Chapter Text
Launchpad swung open the door of 537 Avian Way, careful not to drop Drake. Gosalyn ran in ahead of them.
“Here, Dad!” She hurried to the couch and fluffed a pillow against the arm. “You can come lay down here while we get the first aid stuff.”
Drake groaned from where he stood, only upright because he was supported between Launchpad’s arm and torso. “We?”
“Well, yeah,” Gosalyn fidgeted with her hands. “I wanna help.”
“Don’t worry, Gos,” Launchpad gave her a kind smile as he helped Drake lay back on the couch, ignoring the small yelps and yowls coming from the injured hero. “I’ll take good care of him.”
“You, missy,” Drake said, once he’d found a comfortable position, “need to get up to bed.”
“Aw, but what if you guys need me?” Gosalyn whined.
“No buts,” Drake insisted, “except yours in bed. Don’t forget you have school in the morning, missy. You weren’t even supposed to be on patrol.”
Gosalyn drooped.
“C’mon, Gos,” Launchpad put a hand on the young girl’s back, directing her towards the stairs. “Come help me find the first aid kit, then I’ll tuck you in, alright?”
Gosalyn hesitantly started walking. “Are you sure you don’t need my help? I promise I'll still get up for school in the morning.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Launchpad said as he began climbing the stairs. “If you hurry to bed, I promise we’ll wake you up if we need anything.”
Gosalyn eyed him, unsure. “Do you promise?”
Launchpad straightened, bringing a hand to his forehead in salute. “Woodchuck’s honor.”
Gosalyn seemed content with this answer. She helped him dig through the bathroom cupboards for the first aid kit as she brushed her teeth. It was significantly larger than an ordinary family’s box of medical supplies, but hey, the Mallards and McQuack weren’t an ordinary family.
Launchpad changed into his pajamas while he waited for Gosalyn to finish getting ready for bed. On his way out, he grabbed a clean night shirt and put it with the rest of the first aid supplies. He knocked gently on Gosalyn’s door.
“Come in.”
She was sat up in bed, only the hockey lamp on her nightstand to illuminate her blank stare. Upon Launchpad’s entry, she forced her posture to relax.
“Do you think Dad’s going to be ok?” Gosalyn asked, trying very hard to be nonchalant.
“Of course!” Launchpad grinned. “Ol’ DW’s been through much worse on patrol before. He just needs some rest is all.”
Gosalyn nodded. “And you’re certain you don’t need my help?”
Launchpad looked into the girl’s face. Her brow was scrunched with worry and her eyes were heavy with fear. A sympathetic smile formed on his beak. “Positive. I promise I’ll take good care of him.” Launchpad held out a pinky.
Gosalyn slowly took it with her own, accepting his promise. She laid back in bed, exhaustion becoming clear on her face.
“You know, you don’t have to come on patrols with us,” Launchpad assured her as he adjusted her blankets around her. “If it stresses you out so much seeing him hurt.”
Gosalyn bolted back upright, her eyes wide. “No, I-I, I want to go on patrols!” she insisted. “I can handle it, I swear, it’s just-“ She looked down to where her hands twisted in the blankets, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to lose him.”
Launchpad ran his hand through the young girl’s red curls. “I know,” he assured her. But did he know? He took a moment to appreciate how small she really was. She had already lost so much. Launchpad couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must feel like to someone so young. “I don’t want to lose him either,” he admitted, unsure how to communicate his other thoughts to her. Launchpad opened his arms, offering a hug. Gosalyn crashed into them.
“But the best way you can help him now,” Launchpad told the young duck before he pulled away, “Is to make sure you get a good night’s sleep!”
“Ok,” Gosalyn finally gave in. She laid back down and pulled her blankets up around her. Launchpad turned off her lamp and was about to leave when she asked, “Can you tuck me in?”
Launchpad smiled, grateful that, at least for tonight, she wasn’t too old for his antics. “Tuck, tuck, tuck!” He announced as he tucked the blankets underneath her, securing her in a cozy blanket cocoon.
“Thanks, Launchpad,” Gosalyn yawned, allowing her eyes to close.
Launchpad gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and took his leave. He’d reached the door when he heard a small voice.
“Launchpad?”
He turned back to the little figure in bed, though he couldn’t make out much detail in the darkness.
“I don’t want to lose you, either,” the voice said. “I…wanted you to know that.”
Launchpad’s heart did a barrel roll. He took a moment to recover before promising, “You won’t.”
“Goodnight, Launchpad.”
“Goodnight, Gos.” And with that, Launchpad closed her door. He grabbed the first aid kit and the night shirt from the railing. As he made his way down the stairs, he made a silent vow to keep his last promise to Gosalyn, for as long as she would let him.
He spotted Drake on the sofa at the bottom of the stairs. He’d abandoned the hat and mask but was still in his slightly battered uniform. His eyes were closed, scrunched slightly in pain. Launchpad tip-toed past him to the kitchen. Maybe he could patch up Drake’s injuries without even waking him up.
Launchpad stuck the first-aid kit under his arm. He bent to grab a stool with his other hand, but the kit went clattering to the ground.
“LP?” a tired voice called out. So much for not waking him up.
“Be right with you!” Launchpad called back. He picked up the first-aid kit and managed to balance it on the stool, successfully carrying both to the family room. He placed the stool next to the sofa.
He took a seat, the first aid kit in his lap. “Where hurts tonight?”
“Aside from the fact that all of my bones feel like they’re on the verge of liquification?” Drake took a moment to look over himself, thinking. “Nothing too bad,” he decided.
Launchpad chuckled slightly as he started rifling through the first aid kit.
“As far as patching up goes, I think it’s just a burn on my chest,” Drake explained, touching a hand to the scorch on his costume.
“What about your knee?” Launchpad eyed Drake’s legs. “Seemed like you scuffed it up pretty good when you fell.”
“Pssh, it’s fine,” Drake waved it off. “What, are you going to rush me to the hospital over a scraped knee?”
Launchpad leaned in, inspecting the knee in question, ignoring Drake’s assurances. Sure enough, bruises were starting to form over the swollen joint. The skin was scratched up and bleeding.
“At least let me bandage it up.” Launchpad looked up at Drake. “We wouldn’t want it to get infected.”
“If you insist,” Drake shrugged. He wriggled slightly against his costume.
“Oh, here.” Launchpad handed Drake the night shirt. “I figured this would be a little more comfortable.
Drake accepted it with a simple, “Thanks,” and sat up slightly, struggling at the hem of his uniform.
“Do you want some help?” Launchpad asked, quirking a slight smile.
Drake grumbled, but relented, allowing Launchpad to help him out of his costume. Launchpad tried very hard to focus on helping Drake without irritating any injuries or letting his fingers linger a little too long in one place. It was like a real-life game of Operation. Launchpad hated Operation.
They managed to get one arm out, but when Drake bent to remove the other one, he yelped and clutched his side.
“Ah! Are you ok?” Launchpad grabbed Drake under his arms, helping him to lean back into a more comfortable position.
“Fine,” Drake said through gritted teeth. “I must have bruised the ribs or something. No big deal.”
From the look of pain on Drake’s face, it seemed very much like a big deal to Launchpad. But he said nothing, going back to helping Drake out of his uniform, going a bit slower this time.
Launchpad hissed as Drake pulled the night shirt over his head, taking in the severity of the burn. “That doesn’t look too good.”
Drake looked down at his chest and shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”
“Well, at least it’ll be easier to get to!” Launchpad chuckled. He gestured to how the too-large shirt hung off Drake’s collar. He realized he was staring and quickly changed his gaze to the first aid kit, pulling the disinfectant out. Maybe he just needed to stop offering Drake his shirts. He didn’t want to make the man uncomfortable. But it’s not like Launchpad was doing it for his own benefit! I mean, what benefit would he get? It’s not like Drake looked totally adorable wearing his clothes. It’s not like it made Launchpad think about how nice it would be if Drake was wearing it because he wanted to be. Because he was Launchpad’s boyfriend or something. That would be crazy!
A slight bead of sweat formed on Launchpad’s brow as he tried to focus on dabbing the disinfectant around the cuts in Drake’s knee. No, see, what happened was one time Drake complained about getting blood stains out of his own night shirts. And so, the next time Launchpad went to grab something comfy for Drake to wear while bandaging wounds, he thought, Hey! What if I get him one of mine? Then it wouldn’t matter if it got stained. Drake never said anything, though, so maybe he didn’t mind. Did he even notice?
“Thank you,” a soft voice pulled Launchpad from his thoughts. He looked up at Drake, who was staring down at his hands, fiddling with the shirt.
“What?” Launchpad asked, breathless. Was he thanking him for the shirt? Maybe he did notice. Maybe he found it really comfy and wanted to wear it more. Maybe he wanted more in their relationship. But then maybe he would leave. Maybe Launchpad would lose his most important friendship, all because he didn’t want Drake to worry about staining his shirts. Because of course Launchpad would ruin everything over something so stupid.
“Thank you,” Drake repeated, a bit more confident this time. “For helping me clean these up.”
Launchpad stared. Duh. Of course. Drake was thanking him for the first aid. It was silly of him to guess anything else.
“I mean,” Drake slowly continued when Launchpad hadn’t responded, “I know I could take care of it myself, but it’s just always, uh, nice to not have to, y’know?” He shifted slightly. “It means a lot to me.”
Launchpad shook himself out of his stupor. “Of course! What are sidekicks for?” He quickly went back to his work, digging through the kit for the right bandages.
“Launchpad,” Drake’s voice was so gentle it gave Launchpad goosebumps. “You know you’re not my sidekick, right?”
Oh no, already? Launchpad knew being Darkwing’s sidekick was too good to be true. He had just hoped he could hold on to this a little longer. Fighting crime and spending time with Drake and Gosalyn was the happiest he’d ever been! He could be himself around the two. And they never got mad at him when he crashed or messed up. But maybe they were just better at hiding it than everyone else. And now Drake was trying to let him down easy. Launchpad was about to tell him it was ok, he understood if Drake wanted him to leave, when Drake spoke again.
“You’re my partner,” he said with the softest smile.
Launchpad thought he might pass out. Drake wasn’t asking him to leave? Drake saw him as Darkwing Duck’s partner? A tiny voice in Launchpad’s head wanted to know if Drake wanted partner to mean anything outside of fighting crime.
“You mean it?” Launchpad asked, ignoring the tiny voice.
“Of course I do!” Drake insisted. “LP, I couldn’t do this without you! Any of it! Not crime fighting, not taking care of Gos, none of it!”
Launchpad was speechless. There was so much he wanted to say. But he was never any good at getting words to come out of his brain in a way others understood. Why couldn’t he just do things right?
“I don’t deserve you.” Drake’s voice was barely a whisper, yet the statement screamed through Launchpad’s mind.
“What?” Launchpad stared, dumbfounded at his partner, his spinning thoughts momentarily forgotten. “Who told you that?”
Drake wasn’t looking at him. “It’s pretty obvious, LP,” he said quietly. “You’re just… You’re so selfless!” Drake was gesturing wildly now, his face all screwed up. “You want to help everyone, and you put everyone else before yourself.” Drake folded his arms with a huff. “You’re the real hero, here.”
Launchpad couldn’t believe his ears. Drake thought he was a hero? But Drake was Darkwing Duck!
“And all I ever do is take advantage of it!” Drake threw his hands in the air, unable to hold them still too long. “Making you go on patrols, patch me up,” he continued, counting off on his fingers. “I even made you move in with me so I could adopt Gos. I’m-I’m-“ Drake seemed unable to find more words as he fiddled again with the shirt Launchpad gave him, tears welling in his eyes.
“Gee, DW,” Launchpad started sadly. “No one’s making me.”
Drake hazarded a glance at Launchpad. “What?”
“You’re not making me do any of it!” Launchpad insisted. “It’s all my choice! I want to go on patrols with you. I wanna help you out after you’ve been beat up! I wanna come home every day, here! To you and Gosalyn.”
Drake was staring at Launchpad, his jaw dropped, but it was too late. Launchpad couldn’t stop himself. Words that had been dammed up for months were now flooding out. “I wanna wake up next to you, every day, and get up just to make breakfast for you guys. I-I want to help you adopt her. I wanna be her dad too, I-“ Launchpad cut off when he saw Drake’s face.
“Launchpad, I-“
Launchpad abruptly stood up, the stool and first-aid kit crashing to the ground. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to- Forget I said anything.” Oh man, he’d really messed up now. He’d wanted to hold on to his relationship with Drake and Gos for as long as possible. But he just had to go and open his big dumb mouth and share his big dumb feelings. “I, uh, I’ll go get you some pain killers!” Launchpad turned to leave for the kitchen, but was stopped by a tug on his sleeve. He turned around to see Drake, his eyes wide.
“Are you- are you being serious right now?” Drake asked in a voice Launchpad knew to be nothing but sincere.
“Uh,” Launchpad rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. “Yeah,” he admitted.
“You’re not mocking me?”
Launchpad’s gaze shot up. “What? Why would you think that?”
“Because,” Drake resumed fiddling with the fabric of the nightshirt. His voice was so quiet, Launchpad could barely hear it. “That’s exactly how I feel.”
Launchpad was suddenly flooded with emotions he couldn’t even begin to describe. All he knew was that his heart felt the way it usually did right after a good crash. He barely managed to breathe out, “Really?”
Drake nodded slowly, still not making eye contact with Launchpad. “I’ve, uh, felt like that for a while, actually,” he admitted.
“Me too!” Launchpad plopped down on the edge of the couch. “Being with you is just… It’s so cool!” Launchpad rambled. “I don’t know, I guess it’s just like. There’s something familiar about being with you. Almost like we knew each other before,” he let his mind wander, trying to understand what he really felt when he was with this duck next to him. “Maybe in a past life or something. And maybe we were pals then, too.” Launchpad paused, forcing himself to quietly add, “Maybe we were something more.”
Drake was staring at him, his eyes wide. Launchpad cringed. He was about to say how crazy that was, that Drake should just forget about it, but Drake’s gaze had changed to something softer.
“Wow,” Drake squeaked, “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Alarm immediately filled Drake’s eyes as he clasped his hands over his mouth.
“Oh.” Launchpad chuckled slightly, scratching his chin as nonchalantly as he could muster. “Heh, why don’t you?”
Drake was quiet. Launchpad worried, yet again, that he had ruined everything. But after a moment, “What, from over here?” pierced the silence in a tone of annoyance that was usually reserved for criminals or Gosalyn after she’d broken something with a golf ball. “Bruised ribs, remember?”
Launchpad smiled warmly at this and slowly readjusted himself on the couch, hovering over Drake on extended arms. “Is, uh,” Launchpad faltered, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, “is this ok?”
Underneath him, Drake’s cheeks weren’t much better off. His eyes were wide as saucers. “Yes,” he breathed before quickly recovering. “Still too far away, though, am I supposed to do everything myself?”
Launchpad laughed slightly and lowered himself onto his elbows. He could feel Drake’s bated breath on his beak. He was about to close the gap when fear flooded back into his mind. What if this was all a huge mistake? What if Drake was just trying to be nice and didn’t actually want this? What if this cut short the little time he had left with his new family?
But Launchpad’s fearful thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as Drake Mallard kissed him.