“You May Be Right”

A Darkwing Duck Story

By Draca

This story is dedicated to Dawn Powell, my good friend and a wonderful person, who was the beta reader for me on this fan fic. You would not be reading this story without her help----it would still be stuck in the recesses of my computer hard drive, waiting to be fixed. She helped me make it what I wanted it to be, and I couldn’t have done it without her. I am grateful. Oh, and she wrote two of the cooler angst-y paragraphs, which was a huge help. Thanks, Dawn. J

And a special thanks to Miss T, my 12^th-grade Physics teacher, who came up with the phrase, “Don’t be a goof.” I love that. It’s very Negaduck-ish. Miss T is a great teacher and someday, I gotta base a book character after her. She’s that kind of neat person to write about. J Thanks, Miss T; miss ya lots.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Friday night you crashed my party, Saturday I said I’m sorry,

Sunday came and trashed you out again.

I was getting justice done, But you’re hurting everyone;

Can’t we all enjoy the weekend for a change?

I’ve been stranded in this combat zone, I walked through St. Canard alone;

Even rode my motorcycle in the rain.

And you told me not to try, But I made it back alive,

So you said that only proves that I’m insane.

You may be right, I may be crazy.

But I just may be the lunatic you’re looking for.

Turn out the lights,

Don’t try to save me.

You may be wrong, for all I know, but you may be right.

                                    ----Adapted from Billy Joel’s song “You May Be Right”

“The Daring Darkwing Duck, otherwise known as the Mighty Masked Mallard, sighs contentedly and leans against the cold concrete window frame of his Tower, looking out with his eagle eyes for any sign of wrong-doing, any sight of evil. Watching the great view of his city, St. Canard. It’s so big, so bright, so beautiful . . .

“. . . So boring!”

All right, who was I kidding?  It was boring!  For the simple reason that there was no crime to be found, and hadn’t been for a long time. Too long. I sighed again and pushed away from the window, crossing across the room and climbing to the top of the computer platform. Even though the huge screen was blank of any ominous blips, I sat down and began fiddling with the keyboard, trying to dig a bit deeper in my never-ending search for a crime. A crime. Some crime. Any crime at all.

Launchpad wandered up behind me and watched for a few moments. At last he said, “Well, I, ah, I finished changin’ the oil in the Thunderquack and the Ratcatcher. Feel like jumpin’ into the old TQ for a quick patrol of the city?”

“What for?” I groaned gloomily. “There’s not a single crime being committed in this entire CITY!”

“Eh,” Launchpad paused a moment. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

I looked at him as if he had asked if cars really did drive on the road. “Launchpad, Launchpad, Launchpad. If there are no crimes, what dextrous deeds can Darkwing Duck do for our district?  He’s, he’s, worthless!”

“But,” started Launchpad, looking confused. “D.W., doesn’t, ah, I just mean that . . .”

“Forget it, L.P.” I finished, feeling more miserable than before. “All I know is, if something doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to have to----”

Suddenly the computer screen began to BLIP alarmingly as red flashes lit the screen. But our attention was drawn to the sound of a muffled explosion coming from the city.

“Hooray!  A *crime*!  Our first major crime in four and a half weeks!----32 days, to be exact!” I cried, racing towards the window to survey the scene.

Launchpad could only shake his head and follow.

I screeched to a halt at the window, with Launchpad running into me from behind. I let out an *oof* as the pilot collided with my back and rammed my stomach into the ledge, knocking the wind from my lungs. “Gah . . . nice going, L.P.,” I muttered when I could speak. Straightening up, I gingerly leaned out over the window ledge, trying to keep my bruised stomach from coming in contact with the stone again.

What I saw made me forget my internal injuries. All my attention streamed towards the smoke and flying debris coming from what was once one of St. Canard’s most prominent skyscrapers.

In case I could have made any mistake about who was responsible for the wreckage, one of the computer screens suddenly blinked and Negaduck’s vicious face appeared on the screen.

“Sorry to interrupt your program, kiddies, but I’ve got some news for ya. It’s been a little boring around here lately, so I’ve decided to lay waste to St. Canard. Just wanted to let you all know.” Negaduck paused to erupt into malicious laughter before finishing with, “Oh, and Darkwing Dork?  Stay out of my way this time. I’d hate to have to get really *nasty*! . . .  We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.” The screen flashed and then resumed to a rerun of “Pelican’s Island”.

“Ooh, this is the episode where Pelican dices up the fat guy!  Fenton loves this episode!” Launchpad cried excitedly, moving towards the computer.

“I just bet he does,” I muttered, before reaching out to grab Launchpad by the shoulder. “Launchpad!  In case you have forgotten, Negaduck is blowing up the CITY!”

“Oh, oh yeah, that,” sighed Launchpad. “Alright, guess I can just watch the tape later.”

“You tape ‘Pelican’s Island’?” I asked in amazement as we rushed out to the Thunderquack.

“Sure!  It’s my favorite show!” Launchpad enthused.

“Er, right. Sure. Whatever. Never mind that now. Launchpad----Let’s Get DANGEROUS!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So, where do you think we can find Negaduck, D.W.?” asked Launchpad as we raced over St. Canard in the Thunderquack. And as usual, my faithful ol’ sidekick was performing his aerial acrobatics. We had eaten earlier at Hamburger Hippo and I was doing my best to keep my hamburger and large order of fries from reappearing all over the Thunderquack’s interior as we did roll after roll, but it wasn’t working out very well.

I shook off my motion-sickness-induced haze and looked around the city. “I’m not sure; it looks like he’s just randomly destroying buildings. He’s even going from one side of town to the other to do it!  There’s no order!”

Suddenly there was a great booming tremor that seemed to vibrate the very ground. We could feel the after-effects of the blast even from our position. I whirled around and pressed my face against the window on my side of the Thunderquack, watching as an old warehouse near the Bay was blown apart and came crashing down on itself in a fiery haze.

“Found him,” I managed weakly. “Launchpad, to the Bay!”

Moments later Launchpad was hovering near the burning remains of the warehouse. He turned to look at me expectedly.

“Negaduck won’t stay here; he doesn’t want to do anything but demolish property. If he’s even still here----“

As if in answer to my unspoken question, Negaduck suddenly appeared into view. He had been behind another warehouse close by, probably checking to make sure his handiwork wasn’t disturbed. Even at our distance, I could see his beak curving into a smile as he watched the wooden structure slowly burn away. He gave an almost imperceptible nod, then disappeared behind the building. A moment later he re-emerged on his motorcycle, its yellow, red, and black colors gleaming sharply in the firelight.

As he pulled the bike up on its back wheel, his profile was framed by the glow of the burning wreckage. Then, with what looked to be a great, maniacal howl of laughter, he spun the wheels of the bike and shot off into the night.

“Follow him, L.P.!” I cried. “Who knows what he’ll wipe out next!”

“Righty-o, D.W.!” answered Launchpad, his face drawn in determination. My faithful sidekick, I found myself thinking with a grin. He wants to do away with these conniving criminals as much as I do.

We followed closely behind Negaduck, who was zipping through the streets into town. He seemed to be turning corners at whim, with no apparent direction or motive.

“He’s heading for the center of town!” I said, watching him worriedly. “What if he destroys a building with people still in it?”

“Aw, don’t worry, D.W., we’ll get there in time and you’ll stop him. That’s what you do!” Launchpad reassured me. “You always come out on top.”

“I hope so,” I murmured, “For everyone’s sake.”

Luckily for the citizens of St. Canard and my nerves, once he got to the center of town, he kept on going and was now heading away from it. I felt a little better, but still had a creepy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Where was he going?

Negaduck abruptly screeched to a stop just on the outskirts of town, right before the road that led over the Audubon Bay Bridge. He wheeled to a stop, then replaced his helmet with his large-brimmed red fedora . . . so much like mine that I shuttered. He straightened his jacket, then leapt out of his bike and dashed into a building.

“Take her down, hurry!” I cried. “He went right into the Dehooney Museum of St. Canard’s Art and Artifacts! Who knows what he could destroy down there!”

The Dehooney Art Museum was a privately owned collection of art open for the public. The owner, Nicholas Dehooney, may have been old and rich, but he wasn’t stingy. He had set up the small building full of art and artifacts for the public to enjoy, no matter what their age or financial situation. Set on the outskirts of St. Canard, the Museum was easily accessible to citizen and visitor alike, and despite it’s small size, was one of the places our city was proudest of. It was a symbol of every individual’s right to enjoy culture.

Negaduck obviously hated it.

The Thunderquack landed gently a few feet away from Negaduck’s bike. I straightened my own jacket, then felt another chill as I realized how similar the gesture was to Negaduck’s. I shook the feeling off and turned to my sidekick again. 

“Launchpad, you stay here in case he tries to get away!” I ordered as I pressed the button to open the Thunderquack’s hatch. A moment later I slid to the ground and was surveying the area for any sign of Negaduck. Who knew when he’d finish preparing the next bomb?

There was no sight of him so I squared my shoulders and headed towards the building. Negaduck had already taken the courtesy of blasting the door open for me, so getting inside was no problem. Three unconscious guards lay in a heap right inside the building; more evidence of my arch enemy being about.

I tiptoed past the guards and walked farther into the long, hall-like entranceway. It was basically a Victorian-style mansion house, with a long foyer full of paintings, and the different doors leading to rooms containing different works of art and artifact. Upstairs was an area off-limits to the public; it was assumed that other pieces were kept up there for future display, as the museum often changed exhibits.

Negaduck had taken a knife or some other sharp object across everything he had passed, so it wasn’t hard to pick up his trail. Deep score marks were going through the paintings on the wall, but stopped near the stairway. The sign that usually rested on the third step, reading “Maintenance only, Please” had been spray-painted to read “Negaduck only, you Knobs!” before being hacked in half and kicked aside. As I climbed the grand staircase I found myself gritting my teeth as the damage that had been done to the handrail filled my eyes. The house itself was an antique; the staircase had been beautiful but was now ruined beyond repair. Why did that erroneous executor of evil have to eradicate everything expressive?  Everything with culture and meaning?  Why did he hate so much, anyway?

I reached the top of the stairs and paused. I had found a long hallway lined with several doors. It was easy to see where Negaduck had gone, however; there were chunks torn from the antique Oriental carpet, and they lead to a door that had been hacked into. Its doorknob had been broken away completely and was now laying on the floor. I headed towards the door and stopped.

“Wait a minute!” I hissed to myself. “It looks more like Negaduck is deliberately leaving me a trail to follow!  This is probably a trap!”

I hesitated a moment longer, then shook my head almost ruefully. Trap or no, I had to stop him. This was my town, my home, and no two-timing terrorist was going to trap Darkwing Duck and take it over.

I had a city to protect.

Pulling out my gas gun, I carefully edged to the door and slowly pushed it open a crack. There was nothing to see but darkness.

Drawing in another breath, I pushed it open further and stuck my head inside.

Boxes. The room was full of boxes of every size imaginable. There were shelves on either side of the room, filled with books, artifacts, and more boxes. The entire room had a closed-off, musty, dusty feeling to it.

Across from the door I noticed a tiny window, hardly large enough for a child to fit through, and the light from the full moon was streaming through it, casting a faint illumination to the room

I held my breath and slipped into the room.

That was a mistake.

There was a fantastic blaming noise as the door slammed shut behind me, propelled closed by the large axe slicing into the wood of the door and frame, locking it into place.

My only way out had been blocked. I whirled around to see a grinning Negaduck step out from the shadows, holding a huge cannon-like gun and smirking.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Darkwing Dork!” he laughed in his grating voice, so like mine and yet so utterly opposite. “I was wondering how long it would take you to find me; I’ve been leaving you a trail at every place I’ve destroyed!  I warned ya to stay away, but you just don’t listen, do you?”

“Hah!  I could never stay away from an evil-doer when they’re out to destroy my great city!” I returned, eyes glittering with anger.

“Yeah, right!” Negaduck hissed. “And by the way, Dipwing, how long did it take you to realize that this was a trap?  You still figuring it out?” He broke off into laughter.

“As a matter of fact, Negadope, I knew perfectly well it was a trap,” I snapped, glaring at him. “Do you think I’d let something like one of your stupid traps keep me away from putting a stop to you?”

“That’s so like you, all talk and no action,” Negaduck spat out in disgust. Suddenly the grin was back. “And speaking of action, I suggest that you get rid of that silly little gas gun. A bit of itching powder isn’t going to do much against this baby!” He laughed again, patting his gun with something like affection; his eyes were so sly he suddenly reminded me of a snake, preparing to strike.

I watched him for a moment with hard eyes, calculating. It wasn’t the effect the gun would have on me that was worrisome; I knew I could easily move out of the way of anything ol’ Negsie might have thrown at me. But it was what might happen to whatever artifacts were in the room that had me worried.

I waited a moment longer, and then, rather regretfully, dropped my gas gun to the ground. Negaduck waited until he heard the clunk, and then began to laugh again.

“You know, Darkwing, it’s moments like this that make me wonder why I haven’t been able to kill you yet. It should be such a simple job.”

“Don’t count on it,” I growled, keeping my hands at my sides.

Negaduck’s bill curled into a sneer. “You’ve always been the weaker one, you know that, don’t you?”

I held my head up, glaring at him, but said nothing.

It almost seemed to infuriate him. “You *are* the weaker one!  All you do is run yourself ragged, trying to protect a bunch of losers who think you’re nothing but a clown in a mask and a cape!  All you need are floppy shoes and a bozo nose to complete the get-up!”

My mouth dropped open to hear my own words thrown back at me like that. It was chilling.

Seeing my surprise, but misinterpreting it, Negaduck looked back and smirked. “But when would you ever figure that out?  And even if you did, you’d never stop, would you?  Because you operate under some weird principle that ‘your’ city needs you!  Yeah, right!”

I didn’t answer for a moment. Then I steadily said, “The one thing that keeps me from being a clown in a mask and cape, Negajerk, is a sense of purpose. That’s what makes me a hero. Not stopping scoundrels like you from wrecking my city. But a feeling of doing what I was born to do. What I am meant to do. But I guess that’s not something you’d understand, is it?”

“Forget that!” Negaduck menaced, pointing his gun at my chest. “I think it’s time we all said good-bye to the clown, don’t you?”

He reached behind the boxes, never taking his eyes off me, and came back with a rope. He set the gun down then, reaching instead into his pocket for a small remote control device. It was a simple black box with a large red button on it and an antennae. He held up the rope, still gesturing to the remote.

“See this?” and he indicated the remote. “I press this button, and the explosives I’ve set up along the Audubon Bay Bridge go off. Got it?”

“What----explosives?  Along the Bridge?  But the people . . .You can’t, I’ve got to----“ My path to the axe-obstructed door was blocked by the sudden appearance of the remote control waved under my bill.

“Nice try, Dark-wimp Duck, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you, hmm?” Negaduck snarled, whipping the control away before I could reach for it, his thumb hovering above the button. “A better idea would be for you to wait while I tie you up.”

That trademark grin came back yet again. “This won’t take long.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Comfortable, Darkwing?” smirked Negaduck as he set the last explosive in place.

“A veritable Laze-Y-Duck recliner, you brooding buffoon,” I growled, struggling against the ropes that held me to the simple wooden chair. If only I could----

“Well, not to worry Darkwing, it won’t be much longer,” grinned my evil double, gesturing to the small stack of bombs he had assembled around the room. “By the time I’ve left this stupid kiddie-art exhibit, the timer will have gone off and you’ll be duck flambé!  And in case you were wondering, the bombs won’t go off all at once. The timer is set so they go off individually, so that you can have a bit of fire and rubble on ya before you finally get blown to Kingdom-Come at the finale. Might be a little bit more . . . agonizing for ya that way.”

He simpered at me, raising an eyebrow. “Just think of this as one big bonfire.” He tossed something at me that landed at my feet, and I looked down, recognizing a bag of marshmallows. “Here, I thought you could make s’mores!”

I did my best to ignore his evil laughter as I frantically twisted my wrists against the bindings.

Negaduck paused in his mocking monologue to walk to the door and grasp the axe by the handle and the back of its head, wrenching back to twist it out of the wood. When at last it pulled free, he twirled it a few times, grinning at me inanely. Then he tossed it aside and crossed back to the chair, leaning down towards me to smirk.

“Well, Dipwing, I’d love to stick around, but that thing’s only got a few moments left on it; just enough time for me to get out of here. So I think I’ll be leavin’ now. See ya later, SAP!” More maniacal laughter followed as Negaduck headed toward the door.

I didn’t waste any time trying to come up with a good retort. Instead, I began to rearrange my hands so that I could activate my buzz-saw cufflinks. I finally found the button and managed to press the release, shooting them out. But before I could start them cutting, and before Negaduck had even gotten completely out of the door, another voice startled me.

“Darkwing! Is that you? Father, what are you doing to him?”

“I told you *never* to CALL ME THAT!”

Negaduck backed into the room, still yelling, completely in shock. Following behind him and into the room was----

“GOSALYN!” I yelled, trying to hit the link to get the buzz-saws going. But my panic had set in and I couldn’t find it. “Gosalyn, what on earth are you doing----“

My voice dropped off as I took in Gosalyn’s pink, frilly dress, her black patent leather shoes, her curled hair . . .

It wasn’t Gosalyn. At least, it wasn’t *my* Gosalyn. It was Negaduck’s Gosalyn, the one from his world, the one who had been under his care until she had been taken into protection by the Darkwings Ducks, also known the Friendly Four.

This was the Gosalyn from the Negaverse.

Talk about a plot twist.

“----here,” I finished weakly, realizing, without understanding, what was going on. I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Neither, apparently, could Negaduck. After several speechless moments, which he spent staring opened-mouthed at her, he finally managed to drop out with, “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I-I saw a window . . . only it wasn’t really a window, but I don’t know what else to call it . . .” her eyes were huge, and there was a look of fear in her expression. She continued, “You used to tell me about the Darkwingverse and I thought I must have found a way to it. So I came through and found myself in the----the *other* St. Canard. I was trying to find you . . . and it looked like you had been here . . .”

I shook my head, trying to figure out what she was saying. Failing, I settled for watching Negaduck’s reaction. The appearance of his ward from the Negaverse seemed to have shaken him; he was wide-eyed and actually trembling. “But you---wait a minute!  Did you say a window?”

Gosalyn nodded her head, her curls bouncing.

“Did it look like a square hanging in the air, with a different view through it?  The same as our world, and yet not the same?”

“Yes.”

“BLAST IT!” Negaduck roared suddenly, causing both Gosalyn and me to flinch. “YOU’VE GONE THROUGH A TEMPORARY PORTAL!”

He leaned down close to Gosalyn and spoke in a heavy, soft tone; a tone I knew to be dangerous. “And do you know *why* it’s called a temporary portal?”

She shook her head.

“BECAUSE IT’S TEMPORARY, YOU SORRY EXCUSE FOR SPACE!” he bellowed, eyes glowing at her. “It might close up and disappear at any SECOND, and then YOU would be TRAPPED HERE!  *FOREVER*!!  And we certainly don’t want THAT, DO we?!?!”

Gosalyn looked at him fearfully, but said nothing.

“Well?  What are you waiting for?  Get out of here!  Get back!  The portal could already have closed!” Negaduck cried, looking down at Gosalyn.

Gosalyn hesitated, then managed to quietly ask, “But what about Darkwing?”

“What about Darkwing?” demanded Negaduck dangerously.

I found my voice at last. “Gosalyn, go. You don’t need----“

“I would thank you to stay out of this,” growled my evil double, twisting around to look at me. He turned back to Gosalyn. “The window is going to disappear!  The explosives are going to start!  Get out of here!  What do you even care about *him* for?”

“He’s a hero,” said Gosalyn softly. “He’s what you could have been.”

Negaduck’s eyes went from glittering black to solid red. “I think you’ve done a bit too much thinking in the year since I’ve been gone,” he hissed, unbridled fury apparent on his face. “You’ve gotten too smart for your own good!  Now come on, this place is going to blow!” He reached out to grab her wrist.

At that moment, my finger hit the trigger latch and the buzz-saws ran through the dusty rope like butter. It took me only a second to grasp Negaduck’s wrist in one hand and wrench his fingers from Gosalyn’s arm as I whirled her behind me.

“Don’t touch her again,” I growled, letting go of them both, “Or you’re in trouble.”

“What?” gasped Negaduck in mock surprise, raising a hand to his chest in indignation. “Is the great Darkwing Duck actually trying to threaten me?  I think not!”

He drove his elbow into my stomach too quickly for me to react, then hit me between the shoulder blades, taking me to the floor. As I collapsed to the ground, arms wrapped around my stomach, Negaduck suddenly growled and looked around the room searchingly. “Where’s that kid?” he demanded, paying no attention to me as I gasped for air, trying not to gag. “She was here a minute ago!  I’ve got to find her; I don’t want that brat trapped here with me forever!  I don’t want to get stuck with her again!” He was gone out the door before I could even attempt to move.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself to my feet, keeping my arms wrapped around my abdomen. I inhaled sharply as I straightened up and then let it go, breathing deeply through the pain. After several moments, it was bearable again, and I could move enough to get out of there, and to go find Nega-Gosalyn----and Negaduck.

I could hear Negaduck down the hall, muttering curses as he checked the other rooms only to find no sight of Gosalyn. I thought for a moment, then raced down the stairs. Gosalyn might know that I had a sidekick, and if she knew that, then she may have tried to go to him for help.

I ran down the steps and out the door, searching frantically. Gosalyn and the Thunderquack were no where to be seen.

I had no idea where Launchpad could have gone. Had he taken Gosalyn somewhere safe?  Maybe he----

“Darkwing!” cried a tiny voice, and I whirled to see Gosalyn partially hidden behind the row of hedges that surround the museum. Her pink dress had gotten torn around the edges of the lace hem, and her cherubic face, framed with curls, was tear-streaked. My heart broke to see my daughter----his ward----so upset.

“Gosalyn!” I cried, racing towards her. I kneeled down and held open my arms and she jumped in, wrapping her tiny arms around me. She pressed her face close to me, and I could feel her tears running down her beak onto the feathers of my face. I held her close, rocking her back and forth, a few tears dripping down my own cheek. “It’s okay, Gos, it’s okay!  We’ll get you home, all right?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. I suddenly felt a great swell of hatred for Negaduck, for what he had done to this small girl. How could he hate so much as to hurt such an innocent?  How cruel could he be?

“I just wanted to make sure that Father was okay,” sniffed Gosalyn. “I’m not supposed to call him that. But I do. And I just wanted him to be okay.”

“Oh, Gos, it will be okay,” I murmured, unable to think of anything else to say.

Suddenly Gosalyn pulled away from me. “Where is Father?” she asked, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Negaduck?  I don’t know, I think he’s still inside, looking for you. He wanted to get you home,” I added, not wanting to tell Gosalyn the full extent of Negaduck’s reason for finding her.

“Oh no!  He said the building was going to explode!  I’ve got to go find him!” exclaimed Gosalyn, as she started running for the door. I stood up and caught her wrist, holding her back.

“Gosalyn, you can’t go in there. The building’s going to blow up any second!  You could be killed!” I cried.

“But I have to try!” she said, pulling against my grasp.

Suddenly, there was a muffled sound of explosion and the building seemed to shake. A flash appeared through the upstairs window, the room where the bombs had been, as the explosion took place.

Debris began to rain down, breaking through the glass of the small window. I grasped Gosalyn against me, whirling around, exposing my back to the building as I held her away from the falling wreckage. I let out a cry as something heavy and dull hit me on the back of the head. I could dimly hear Gosalyn’s startled exclamation just as the lights around me began to dim.

“Gos, don’t go in there . . .” I slurred, as everything faded to black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sound of gruff but frantic shouting cut through the pool of blackness I was submerged in. I struggled to swim against the darkness, because the voice sounded so urgent. Fighting against the invisible, smothering current, I slowly began to wake up, a drum pounding through my temples as I began to open my eyes.

I woke up to find the museum smoking, flames licking up into the night. The voice was coming from  the small window. Somehow, I had ended up across the street from the museum, protected in part by a large tree.

Using the tree as a handhold, I drug myself to my feet, blinking against the pounding waves of pain that were coursing through my head. I carefully made my way across the street, looking up at the source of the yelling.

What I saw shocked me to no end.

Negaduck was leaning his head out the window, yelling, “DARKWING!  GET OVER HERE, YOU *KNOB*!” He had one arm against the window ledge, as if for support, but his other arm seemed to be wrapped around something close by.

“Negaduck?” I yelled back up, incredulous. “WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING UP THERE?”

“ROASTING THOSE MARSHMALLOWS, WHAT DO YOU *THINK*, YOU *IDIOT*!?” he screamed back. I peered up at him through the smoke, darkness, and agony of the headache, and could see Negaduck himself squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, they were full of pain.

“Where’s Gosalyn?” I yelled more calmly, trying to think.

“Right here!” Negaduck hollered, gesturing with his chin to his arm wrapped around something by his side. “We’re trapped; the door’s behind a wall of flames!”

“I’ll come up!” I found myself responding instantaneously. I had to get Gosalyn to safety. “There must be a way through!”

“DON’T BE A *GOOF*!” shot back Negaduck furiously. “You’ll never make it in time!  It’s too late! Now----“

“But, Gosalyn . . .” I broke him off, my voice caught in my throat. Negaduck was acting funny; I couldn’t figure out anything with this headache.

“I’ll toss her down!” Negaduck yelled. “Get ready to catch!”

“All right, I’ll----You’ll what!?” I cried, amazed. “What do you mean, you’ll toss her down?  Why not just toss her into the flames?  What do you care?”

“For the love of all things evil, you KNOB, what are you trying to do, change my mind?” Negaduck screamed. “Now is NOT the time to question my motives!  I can’t get out!  She can!  Now, are you going to catch her, or are you going to stand around asking me if I should just kill her instead?!”

I shook off my confusion; there’d be time enough to deal with that later. “All right, I’m ready!” I yelled, positioning myself beneath the window. “Go ahead!”

Negaduck leaned back a bit, then suddenly sagged, his eyes shut again. Closer to the window now, I could see the red blood pouring down Negaduck’s face from under his hat. Something in my stomach seemed to twist.

After a moment, Negaduck gritted his teeth and straightened up, his head disappearing from view. A moment later there was a muffled, “You better be READY!” and suddenly he thrust Gosalyn out the window, still holding her. His hands suddenly released, and she tumbled through the air. I dove closer and caught her, her weight driving me to the ground; I couldn’t support her with my head still pounding like that.

“GOT HER!” I yelled then, pulling up to a sitting position while still holding Gosalyn in my arms, feeling a wave of relief wash through me. “Negaduck, she’s safe!” My voice caught in my throat at that statement. Did he actually care?

“Wonderful,” he gasped, sagging in the window frame again. It was barely big enough for his head and arms to rest against. There was no way he could fit through to escape.

“I’ll come get you,” I yelled, trying to stand up straight. Gosalyn, looking scared, helped me to my feet.

“DON’T YOU DARE!” screamed Negaduck with sudden vehemence, setting off a coughing fit. Surprised, Gosalyn and I watched as he struggled for breath, then looked out at us again. “You’d never make it. Get her to the window right now, before it disappears or this place explodes!”

“But Negaduck, you----” I started.

He laughed, but it was more bitter than evil. “Did something idiotically decent for a change?  Like you?  And now all of a sudden you want to help me?  Thanks, but no thanks. It was just an stupid moment of temporary sanity. It’ll pass.”

“Not if you never get out of there,” Gosalyn said weakly.

“This kid is driving me CRAZY!” yelled Negaduck, coughing again, making his voice even more raspy. “Get her OUT of here!”

“But----” I began.

“NOW!”

“I can’t just leave you here, Negaduck,” I whispered.

Somehow, he heard me. “Why not?” he choked. “You would have before.”

“Maybe, but not now,” I growled.

Negaduck looked at me. The anger and hatred was still there, but there was a faint glimmer of something else in his features. I wasn’t sure what, though. “Darkwing,” he managed, each word pain-filled, “Please. Get the brat back home.”

“I----”

“Please.”

I looked up at my Nega-counterpart, who was sagging against the sill, face lined with pain. I looked down at the frightened little girl in my arms.

It did me in.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, looking at her. I turned my face up towards the window. “I’M *SORRY*!” I yelled up, my heart aching more than my head. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her back!”

Negaduck’s shoulders, behind the window, lifted and sagged in a sigh. Then, without saying a word, he withdrew from the window.

“FATHER!” yelled Gosalyn, her voice so tiny and sweet, even though she was yelling up at him. “FATHER, PLEASE!  Darkwing, you have to save him!”

Before I could answer or even think of what to do next, I heard a piercing beeping noise from the room where Negaduck had collapsed back into. Grasping Gosalyn into my arms, I raced across the street, headache forgotten in the swell of adrenaline, as the dull sound of a massive explosion replaced the frantic beeping.

I was just darting behind the tree when the roar of the explosion came on us. As we were lifted into the air I made a desperate grab for Gosalyn and managed to get a hold of her arm, pulling her close to me. When we landed, I was able to get her under me, protecting her with my body from any of the flying debris. But this left me wide open for anything flying our way.

I let out small hisses of pain as slivers of glass and wood slashed across my arm. Larger pieces of debris fell, hitting my back and leaving it bruised and battered. Then something found its way to my right temple, leaving behind a deep gash that streamed blood across my face. I cried out against the fiery slash of agony that was pounding through my temple.

Yet all the while, the only thoughts that ran through my mind were that of the trembling child in my arms . . . and of the criminal mastermind, left in the building torn by the explosion of his own design. I was trying to understand why he had just rescued the girl that was his ward. No, his daughter. But it was something that I could not understand. Not yet.

And then, suddenly, it was over.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I waited a moment to make sure that the explosion was, indeed, finished. Then cautiously I raised my head and glanced around. There were still sounds of smaller bits of debris flying through the air, making clinking noises through the dusty haze that was settling around us.

I pulled myself up to a sitting position, feeling blood trickling down my arm and leg and face. Gosalyn sat up, her face a bit ashy, but she looked otherwise unhurt.

“Are you okay?” It was the first thing I could think of.

“I’m fine . . . but you’ve been hurt!” she cried, looking at my arm in horror. She gently reached up and touched near my temple, blood dropping onto her fingers. I tried not to wince as she felt near the wound, and carefully used an edge of my cape to wipe the blood away from her fingers.

That was when I suddenly noticed the bloodstains on her dress. “Gosalyn, you have been hurt!” I cried, horrified. “What happened?”

Gosalyn looked confused; then looked down at the blood on her sleeves and dress. “Oh, that,” she said, tears glimmering in her eyes. “That’s not from me. It’s from----from Father. From Negaduck.”

“Negaduck,” I whispered, standing up, grasping my arm at the searing pain that was running through it. But my thoughts were with my arch-villain, the one who had turned out to be not as villainous as I had thought. Could he somehow have survived?

Gosalyn looked horrified. “Do you think he’s, that he’s okay?” she gulped, a tear running down her face.

“I don’t know,” I admitted honestly. “You know, he could be. I’ve survived an explosion, too.”

Gosalyn looked at me in surprise but said nothing. I crushed down the urge to ask how she and Negaduck had met. Instead I said, “Now, come on!  We’ve got to get you back through that window before it closes!”

I picked up my hat from where it had blown to in the course of the explosion; then started walking, rather unsteadily, towards the hedges, leading Gosalyn towards them. She caught up to me before I had even finished crossing the street.

“But what about Father?”

I opened my beak to answer, but then noticed something amazing; the building was still standing!  It was completely blown through and still smoldering in some places, but it was still standing. Negaduck must not have placed the bombs as strategically as he had thought.

Shaking off my amazement, I crouched down by Gosalyn and took her fiercely by the shoulders, ignoring the blood trickling down my face and pooling onto my bill. “Listen to me. I will go back to make sure that Negaduck is all right. I promise, Gos, I’ll find him.”

“You promise?” she asked almost timidly, looking into my eyes.

“With all my heart,” I said, eyes shining, and I pulled her into a gentle hug, stroking her hair with my good arm as I held her. “I’ll find him. No matter what.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed into my shoulder, her tears falling onto my jacket. I squeezed her tight, feeling a burst of affection.

“And please,” she added, a few tears still falling, “If you find him, and he’s, and he’s hurt, please, don’t leave him there alone. He’ll probably tell you to go away; but please don’t leave him. I don’t want him to have to be alone if he----” she couldn’t finish, but I knew what she wanted.

I wrapped my arms around her tighter. “I won’t,” I said firmly. “No matter what. I’ll stay there with him.”

“Now, come on,” I said at last, when she drew away. “We’ve got to get you back home.”

Gosalyn grasped my hand and we dashed along the hedges to the end of the block. At the corner hedge was one of the strangest sights I had ever seen.

A squarish “window” was in the middle of the air by the hedge, floating in nothing. It was framed in the same greenish light as the bizarre birthday cake portal from the bakery. I crouched down by the window, looking through. At the other side, I could see another hedge; a bit more brown than the one on this side, but still healthy. The sidewalk had been laid sometime recently, and the pavement gleamed.

I felt a gleam of pride. The Darkwings Ducks were cleaning up their city.

But even as I watched, the window was wavering, shimmering slightly as if ready to disappear. I looked down at Gosalyn, who was waiting by my side. “Hurry; I think it’s going to close!” I cried, gesturing at the window.

Nega-Gosalyn paused just by the portal. She leaned up and kissed the top of my bill, throwing her arms around me again for one final hug. At last she pulled away, then leaned down and crawled into the window.

She reached the other side and looked back at me, giving a sweet smile. But there was still a cloud of worry in her eyes.

“I’ll find him,” I called out, “I promise.”

She gave a bigger, real smile then, waved her tiny hand----and with a sudden violent shimmering shake, the window began to vibrate, all the while shrinking down in size; until finally, it vanished.

I turned from the window with a sigh, wiping at the blood on my face. I stopped to tear off two long strips from my cape, which I tied tightly around my forearm and my head. I grimaced at the fiery bursts of pain, all the while muttering about ruining a perfectly good cape. I replaced my hat on my head, careful not to disrupt the bandage.

Then I turned grimly back to the dusty building. I had something I had to do.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I hesitantly approached the dusty, smoldering remains of the Dehooney Museum. The whole structure looked as if it had been blown around by the seams; but it still seemed somewhat stable. There was a relatively good chance it would remain standing for a while yet. Yeah. And Negaduck and I were about to become the best of friends.

“Oh, goody, it won’t collapse for at least five whole minutes,” I grumbled to myself. “I can’t believe I’m about to go into a building that’s ready to go crashing down on my head at any moment, just so that I can help my arch-enemy, who might not even be alive. This has got to be a low point in my career.”

I almost turned to go, but then I remembered my promise to Gosalyn. I couldn’t break that, even if it meant that I just might be----

“Well, if the building doesn’t crush me into pieces, I’m sure Negaduck will finish up the job,” I muttered, then stopped in mid-stride, wondering. What had happened to my old nemesis?  Why had he saved his daugh----Gosalyn?  I couldn’t quite bring myself to think of Gosalyn as anything but Negaduck’s ward. Never a daughter. And yet now . . .

Even without the promise, even with the risk, I knew I would go in there regardless. There was some part of me that desperately needed to know why my evil Negaversian twin had done what he had. And there was only one person who could answer my question.

“If Negaduck himself even knows,” I reminded myself, stepping towards the building again.

A familiar voice stopped me. “DARKWING!  D.W., wait!”

I turned to see Launchpad running towards me. The Thunderquack, however, was no where in sight. “Launchpad!  What are you doing here?” I asked, putting a hand on Launchpad’s shoulder as he screeched to a halt in front of me, panting.

He took a few deep breaths before he started speaking. “I took those guards that Negaduck knocked out to the hospital. I didn’t want to leave ya, but they weren’t lookin’ too good, and I didn’t know what else to do. I left the hospital right away, before the police could get there and start asking me too many questions. You never seem to appreciate the police helpin’ ya, so I thought it would be best. And those guards won’t be wakin’ up for awhile----”

“Yeah,” I finished, tensely. Launchpad took his first good look at me and I could see concern wash over his features. He opened his bill to ask me what had happened, but I beat him to the punch. My time was running out.

“Launchpad. I don’t have time to explain everything, but Negaduck is still in there, and he might be alive. I have to go in and find him.”

“What?  Why?” demanded Launchpad, not in anger but in shock. Incomprehension tinged his voice.

“He might need my help----” I broke off, unsure of where to go with my statement.

“Help?  You want to help Negaduck?  D.W., that building doesn’t look very sturdy!  What if it collapsed?  You----you can’t go in there!  We can just let the police handle everything from here on out----”

“First of all,” I said gently but quickly, “The police are not a part of this. And second, it’s not ‘we’, it’s ‘I’. I’m going in by myself. I don’t want you in there if something does happen. Go back and tell Gosalyn that we’re okay, she’s probably worried sick.”

“She’s not really going to believe me if you’re not there!” said Launchpad pointedly. “I just don’t understand why you want to go back in there!”

“I don’t,” I said softly, “But I made a promise to someone that I wouldn’t leave Negaduck alone to die. If he’s still alive . . . And I can’t break this promise,” I finished firmly. “I have to do this. Please, L.P., trust me on this one!”

Launchpad studied me carefully for a moment, not speaking. At last, he said sadly, “I don’t wanna leave ya.”

“I know, ol’ buddy, but I’m asking you to. Gos needs you right now.”

Silence for another moment. Then, softly, “I’ll go watch Gosalyn for ya, okay, D.W.?”

“Thanks, pal,” I returned, gripping his shoulder for a moment in thanks. He patted me on the back carefully, noticing the bandage on my arm, before slowly turning and walking back down the street. Only once did he look back at me, and I waved him on reassuringly. Then he was gone, and after a few moments, I could hear the sound of the Thunderquack revving up and taking off. I waited until I saw it soar overhead, heading towards the Tower. Then I turned back to the remains of the museum.

I had no time to lose.

I looked at the building again and shook my head. Then I walked carefully up the stairs to the front door. It was completely gone, ripped off its hinges and tossed aside down the hall. Gingerly, I stepped into the foyer, wincing at the sound of the long, moaning crea-a-ak my footstep made.

I paused a moment, standing with one foot outside and one foot over the doorway, feeling a wave of uncomfortable uncertainty. And underneath that uncertainty was the pain from the injuries I had sustained. I must have looked like a train wreck. My left arm was pressed firmly to my side in an attempt to keep the fire that coursed through it at bay. Then there was the small trickle of blood that had escaped the tourniquet and was now making its way down the side of my face. I was glad that the flow had slowed down somewhat, but there was still the matter of the pain.

No time for that now. “Negaduck?” I called, looking up the stairs, trying not to feel stupid. And failing. “Negaduck?” I took a few more steps forward, then paused to listen carefully.

No answer.

Maybe he really was dead.

“Negaduck?” I started to carefully, gently, make my way up the stairs. It had been a terrific blast; it had only been luck that I had survived the explosion at St. Canard Tower. Even now, I found myself wincing at the memory, which had been brought to the surface with the massive explosion that had just taken place.

Then again, maybe he was laying in wait for me, waiting for me to come up so that he could finally kill me.

I shook off the suspicion. I’d keep my eyes open, but the chances of Negaduck being in a healthy enough condition right now to attack me was virtually nil. I reached the top of the stairs at last, then made my way to the doorway.

This door, too, was gone, but it had been burnt apart as opposed to being outright blasted away. I remembered Negaduck saying that flames were keeping Gosalyn and him from the door; I wondered just how many explosives the duck had set up. The door was still smoking, but luckily there was plenty of space for me to squeeze around the remains and into the room.

The room was a mess. There was no other word for it. The fire must not have been very big, because the falling debris from the final explosion had been enough to snuff it out, but everything was still smoking and dusty. The boxes had been thrown around completely; remains of artifacts and paintings were hanging out of torn-apart boxes, or thrown onto the floor. The room was completely covered in debris and wreckage, with piles of the stuff situated in different places around the room. The tiny window had been blown apart, along with part of the surrounding wall.

There was no still sign of Negaduck.

At least, no immediate sign. I remembered how he had simply withdrawn back through the window once Nega-Gosalyn had been safe, presumably slumping to the floor, perhaps crawling away from the window; who could tell?  It was obvious that he had already been hurt; I winced at the memory of all the blood pouring down his face, his profile framed by smoke and flames and night. He couldn’t have gone very far; he was probably buried in the rubble.

I had been buried in rubble, too, after that explosion with Tarsus Bulba. I had been alive, and I had survived. Could Negaduck be alive, too?  If so, would he recover?

I didn’t know what I wanted more; for him to be alive or dead.

Pushing that thought aside, I instead tackled the more immediate problem: finding him.

Well, whatever Negaduck’s present condition was, I knew that if he was still alive, he didn’t have a lot of time for me to be wandering around randomly looking around rubble piles. I needed to think.

The biggest explosive hadn’t been under the window, but against that wall, to the left of the window. So he had probably tried to get away from there; while not getting too close to the flames. I gingerly picked my way through the strewn wreckage towards the middle of the room. It was tricky business; in some places the rubble was piled waist- and even chest-deep for me; and I really did not want to step on top of Negaduck while trying to find him. In fact, I don’t think I would have found him in time if I hadn’t spotted a bit of dusty yellow and red amidst a pile of rubble.

My stomach dropped in surprise to see it. Kneeling down, I gingerly but quickly began to grasp at the material, pulling away bits of wood and other unidentifiable substances from the surrounding areas. After a moment or two, I had dug out Negaduck’s limp arm, his cape draped twistedly around it.

I took a quick breath, estimating, then moved a bit up and to the left, going to where I thought his head should be. After several more moments, I suddenly saw a flash of yellowish-orange and realized his bill was free.

Shoveling aside what looked like a piece of the wall and the remains of a clay sculpture, I saw Negaduck’s face suddenly appear. His eyes were shut, and blood was still falling slowly from the wound on his head. Unbelievably, his hat was still in place. I quickly whirled behind him, grasping him by the shoulders, and pulled him free from the remainder of the junk.

He suddenly gave a wheezing gasp as I pulled him out, his broken body giving a twitching convulse. Kneeling back down on his left, I looked at him with an expression that was somehow both concerned and impassive. I kept his head supported, noting with a surprising swell of worry that the blood flow from his head wound had increased from the movement. I didn’t know what else to do.

Negaduck’s eyes suddenly opened. He looked carefully around, saw me next to him with my hand cradling his head, and drew in a sharp intake of breath. His face convulsed in fury, but before he could say a word, he began to cough.

I gave up the feeling of taboo at touching my arch-enemy and put my other hand under his back, trying to give him support through the attack. The gasping coughs ended as suddenly as they had begun. Negaduck paused, drawing in a long, shallow breath. Then he looked up at me.

“I think my arms are broken or something,” he said, his voice quiet and horribly raspy but still with the usual note of hatred. “If they weren’t, rest assured that I would have killed you by now.”

“And I think you would find that Darkwing Duck isn’t as easy to kill as you think,” I returned, my tone strong but my voice subdued. “Apparently, neither are you.”

“I wish I had that kind of optimism about this situation, you knob,” Negaduck hissed, ignoring my look of sorrow. I could tell he hated it, that I was sympathizing with him, but my thoughts kept returning to Nega-Gosalyn and I couldn’t help but feel a pulse of empathy for him. He continued, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about the wrath of Negaduck much longer. Pity.”

There was a lot of bitterness in that one statement. Before I could say anything, he suddenly twisted up again. I thought it might be from pain or shock, but he looked at me crossly and said, “Couldn’t you let me go?  This is humiliating enough as it is without you cradling me like a mother hen. My arch-enemy hanging around to watch me die----how insulting.” It was from his need to get away from me.

“I don’t think your Gosalyn would approve of that,” I said lightly. “She asked me to come back, you know. She made me promise not to leave you alone.”

“Great. I should have guessed that,” he growled, looking at me glaringly. His eyes  took in my torn cape, the blood-soaked rags around my arm and head. “Looks like you’ve seen better days yourself, Dipwing. Probably doing something stupid again to protect that dumb kid. She get back okay, or what?”

“She got back just fine, Negaduck,” I said gently. “But not without waiting to hear me promise to go find you.”

“Dang kid,” he mumbled. “Ya try to raise ‘em evil, and they turn on you.”

Despite the situation, I had to grin. “Kids these days,” I managed to say, a hint of amusement in my voice. I moved my hand from underneath his back, trying to support him more in the shoulders----and suddenly noticed that my hand was completely covered in blood. His blood.

Negaduck couldn’t see my hand, I kept it out of his limited range of vision, but he could see the look of shock on my face. There was a faint flash of something buried deep in his eyes, but before I was certain of its emotion, he had quickly replaced it with a look of disgust. “Look, let’s not beat around the bush, okay?” he said after a moment, his bill curling into something like a sneer. “It’s simple. This all really hurts. I must be majorly bleeding out of at least five different places. And I’m in an incredible amount of pain here. I’m dying, okay?  Try not to look so happy about it,” he added at the look of agitation on my face. “I’ll finally be out of your way. You can go back to protecting YOUR stupid city, and I----” his eyes suddenly squeezed shut in pain and his hand, resting near my arm, feebly reached up and grasped my arm in such a tight hold that I hissed in surprise. I couldn’t help but remember what he had said about killing me. But it was obvious that he couldn’t move his arm any further than the top of my own.

Several moments passed, and then he relaxed, his eyes opening and his grip releasing. The pain was still very evident on his face, but he seemed to have been able to tone its effects down a bit. “I can’t believe I touched you,” he spat, looking disgusted. “Look, do me a favor; in my right cape pocket there’s a gun. Take it out, put the barrel between your eyes, and squeeze the trigger.  Call it a dying duck’s last request,” and the sly grin was there for a moment.

“Sorry, my license to carry expired last week,” I returned, looking down at the grin, the anger and sarcasm in his expression; in other words, his normal look.

And a burning hatred was building in Negaduck’s features. He glared at me coldly. “All right, enough of this. Leave.”

“I think I’ll stick around a bit, if you don’t mind,” I managed.

“I mind.” His eyes were fairly turning red. And I could hear menace in his voice.

But what could he do to me, now?  I didn’t reply, didn’t move. Just stayed there, holding him.

“LEAVE, DAMMIT!” he screamed suddenly, and I jumped at his sudden outburst. His cry set off a round of coughing, and he choked, trying desperately to breathe again.

I waited until the fit subsided. “I can’t,” I said simply. “I have a promise to keep. And . . . I don’t want you to have to be alone. No one should have to be alone . . . now.”

He stared at me for a moment, not speaking.

Then he drew in a ragged breath and spat full in my face.

I didn’t say a word, merely used my free hand to wipe away the spit and blood from my eyes. Then looked back down at him, almost impassive.

“You did this,” he hissed. “You did this to me. It’s your fault I’m lying here, dying like this. No dignity, no power. So don’t even try to tell me that you want to *help* me. What a liar you are, Darkwing Duck.”

“I think not,” I said forcefully. “Don’t you *dare* try to blame me for this. You chose your own path years ago, Negaduck. Not me.”

“And what would you know about that?” he asked, sounding disgusted. “Don’t start giving me that noble justice crap. Do you even have any real idea of why I hate you so much?”

I sighed and paused, looking down at his sneering expression. “No, I don’t. I’ve always supposed it’s because you hate everything I stand for. You can’t stand watching me beat you, when I represent everything you hate.”

Negaduck wheezed as the blood flow suddenly increased. I shook my head and tried to help him relax . . . to no avail. After a moment, he drew in a shallow breath.

“I suppose that’s part of it, you knob,” he groaned. “But it’s mostly because I don’t understand you.”

A wave of confusion hit me. “What?”

“I don’t understand you. I can’t understand you. You’ve spent all these years, all this time, trying to protect this stupid city. And they can’t stand you. They can’t stand you. Half of them think you’re a clown, and the other half think you’re actually some sort of villain. And the majority of them all are fully convinced that you’re insane.”

“That’s what they think of you,” I said rather pointedly.

He drew in another ragged breath. “Yeah, but I’m gaining something out of my reputation!  I’m doing something for myself!  I’m getting fame, money, power . . . and you’re still out there, night after night, trying to protect a bunch of yahoos who care nothing for you. Who want to get rid of you. Some of them hate you; some of them don’t even know you exist.”

I was silent for a bit. “Look, you know my sidekick----”

“The bumbling guy.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “The bumbling guy. Look, when I met him, he knew who I was. Instantly. This was before Tarsus Bulba; before people even really had any idea of who I was. The newspapers would make some sort of reference about a ‘dark wing duck’ once in a while, but anyone who had even heard of me regarded me as some sort of crazy loon who would go away after awhile.”

“They were right on the mark,” he muttered, twisting in pain. “Except for the part about going away, of course.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I replied sarcastically, before sighing and moving on. “Anyway, he knew who I was. I was his hero. He had a whole scrapbook of my newspaper clippings----”

“Must not have been a very big scrapbook.”

“No, he said that it----hey!” I glowered at a smirking Negaduck. “Look, do you want me to finish this or not?”

“Oh, go ahead,” he grumbled. “Might as well. Seeing as you apparently aren’t going to leave, I might as well hear why you think being a lunatic is worthwhile.”

“Thank you,” I said crossly. “But I was a hero to him. It didn’t matter to Launchpad that no one knew who I was, or hated me for getting in their way, or who thought I was crazy. To him, I was a hero, a bringer of justice, a true crimefighter. I had inspired him----I changed him.”

I looked down at Negaduck, who was watching me carefully, his expression unreadable. I sighed, wondering if I was making any sense to Negaduck. “I made a difference in his life. He was a different person because of me. That’s why I got involved in this, Negaduck; not for the glory or the fame or the rewards----because the rewards aren’t glory or fame. They come from making a difference for people.”

Negaduck grinned at me suddenly, a triumphant look in his eyes. “Don't even try to tell me that the glory of being a famed crimefighter isn’t what you want. I’ve seen that in you already. You aren’t the saintly do-gooder you want to be.”

I winced slightly. “Look, I won’t say that I don't appreciate the recognition----” Negaduck was still smirking. “All right!” I said rather snappily. “I like it!  I like the fans and the autographs and the spots on the evening news. I really do. But that's not why I started in this business. That may be a bonus----even something I go after sometimes, I’ll admit that,” and I found myself averting my eyes, looking at something on the floor. "But I want to help people . . . It’s my purpose, and I love it, and I wouldn’t stop doing it for any reason.”

“Except----” here I hesitated. “Except for Gosalyn.”

A flicker of something in Negaduck’s eyes. But after a moment, it was gone.

“I just can’t get it, Duck,” he said finally, twisting his body in pain. “It’s not who I am.”

“But you are me,” I said, eyes narrowed.

Negaduck raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m the *opposite* of you.” His back arched in a sudden spasm, and I supported him again. When it faded, he continued, “That kid was right. I’m everything you could have been.”

“That’s not quite how she put it,” I murmured.

Negaduck scowled. “Kid thinks too much.”

There was silence for a moment. And then----

“Negaduck, there’s something I have to know,” I blurted out finally.

“I knew it. I knew it!” he spat, swallowing against the convulsive choke that was trying to grip his body. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stand it!”

“It just seems a bit out of character for you, that’s all,” I said almost meekly. Almost.

Negaduck paused, apparently thinking. “Oh, why in the heck not?” he finally spewed to himself. “This day can’t possibly get any worse. Might as well.”

He looked at me then, eyes suddenly bright. Bitter, angry, hateful, piercing eyes. My heart pounded in angst, causing the blood to suddenly flow harder from my head wound, down my right temple and onto my cheek and bill. I did my best to ignore the pain. Negaduck noticed but didn’t mention it.

“Look,” he said at last, staring at me, “I don’t know why I did it. I really, really don’t. All I do know is that, I finally found her standing in this room, just as the bomb in the hall was about to go off, and I ran in and grabbed her and----and held her,” and that almost seemed to embarrass him. “And the next thing I know, I get clobbered on the head by something and I’m bleeding all over her but she’s all right and the only thing I can think of is that I gotta get her out of there. The only way was through was the window; and the only one to help was you. Dipwing Dork. Of all my rotten luck.

“I don’t know why I did that. I think I may have lost my mind. Temporary sanity. I just don’t know.”

He looked at me, his eyes almost seeming to be searching for some reaction. “That’s the best I can do, you knob. I suppose *you’d* want to say that it was some geeky feeling like concern or affection, for cryin’ out loud, but----” another wave of pain crushed through him, and when it passed, his voice was even weaker than before.

“But I haven’t really experienced those too often,” he finished, “And I couldn’t tell ya if that’s what it was. How would I recognize it?”

“Kid has a way of getting under your skin, doesn’t she?” I managed softly. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A caring part of Negaduck?  Just barely there, but there it was.

“Guess you could put it that way,” he said tiredly, eyes drooping and his face lined. He suddenly looked years older than me, and as I knelt there in the rubble, holding my evil double in my arms, my heart twisted. I couldn’t understand how my years of hatred for him were being so easily erased, but they seemed to be. Then again, Gosalyn had always had that kind of effect on me. Nega-Gosalyn included. And, in seeing Negaduck caring for her, I could let my hatred go and see him in a different way. I actually found myself wishing that I could save him. But I couldn’t.

 “Do you really enjoy what you’ve done for all these years?” The question came without my even thinking about what I was saying.

“What?” demanded Negaduck, glaring at me.

I was beginning to wish I hadn’t said anything. But it was too late for that. “Everything you’ve done. The crimes and scams, the stealing, lying, and destruction----is it really something that makes you happy?”

“What do you think?” Negaduck arched an eyebrow, speaking in a simpering tone. “Why would I do it if I didn’t enjoy it?  It would be a lot of work otherwise. But the power, the control, the fame that comes with it ; what’s not to love?”

“But, all those people you’ve hurt . . .”

“Got in my way, but it usually didn’t slow me down too badly.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Darkwing, I like destruction. I *live* for it. In case you haven’t noticed; though, knowing your powers of observation, that’s a possibility.” He arched an eyebrow at me again, but I ignored the jibe. He continued, “That feeling of control, of having absolute power over everything; it’s a thrill. It’s more than that, really. It’s something that gets in your blood, you just can’t resist. It’s like an addiction, or a drug; you can’t get enough of that adrenaline pulse that comes from just wiping something out. Destruction; complete, utter, total, irreversible destruction. The power and energy, it’s incredible, just to know that you have such a mass effect, to know that people will never forget you, never underestimate your strength.”

He looked at me in disgust. “But you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be able to have that kind of power over people, so don’t worry your little head about it.”

There was nothing I could say. Negaduck had explained it all to me, or at least a part of it; and I didn’t understand a word. It made no sense. I knew I would never understand the attraction that inflicting pain on others had for him. And Negaduck, without my saying a word, knew that. And understood it. So we just stayed there in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Negaduck himself, or perhaps it was our Time running out, broke that silence surrounding us.

He was gripping my arm against the pain again, hardly aware of the fact that he was, indeed, coming in contact with me. His breathing was getting even shallower, and the agony was coming in pulses, with no pauses in between. He looked over at me, eyes still glittering with determination. “Darkwing,” he said, a note of the old order and control in his voice, “Don’t go parading the announcement of my death across St. Canard. Let me go out Public Enemy Number One. I don’t want those dips at the police station and S.H.U.S.H. central getting all gooshy and happy about the end of the evil Negaduck. Let them think I’m in hiding, planning the next big heist. In a way, it won’t be much of a lie, depending on how ya view it.” He paused to take a few gasping breaths. “Let them think I’ll be back. I suppose memory of me will fade eventually, but until then----”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” I said, “But I won’t bother helping them forget you. Maybe it’ll help my reputation; the Daring Darkwing Duck keeps criminals at bay by the mere thought of his prowess!”

“Yeah, right,” gasped Negaduck, his voice still maniacal even though it was so breathy. “Whatever. Just---don’t.”

“Don’t worry about it; I won’t tell them,” I promised, and meant it.

“Good. You sappy goody-goody crimefighers always keep your word,” but there wasn’t much malice in his voice now. The pain trembled through him and his grip on my arm was weakening.

I’ll never know why, and believe me when I say I’ve tried to figure it out, my eyes suddenly filled with tears. Negaduck looked up at my face, exhausted, and I had the satisfaction of a flicker of surprise going through his eyes. “What are you----” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” I answered steadily. “But I am.”

A single tear trickled down my face, through the blood and the grime, falling from the edge of my beak and onto Negaduck’s jacket. He looked tiredly amazed. “Didn’t think anyone would ever grieve the end of *me*,” he said gruffly.

“I wouldn’t go that far, maybe,” I said after a moment. “Or maybe I would.”

A hint of a strange smile curled around the corners of his bill. His breathing was so light it was almost unnoticeable.

Moments were left. I thought of all the things I wanted to tell this person, my enemy for so long, who was dying in my arms. I wanted to tell him how his Gosalyn loved him, how she had always seemed to believe in him, somehow. That I’d never forget how, in a way, he had shown me about having a purpose in life----even if it was only providing me with an evil to fight. But that was my purpose. And yet, there was no time to tell him, and I didn’t know how to say it anyway.

“She loves you,” I said at last.

Negaduck didn’t say anything, but a look of something unreadable crossed his face for one moment. Then it was gone, as another massive pulse of anguish poured through his body. He was still trembling slightly.

I gently supported him, my eyes brimming with tears but they did not fall, and my face was still steady. I realized why I was grieving; I had at last seen a glimmering of something more than anger and fear and hatred in this person; and it was for Gosalyn, _his_ Gosalyn, and _my_ Gosalyn was my whole world, and somehow, *somehow*, that made me grieve.

“Negaduck,” I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He took one shallow breath, enough to speak. “Yeah,” he sighed, “She’s right.”

It wasn’t that he stopped breathing mid-breath, he simply had no strength to draw another. The trembling suddenly stopped, and his hand on my arm went limp. His whole body relaxed as I looked down at him, his eyes closing gently.

I watched for a moment; then, with a sigh, set him gently on the ground. I just looked at him, not knowing what to think, shock washing through me. Not only shock for his death, but also at the fact that Negaduck, my nemesis, someone who found happiness only in destroying, had given up everything for his ward . . . No. For his daughter. For Gosalyn. Gosalyn.

The tears I had been holding finally began to run down my face, and at last, I realized why. As I looked down at the motionless body of my arch-enemy, my double and opposite, I was seeing the one person in this world that knew how much I loved the girl named Gosalyn. He was my evil twin, and hated everything I stood for. We had been enemies from the moment we met, and perhaps even before that----and though we had finally explained ourselves, it was beyond the other’s comprehension. We were too different, except for one thing; the love of a daughter. And the willingness to give up everything, *everything*, for her. Even if neither of us had known about that willingness until the final moment.

Lowering my head, I sent up a silent prayer, asking only that Negaduck would somehow find peace. Maybe, in his love for her, he deserved that much.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I wasn’t sure what to do. I had brought Negaduck’s body back to Darkwing Tower with me, leaving him on the cot I slept on whenever I was at the Tower for any length of time, the cot that had replaced my bed on the platform by the windows. I had to walk there; Launchpad was still no where to be seen. Which was just as well; I didn’t want to tell him what had happened to Negaduck. At least not yet; not until I could understand my own mixed feelings about his death.

I had washed up at the Tower and bandaged my injuries before putting on a fresh suit and spinning the chair home. And was immediately met there by a worried Launchpad and a frantic Gosalyn.

“D-A-A-A-A-A-DD!!” she cried as the chair stopped spinning at last and I sagged down into the cushioning. Before I could even begin to get up and hug her she had already thrown herself into my arms. “Dad, I was so worried, I’m so glad you’re okay, I thought that maybe you were---” she couldn’t continue and instead wrapped her arms around me harder, giving me kisses on the cheek and the top of my bill. My heart turned over at her concern and I drew her into my arms hugging her hard. “Gosalyn, I can’t even tell you how glad I am to see you,” I whispered. “I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you too, Dad,” she said softly, a tear running from her eye onto my bill. I hugged her tighter.

 “D.W., I’m so sorry!” cried Launchpad, rushing over himself. “I still can’t believe I let ya talk me into leavin’ you behind . . .” His eyes were sad.

“Don’t worry about it, L.P.” I said gently. “You did the right thing. Everything worked out.”

“But you’re *hurt*!” cried Gosalyn, suddenly noticing the bandage around my head; my jacket hid the one on my arm. “What happened?”

I hesitated a moment. “I need to hear you both promise not to say a word about this to anyone,” I said first, looking at them seriously.

Gosalyn and Launchpad exchanged glances. “We promise, Dad!” said Gosalyn, looking a bit concerned.

I took a deep breath. “Negaduck is dead.”

In any other situation, the sight of their bills dropping open in unison would have been wonderfully comical. “*What*?” asked Gosalyn in disbelief.

“Are you sure, D.W.?” asked Launchpad in shock.

“Yeah,” I said, looking away. “I’m sure. He died in my arms.”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa, time-out!­” said Gosalyn. “What happened?”

I stood up as Gosalyn slid off my lap, then carefully made my way over to the couch, sitting down gingerly. “Some aspirin would really help me get this story out.”

Two aspirin and half an hour later, I was finishing up my narrative of the events that night while Gosalyn and Launchpad looked at me in amazement.

“And now, he’s dead,” I said simply. “He’s up in Darkwing Tower; I have to figure out what to do from here.”

Gosalyn shook her head. “I still don’t get it, Dad,” she said finally. “Why did Negaduck save that other Gosalyn?”

“I’m not sure, Gos,” I said softly, looking down at her. “I don’t think he even knew why he did it. My only guess is that, while we are opposites in almost every way, there was one thing that made us the same: the most important thing in our lives. The love of a little girl.”

Gosalyn looked down at the floor, thinking.

Launchpad placed a hand on my shoulder; he hadn’t said much during the narrative, but now his face was sombre. “Now what are you goin’ do with him, D.W.?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I can’t just hand him over to someone for burial; I don’t want anyone knowing he’s dead. Not the police, not the media, not the public. Not even and not especially the Fearsome Fi----er, Four.”

“Why not?” asked Gosalyn. “Don’t you want people to know they’re safe?”

“I’m Darkwing Duck; I’m the city’s protector. I know they’re safe. That’ll have to be enough for now. It’s my job to watch out for them, and I am. But I don’t want to betray a promise.”

“Even one to Negaduck?” she demanded.

“Yeah,” I said softly.

“D.W.,” said Launchpad rather suddenly, “I think I have an idea.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As I stood at the top of Darkwing Tower, I looked across to the setting golden sun that was casting a crimson glow to the waters of the Bay. A faint tinge of purple and pink was on the edges of the clouds that were stretched across the horizon----but otherwise, the sky was clear and darkening.

The wind was playing with the edges of my cape, twisting and turning the fabric in the gentle, strong breeze. I stood there, my hat drawn down against the glare of sun rays, my eyes tired and sad, as I held the night-black urn in my hands.

Launchpad and Gosalyn hadn’t really asked what I had ultimately decided to do with Negaduck’s remains. It had been Launchpad’s suggestion to have Negaduck cremated, but he hadn't pressed me about what I was going to do. I had simply presented the problem to the local undertaker, an elderly man with wise eyes who hadn’t bothered with questions about why I was asking about a hardened criminal and why I didn’t simply turn his body over to authorities. Instead, he simply agreed to the request I made, and now I stood on the Tower, holding Negaduck’s remains in that slim, ebony urn and looking out across the water, alone. Yet, perhaps, not alone.

I watched the sun continue to set, slowly spreading its amber and scarlet rays across the waters and sinking slowly into the night. Tears began to fall, but I ignored them, focusing my attention back to the dying sun. When only a dim sliver of gold remained above the horizon, I gently unscrewed the top of the urn and spread the ashes to the winds. I watched as they spread out across the Bay, the breeze picking up and carrying the swirling greys out across the water and beyond.

I set the empty urn at my feet, then reached down into my cape and pulled out Negaduck’s mask. It was of the same satin material as my own, and it seemed to absorb all the light that struck it, pulling it into a dark void of blackness. It was, in every way, Negaduck.

I gently ran my hand over the material, feeling a deep pain in my heart as I felt the silky dark sensation under my fingertips. This enemy of mine, whom I had hated so much, had proved that there was a part of me in him, and a part of him in me. At one time, I would have found the thought hideous, and maybe even frightening. But not now, because I knew that part of ourselves that we shared was a love for our daughter, and no matter what else happened, that love would always be there.

Negaduck had been inhuman, and yet, at the end, I had seen a humanness in him. Not only as he was rescuing Gosalyn----I remembered that flash in his eyes when he had really realized how badly he was bleeding; that he was going to die. It had been a flicker of fear. Negaduck, for the first time in all the time I had known him, had been afraid. My heart ached to remember it, and once again, I was glad that I had not left him alone.

The tears fell harder as I mourned for him, for the part of myself I had lost; and yet, that one part of Negaduck would be the part that would never truly be lost. I thought of NegaGosalyn and my own Gosalyn, and the feeling of love for her reassured me of that.

I gently held the edges of the black mask, so like my own yet so different, and moved to the edge of the Tower. I stopped for a moment, hesitating. Somehow, this mask represented everything that Negaduck had been----who he truly was had been on the surface of his being in that blackness . . . and yet, it had concealed from everyone who saw him another small part of his heart. Just as real, but so hidden. His mask had even concealed it from Negaduck himself.

But, for just a brief, flashing moment, I had seen that mask lifted.

I took another deep breath, feeling the chill of the night beginning to descend. The sun had disappeared completely from the horizon, and the purple sky of the sunset was dimming to the black of night.

I turned slightly, back towards the city, the lights gleaming like fallen stars, and released the silk into the night and sky. I watched as the wind tossed and played with the blackened silk, twisting and turning it as if Negaduck’s mask was already a part of the night.

And suddenly, it vanished from sight, taken into the night and the lights of the city. A feeling of peace descended on me, though I didn’t know why.

As I watched the lights of St. Canard from my view atop the Tower, I suddenly gave a small smile. “Who knows, Negaduck,” I whispered to the wind. “Maybe we were right.”

Remember how I found you there, alone in your electric chair;

I told you what I knew----you never smiled.

You were lonely for a friend, I said *Take me as I am*,

‘Cause you might enjoy some madness for awhile.

Now think off all the years you tried to com-mit crimes to satisfy you.

I might be as crazy as you say.

If I’m crazy, than it’s true that you must be crazy, too;

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You may be right, I may be crazy.

But I just may be the lunatic you’re looking for.

It’s too late to fight,

It’s too late to change us.

You may be wrong, for all I know, but you may be right.

                                     ---Adapted from Billy Joel’s song &“You May Be Right”  

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