One-Shot: Stages (Darkwing Duck)
Author: Patriciatepes
Title: Stages
Fandom: Darkwing Duck
Prompt: Hugs
Medium: fic
Wordcount: ~2100
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for previous one-shots, angsty moments
Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck or the images used here.
Author's Note: This is the fifth entry for The Queen of St. Canard series. This was also written for hc-bingo, using the "hugs" prompt. I'm starting to form a general direction for these one-shots, and I hope everyone's gonna be on board for this. Enjoy!
Stages
She wasn't sleeping well. Gosalyn, despite being in a bed, was now back to her passing-out-from-being-awake-too-long method of rest. Which, as anyone who had ever done that could attest to, wasn't really rest of any kind. Negaduck was restricting her access to the television. It wasn't a punishment, he was quick to explain, just a measure he was taking. Gosalyn had laughed when he had finished his explanation with "for your health." So, most days, Gosalyn sat upright in the bed, curled in on herself, and staring blankly at the room around her. The pieces of the decanter she had broken to fight Negaduck with were long gone. She was only allowed two hours of television a day, and Negaduck also got to choose what channels she could watch. All of that boiled down to the fact that he had finally taken the remote back from her.
Joe and Moe had come a couple of days after their fight, after she had learned about Honker. They had brought with them their requisite tub of warm water, with Negaduck in tow. When they had left, Negaduck turned his back to her, but Gosalyn hadn't moved. After a minute or two of no sound, Negaduck had threatened to bathe her himself if she didn't get up and do it herself. When she still didn't move, he threatened to put her back in a chair. When she remained frozen like a statue, sitting cross-legged on the bed, he had blanked. He screamed for Joe and Moe, who took the water-both looking confused-and the Mallard Menace had left with them.
Gosalyn remained sitting and aching, every breath hurting her, every thought tormenting her, after they had gone. As far as she was concerned, this was how she could spend the rest of eternity.
"She's not sleeping. She's not eating. She's barely even moving!" Negaduck all but shouted as he paced about Morgana's workspace.
Morgana stood behind her cauldron, arms crossed. "She's lost her best friend. She's grieving."
"She's already cried for him!"
Morgana rolled her eyes, and Negaduck let out a little growl. He whirled, ready to remind the witch who the boss was here, when she sighed, rubbing her forehead.
"Haven't you ever lost someone you cared about? Someone you loved?" she asked.
Love. The word made his entire being freeze up. He never knew what to do with it. Parts of him felt like they were dying whenever he thought of it, while other parts of his body seemed desperate to destroy whatever had caused it. But he forced all that down with a huff, thinking deeply.
"Something like that, maybe."
Morgana's eyes widened. Apparently, not the answer she had been expecting. Gosalyn had given him a similar look too, when he had told her that he tended to lose the things he… well… Did everyone think him a machine? Yes, he craved destruction. He craved chaos. He coveted wealth. But he was still flesh and blood.
"O-okay. So… think about that. Th-that loss. Don't you remember how it felt? How devastating it was? I remember… I remember when Dark died."
She was always careful to avoid using any wording that directed the blame where it belonged-right at Negaduck's webbed feet. The Mallard Menace knew it was a coping mechanism so that she wouldn't have to remind herself that she was figuratively sleeping with the enemy. He crossed his arms, waiting for her to continue.
"I cried, but that wasn't all. I hexed so many people. I broke anything I could just to feel some relief. I raged like a wildfire until I was too tired to continue. Then, when I came to you, I was hollow. I was like… like a husk of who I used to be. It wasn't until one of the other witches you recruited recognized me from school that I began to truly heal. She knew my story, and she didn't ask me to tell her. She only gave me a hug. She said nothing else. Just a hug. I swear, I must have held on to her and sobbed for at least thirty minutes. But… but then it was a bit better. It will never be the same, Negaduck, as when Arrow Kid was alive… but it can get better."
Negaduck listened to Morgana's testimonial with a skeptical brow raised. He put his back to the witch, considering her words. Was it really so simple? Was all his Gosalyn needed was a hug? His skin crawled just to think of the word. Gosalyn was always a free spirit, a rambunctious soul who would rather punch than anything else. He whirled back to Morgana and scoffed.
"So one magic hug and it's all better?" he mocked.
She ground her teeth. "Were you even listening? That's exactly the oppos-"
Negaduck waved her words off, turning and heading toward the exit. "I don't know why I bother. I'll figure it out. Ta."
He relished her frustrated scream leaking through the potions' room door as he hit the button for the elevator with a small smile.
Gosalyn was standing listlessly beside the bed. She was staring at nothing, though her eyes were pointed toward the black screen of the television. It felt like she had a lump caught in her throat that no amount of coughing and hacking could get rid of, not to mention that her chest felt… strange. It felt both heavy and hollow at the same time. Her brain was a storm of thoughts that all culminated in the same conclusion: "It's your fault." Every single thought she had had for the past several days ended with that sentiment. It was her fault that Honker was dead. If she had just played by the rules, if she had just taken backup, Negaduck wouldn't have her now. And Honker would have never had to go searching for her by himself-breaking the same rule she had broken.
The door opened and slammed shut. In the next moment, Negaduck was growling in annoyance.
"You didn't touch a bite of your food," he said.
Gosalyn blinked, staring over at the bedside table. A small paper plate with a sandwich was sitting there. She hadn't even realized anyone had brought her food. She shrugged.
"I'm not hungry."
Negaduck grabbed the sides of his hat, growling even louder. He let go, taking a deep breath. He strode forward until he was about an arm's length away from her.
"You won't bathe. You won't eat. You aren't sleeping, not really. You're committing the world's slowest suicide, Gosalyn."
"Good," she snapped. "It's no less than what I deserve."
"What?"
The Mallard Menace seemed genuinely shocked by her words. She put her back to him, tired of looking at his face. The concern she kept seeing on it whenever he looked at her sickened her. He didn't deserve to care about her, and she didn't deserve to be cared about.
"Arrow Kid is dead because of me."
"And how do you figure that? Last I heard, it was my fault."
Gosalyn balled her hands into fists. "It is. But… it's mine too. If I hadn't gone off on my own, then he wouldn't have gone off. He would still be alive if I just hadn't been such an idiot. I can't even go to the funeral and tell his parents that I'm sorry… whatever good that would've done."
"I sent flowers."
Negaduck said that last word as if he had had to force it out. Gosalyn whirled, her eyes blazing. She hated that he almost looked hopeful at this.
"What?"
"Anonymously, of course. I knew you'd try to fight me again if I sent them as me, and I couldn't very well send them as you… but I thought you'd might… I dunno…"
He muttered the rest of the sentence under his breath. Gosalyn shook her head.
"You're unbelievable," she murmured.
Negaduck took a seat on the end of the bed. "Look, I'm not nice, okay? I'm not good at it. I loathe nice. But I've told you… I've told you how I feel. Honestly, I thought I wouldn't care when I first got the news that Arrow Kid was kaput. I didn't care, honestly. But then… then I saw what it did to you. I don't want you like this anymore. You're in pain, and I don't know how to fix it."
"Well, just stop, okay? Stop trying to fix it. There is no fixing it. He's dead. My best friend is dead. I've lost everyone I've ever loved, and I'm alone, and it's all my fault. "
Negaduck stared at her, a little aghast.
"What?" she snapped at him.
He shook his head. "I can't believe I'm about to admit this… but Morgana was right."
Before Gosalyn could ask what it was he was talking about now, he reached out and grabbed her. She yelled at him to let her go, but her demands went ignored as he pulled her onto the bed. He maneuvered her until he was laying on his side of the bed, and she on hers. Only, instead of having their backs facing one another, like they usually did, Negaduck had his arms wrapped around Gosalyn, pinning her arms to her torso. Her head was a little lower than his, and she wiggled against his hold.
"Let me go!"
He pulled her in tighter. What the hell did he think he was doing?
"I mean it, Negaduck, if you don't let me go-"
He shushed her, holding her as tightly as he could. He moved one of his hands up and rested it against the back of her head, tilting it gently forward until her forehead was resting on his chest.
Oh. It hit her like a ton of bricks. He was hugging her. Negaduck, Mallard Menace and self-proclaimed ruler of St. Canard, was hugging her. Negaduck who hated everything pure and good and kind and fluffy… was hugging her. She went limp in his hold.
Then, she was crying. She felt like a crazy person. She hadn't meant to cry. But she was. She was positively sobbing. Negaduck tucked her in closer, stroking the back of her head. She wailed into his chest, and slowly, she felt the lump in her throat start to melt and the pain in her chest begin to lighten.
She had no idea when she had stopped crying, because she had fallen asleep. When she awoke, expecting to still be in Negaduck's arms, she was surprised to find herself alone. She knew she should feel relieved at that, but… she didn't. What she did feel was a bit better. Honker was still gone, but… so was the lump in her throat. And her chest still hurt, but… it hurt just a tiny bit less.
She stretched out and her foot caught something square at her feet. She sat up and found a box resting there. It was black and tied up with a blood red ribbon. She gently pulled at the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside there were two separate folded notes resting on top of a simple, chain necklace. The necklace was silver and had a gemstone-red, probably a ruby-as its only charm. She arched a brow. It didn't seem quite Negaduck's style. The notes were labeled as "rules" and "read this one first."
She opened the one indicated as the one she should open first and found a messy scrawl inside. It read: "Sorry I left. Business. But I've been working on this for you. Put the necklace on before reading the other note."
Gosalyn blinked. Then, slowly, she lifted the necklace and clasped it behind her neck. As soon as she did, the cuff on her ankle fell away. She gasped aloud. Her whole body twitched, as its first instinct was for her to run, but she fought it. There was a reason she had the second note. She opened it to find Negaduck's handwriting again.
"Thought you might enjoy a bit more freedom. Here's the deal. This necklace won't let you leave the building. It won't let you use weaponry, unless under very special circumstances, and it won't let you send any kind of communication with the outside world. Can't risk it. But you are free to move through this building, and I recommend you do so as Gosalyn, and not QW. That way, I can be sure that my thugs know to keep their mitts off."
He signed it with his name only. Gosalyn stood and moved, slowly, toward the door. No trap sprung. The electric trap didn't activate. Holy crap. Her mind was reeling. Not only had she cried herself to sleep in Negaduck's arms while he hugged her, he had given her a gift.
Her life was getting stranger by the minute. Not to mention, she was also going to have to ask him for a set of civilian clothes. That was going to be a fun conversation. Despite herself, Gosalyn felt herself smile, genuinely, for the first time in months.
Stranger still, her life…