until Gosalyn and you came into my life. I’ve only been Drake for a few years and it was weird the first two but I had to to protect you both and you helped me a lot with that so… I get it.”
Slowly, Launchpad smiled. All the worry he’d felt at how Darkwing would react leaving his body. He stepped back to place a chaste kiss on Darkwing’s beak. Before he could pull fully away, Darkwing grabbed his hand.
“We're a family, Launchpad. We've fought through so much together. Let me fight this with you, too,” Darkwing pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” Launchpad said even as his heart clenched. “I can’t.”
Darkwing’s hand fell as Launchpad pulled his away. The cloud over his brain felt like it thickened. He forced his eyes to remain open. He tried to say something. Tried to demand Launchpad to stay. To wait for him. But it seemed like that conversation took all the energy he had. As Launchpad walked away his eyes slid closed. Launchpad’s ‘I love you’ ringing in his ears just above the roar of Launchpad’s motorcycle.