Repository: Darkwing Duck

Chapter 6: Both & Neither & Somewhere In-Between

There was something strange, he thought, about the way people knew themselves. Or didn't know themselves, really. After so long knowing only Darkwing, it was hard getting used to being Drake again. There were many things he'd forgotten that were a daily part of most people's lives, things that were so normal they wouldn't even consider going without them. But he had, gone without them that was, since he was a teenager.

Freetime was one of those things. Now that Launchpad maintained his motorcycle and his automatic surveillance was improved, there just wasn't all the that much he could fill his days with when Gosalyn was at school. He could only nap and clean so much, after all, and Darkwing didn't go out in the day (he tried, but it felt wrong, and the light hurt his eyes).

So, freetime. It took a while, but he figured out some things he could do. Rediscovered the joys of television and mystery novels, took up gardening and made a game out of avoiding the Muddlefoots while he did, tried hobbies like baking and worked on his sewing. It worked, it was good, it...

Felt really weird, honestly. He preferred the weeks where he barely slept; filing reports for SHUSH that were overdue, preparing for events at Gosalyn's school, driving himself nuts over a particularly tough case... He felt more like himself.

Not that being Drake Mallard was bad, mind you, just weird. He found a peculiar joy in taking care of his house, in bringing the kids on non-super-related trips, in wasting time playing videogames or reading novels (he decided he wasn't much of a movie man), even in hanging out with Herb (occasionally). He'd never feel entirely himself as Drake, not the same way he did as Darkwing, but that didn't mean he didn't like being both.

Then Morgana came along. At first, she was a part of Darkwing's life, one of his villains. Then she reformed and, well... She was still mostly only in Darkwing's life, but she'd started being more on the Drake side of things. She preferred Darkwing, and that was fine, he did too. Drake was a part of him that he couldn't imagine losing again, but Darkwing was the bigger part. And if she didn't call him by his name, that was fine, it was barely even his name really.

If it bugged him just a little, well... He didn't see the need to say so. Maybe if he had, it wouldn't have ended the way it did. Wouldn't have ended in blasting and yelling and accusations, in her tearfully promising to do better, in him kicking her out anyways. Because while he knew she meant her words in the moment, his feathers were still smoking from her rageful spells.

Maybe nothing he did would've made it better, he thought, when the next time he saw her it was by Negaduck's side. A while later he finally accepted it, when Negaduck followed his example and left her, when she proved that it was always going to end with her magic on his skin.

It didn't stop him missing her, but it made it easier to ignore how sweet she could be when she wanted to. To ignore how much she honestly did try. To ignore everything that made him fall for her. Because his feathers weren't smoking anymore, but sometimes he woke up thinking they were.

He hadn't realized how much of his time he gave to his love until she was gone. The newfound freetime wasn't weird then, it was painful. Time once spent on walks beneath the moon, talking about nothing, him in his mask and her crackling with magic but both acting more like regular people than either of them had actually known how to be — it was empty, with nothing worthy of filling it.

He threw himself into his work, into spending time with Gosalyn, into hanging out with Launchpad. He sparked fights with thugs, went through Gryzlikoff's insane demands for training, anything to take up his time for just a little while longer.

But there was only so much he could do before he had to do something for himself. The space meant for her shrunk even if it never quite went away, letting him read, letting him play. Letting him garden, and sew, and bake. Letting him think, and clean, and learn to just let himself rest again. He started learning again to be more than a hero or a Dad or a friend or an enemy or a lover or a broken heart. He started remembering how to just be him. Not Drake, not Darkwing, but both and neither and somewhere in-between.

But he still didn't really feel like Drake most of the time. He was Darkwing, and Drake was something he was. Which wasn't the biggest distinction, he knew, but it felt important to him. Drake was a bin for him to dump the parts of him that didn't fit into Darkwing, but it still didn't feel like him precisely. If Gosalyn, Launchpad, the Muddlefoots were gone he'd still be Darkwing (more-or-less) but he didn't think he'd still be Drake.

Until Elmo. Elmo had been there all along, even if he hadn't known it until more recent years, yet he hadn't really been been Elmo. Like Drake, he'd become entirely his other self; Megavolt. And, like Drake, for one reason or another he'd started trying to be his first self once more. Drake wasn't entirely sure when they went from accidentally bumping into each other to planning meet ups, but it awoke something in him.

This was someone who knew him before. They were never really friends nor enemies back then, but they had moments of each, and Drake was surprised to realize just how close they'd really been. To Elmo, Drake wasn't some closed off mystery neighbor nor Darkwing's other half nor really much of anything else; He was just Drake, the excitable, mystery-loving kid who'd gotten surprisingly decent grades and never broke no matter how often he was bullied.

And Elmo was Megavolt, but calmer. Drake tried so hard to think of him otherwise, to return the favor he'd unwittingly been given, but he just couldn't. He found that it wasn't quite as much of a problem as it probably should've been. He'd always liked Megavolt as much as he hated him, friendly and antagonistic all at once, just like he'd seen Elmo in their school days but more extreme. More focused. Just more.

Drake was Gosalyn's dad. So was Darkwing.

Drake was Launchpad's friend. So was Darkwing.

Drake was Morgana's ex. So was Darkwing.

Drake was the Muddlefoots' neighbor. Darkwing thanked Ivia that he wasn't.

Drake liked baking, sewing, inventing, mysteries. So did Darkwing.

Darkwing was strong. Drake wasn't.

Darkwing was a valued ally of SHUSH. Drake wasn't.

Darkwing always came out on top. Drake didn't.

Darkwing easily stole the show. Drake couldn't.

Darkwing was a hero. Drake was just some guy.

Drake went to school. Darkwing didn't.

Drake collected comic books. Darkwing didn't.

Drake knew Elmo before Megavolt. Darkwing didn't.

Drake had free time. Darkwing didn't.

Little Drakey Mallard had been bullied, accidentally joined a gang, did well in school in every way but social. Darkwing hadn't.

In his past, something he had tried to not think about for so long, Drake found himself. He was a hero. He was a person. He was Darkwing. And he was Drake. And for the first time in his life, he actually felt like both.