Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I need a break.”

Donald looks up from the staring contest he’s having with his coffee to give Drake an unimpressed eyebrow raise. It’s not very effective given the fact that his friend has been engaged in his own contest of wills with his meal, visibly debating whether or not to expend what little energy he has left on eating one more bite or conserving it for another sip of coffee.

The mallard has bags under his eyes that nearly put Donald’s to shame and his feathers are ruffled as if he just dragged himself out of bed (which, at 2 pm on a Tuesday, might be accurate). It’s blatantly obvious that between movie shoots, Darkwing Duck, and parenting, his fellow spy is two seconds away from falling asleep on his waffles.

Their snoring companion next to Drake, who did fall asleep on his waffles, is a testament to how desperately they need a break. Teal hands are slowly – almost robotically – moving Launchpad’s face out of the syrup so he doesn’t drown in his lunch (dinner? Linner??).

Donald drags his eyes to the exhausted Platypus sitting next to him. Perry’s eyes have glazed in a way that indicates the spy is moving on auto-pilot, the only indication of awareness that Donald can see is the fact that the auto-pilot was turned to helping LP rather than eating.

Donald sighs tiredly and not for the first time this evening. He had hoped that their bi-monthly ‘let’s vent about our jobs because we’re all friends and spies but vaguely because we’re all friends and spies’ meet up would re-energize him, but the air is saturated with heavy exhaustion and somehow Donald is even more tired than he was before.

There wasn’t any hysterical, wild-eyed ‘my family got abducted by aliens and went to space and I had to protect them the entire time without any of them knowing’ comments from Perry, no laughing ‘Steelbeak felt insulted by a blending machine so he punched it’ from Drake, and LP hadn’t said a word before crashing face-first into his waffles. Donald couldn’t even find the energy to brag about his family’s latest adventure.

“I think we all need a break.”

Perry makes a pathetic noise and Drake opens his mouth to argue. All at once, Donald feels a surge of righteous anger over the state of the people before him.

“Perry we will break your watch if we have to. The police and our agencies can handle a week without us. We’re going on vacation.”

 …

They pick Fenton up somewhere between talking about a destination and arguing about a time frame. Donald only has to take one look at the bird sleepwalking into his Uncle’s breakroom to pour more coffee into an already full mug to decide that he’s coming with them.

After that, it’s just a matter of getting the time off.

Donald strongarms his Uncle into letting Fenton have a week off. Drake and LP easily manage to get their break approved and scheduled. Perry, with his notorious track record of hardly getting vacations approved and nearly always getting calls during his off days, has to threaten a lawsuit with no small amount of pressuring from his spy friends. Thank god for Carl.

Uno is more delighted that Donald is taking a vacation than he should be evidenced by the fact that he already has resort tickets squirreled away and is quick to get more when Donald tells him who all is joining him. Donald observes his friend’s orb with crossed arms and narrowed eyes gleaming with suspicion.

“Don’t look at me like that Hero, I was going to recommend you take a vacation.” Uno sheepishly grins, “You haven’t gotten adequate rest for months and it’s extremely hazardous to your hero and civilian life.”

Donald’s arms drop to his side with a huff and a teasing grin, “Recommend or force to take a vacation?”

“I would never force you to do anything Hero.” Uno fakes an offended gasp, “If anything, I would have created a false mission where you would need to go undercover at a resort and stay there for some time in order to gather information.”

"You sly dog, you’re just as bad as Due!” Donald laughs.

"I am not!” Uno contradicts his assertion by turning pink.

In the end, Donald, Uno, Fenton, Drake, Launchpad, and Perry all end up at a resort in Georgia with all expenses paid.

“Wait, all expenses paid?” Fenton pales at the receptionists’ words. “Donald, how much did this cost?”

“Nothing.” Uno answers for him, “I inherited a fair bit of wealth from my Ma- my Father, and this place is one of them.”

“Wait what?” Donald blinks. “Really?”

Uno’s android head nods, “All I did was let them know we were coming.”

“I could have paid for my ticket, you didn’t need to-” Drake starts to insist with Perry backing him up with some frantic ASL “We have plenty of money, you didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” Uno stops them with a kind smile, “You’re very good friends to Donald and very good people too. Take a break.”

…

They’re all staying in a suite on the top floor. It takes up half the floor with the living area shared between four bedrooms and five bathrooms. Uno and Donald pair off and take a room while LP and Drake take another. This leaves Perry and Fenton with rooms to themselves. A fully stocked kitchen stands proud against the east wall while two couches, a dining table with eight chairs, and a large television make up the rest of the living room. There’s also a hot tub and floor to ceiling glass windows that make up the east wall. The friends take one look at the hot tub and unanimously agree to put it to use as soon as possible.

Uno snickers at the heroes practically purring at the warmth. They’re all in danger of falling asleep in it and Donald swears Drake is seconds away from letting the sandman take him.

“Where’s Perry?” Fenton asks, lazily winking an eye open.

“I believe he’s resting in his room.” Uno answers before getting up to check. He comes back moments later with a large, nearly-smug grin, “My guess is that he sat down for a moment and ended up falling asleep on the bed. I don’t think he’ll be joining you in the hot tub this afternoon.”

“They work him too hard.” Drake rumbles, lifting his head for a moment before sinking back into the tub. LP laughs, “Yeah, good thing Fenton didn’t sit down too, these beds are comfy!”

“Bed good. Hot tub better.” Fenton states, moving in front of a jet of water. His eyelids shut, and he makes a pleased noise before going limp and submerging fully in the water. Donald worries briefly about him drowning despite Uno’s watchful gaze. From the look on his face, Fenton might be a little too okay with drowning.

They pass the next ten minutes in comfortable silence before crawling out of the tub one by one.

“A nap sounds fantastic right about now. Maybe Perry had the right idea.” Donald yawns.

“I’m amazed he fell asleep so easily.” Drake comments.

“Why’s that?” Fenton asks, opening the fridge to dig for bottles of water.

“He doesn’t usually take to new environments like this so easily.” The mallard answers, rubbing a towel vigorously on his head feathers.

“Why shouldn’t he? We’ve got the world’s best spies and heroes all in one spot. This is the safest place he could fall asleep.” Uno raises an imploring eyebrow, quietly refuting any arguments that might suggest otherwise with just a look.

Something about his words resonates with the others.

Donald slowly turns to Uno. “You have eyes in the building?”

“Does that make a difference?” Uno prods.

No. It doesn’t.

Because he’s right.

Between Donald, LP, Drake, Perry, and Fenton, this room is the safest place in the country.

They’re safe.

They’re safe and there is no one demanding anything from them. There are no children to divide their attention, no lives on the line other than their own, and no unexpected call to action waiting, lurking just at the edge of awareness, for at least a week.

They’re safe.

…

Perry and Drake corner him that night during dinner after Donald leaves to go to the bathroom.

“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” Drake sips his beer. LP turns from his conversation about steaks with Fenton and both birds look on in curiosity.

“I had no intention of hiding it from you, but yes.” Uno leans his weight on their table so they can talk lowly. “The truth isn’t far from what I told you earlier. I did this because you’re friends with Donald and because you’re good people, but the rest of it has to do with his family.”

Perry frowns.

“I figured you noticed.” Uno remarks.

“We talk about the kids a lot, but he’s been quiet recently and he changed his language too.” Perry signs with a concerned energy about him.

“Damn.” Drake breathes, “I knew he was being quieter, Gos and the kids haven’t hung out recently, but I’ve been so busy…I should have noticed.”

“We knew something was up.” Launchpad added, patting Drake on the shoulder, “We just didn’t realize it was with his family.”

“He’s stopped coming to the bin so much, I thought it was PK stuff and he’d call if he needed my help.” Fenton worriedly glances around as he speaks.

Uno hums with a grin, “But you noticed.”

He gets four pairs of confused eyes and elaborates, “Donald’s family is, to put it delicately, pushing him out of the picture.”

“That was delicately?” Fenton remarks with surprise.

“They don’t realize they’re doing it, at least consciously, but I’ve been monitoring Donald’s home life.” Uno glances in the direction of the bathroom, “They’re not inviting him on adventures, the kids have been hanging off their mother since she came back, and while everyone lives in the mansion Donald is still living on his houseboat.”

“He’s not just being pushed out, he’s letting them push him out.” Perry scowls as he signs.

Uno nods and steeples his hands, “There have been…comments too. From his Uncle and from his sister. The children are picking up on it.”

“Not in a good way, I’m guessing.” Drake takes a long swig of his beer.

“There were comments he used to make about himself when we were in boot camp together,” Perry’s eyes are thoughtful and gentle, contrasting with the look of frustration on his face as he signs, “I knew it wasn’t great, but I was hoping it got better since he started talking to his Uncle again.”

“So, this whole vacation.” Fenton surmises, “It’s to get Donald into a physically and mentally relaxing environment.”

“No missions, no comments, just safety on all sides.” Perry adds to Fenton’s conclusion.

Uno beams, “Exactly. If it was just him and I, as I had originally planned it, it would have been fine, but Donald has always thrived among friends. The more the merrier, and I wasn’t lying about you all deserving a vacation too.”

“Well vacation or not, Donald is my friend and while I don’t like taking sides when my friends fight, Dew-man has been making comments that I don’t agree with.” Launchpad says, “I’m going to support Donald no matter what.”

Noises of agreement are made around the table.

“Well said.” Uno takes a sip of champagne, “So how do you feel about renting a boat tomorrow?”

Donald emerges from the bathroom at that moment as if summoned by the prospect of sailing.

“I’m grilling.” Drake declares.

“You can grill if you really want, DW.” LP concedes.

“No.” Fenton argues, “We have Launchpad. No one grills better than Launchpad.”

“What’s this about grilling?” Donald takes his place back by Uno’s side.

“We’re thinking about grilling tomorrow night on a boat.” Uno explains.

“I can grill!” Drake huffs.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I said LP is the best out of all of us.” Fenton snatches the plate stuffed mushrooms as soon as it arrives and helps himself.

“If Drake gets to grill so do I.” Donald interjects, passing the basket of breadsticks down at Perry’s request.

“LP is grilling.” Fenton passes the mushroom plate to Perry who abruptly has both his hands full of food. Drake takes pity and the breadsticks. Perry gestures at Fenton and raises an eyebrow.

“You give a man food poisoning once.” Drake rolls his eyes.

“Oh, Perry!” Fenton says, passing a plate of shrimp Uno hands him, “Can you teach me ASL? I took it in high school, but I haven’t had to use it since.” He sheepishly shrugs, “I know this is supposed to be our vacation, but I really would like to learn if that’s okay with you.”

“There’s a free online course I can show you.” Uno adds, shifting to the side as a server places his dinner in front of him, “Perry can be your conversation companion, not that he isn’t already.”

Perry nods, “That’s fine with me,” before turning to Drake, “So what’s this about food poisoning?”

“It wasn’t my fault.” Drake defends himself with a dismissive wave of his hand, “One of the other meals was bad, but Fenton’s brain associated it with my steaks instead of the real culprit.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Donald teases, taking a sip of his cocktail with a smirk before handing Launchpad the hot sauce, knowing the larger duck will want it for his meal.

“That explains Drake but not you.” Perry points out while munching on his potatoes.

“Donald’s grill exploded the last time he tried.” Launchpad grins and Perry’s raised eyebrows.

“That’s because Gladstone was there.” Donald defends himself. The platypus’ face turns sour and rolls his eyes. He’s met the Gander and he tries not to stick around for long if he knows the lucky goose will show up to make Donald’s bad luck skyrocket. It’s best to keep at least twenty feet away in such cases.

“Is that also why your houseboat was nearly eaten by a whale?” Fenton mutters, still sore over the loss of his Lengua in the middle of all the chaos.

“You don’t have a good history with grills do you, Fenton?” Perry huffs a silent laugh.

“Never a dull moment with these guys.” Fenton pouts.

“You love us.” Launchpad states with a chuckle.

“I do.” Fenton admits. “Even if more things explode in my face the longer I’m around you.”

“Oh come on, we keep you on your toes!” Drake knocks his shoulder into Fenton.

“I’m sorry, who started the phrase ‘pulling a Drake’?” Fenton sticks his tongue out at the mallard’s indignant sputtering.

“You all did it too! I don’t know why we’re still calling it ‘pulling a Drake’!” He defends against his friends’ laughter. “Texting the wrong person happens all the time!”

Perry, the little shit, shakes his head in amusement, “To you maybe.”

“Shut up, Perry! Everyone else did it too!!”

Their night closes out with loud, carefree laughter. It’s a good first day of vacation.

Chapter Text

“Am I doing this right?” Drake asks suddenly.

“Drake this is a lazy river, there aren’t many ways to do this wrong.” Donald lifts his head up to look past Perry and Fenton’s tubes to see his friend gazing up at the blue sky above them with a sad stare.

“I mean Gosalyn.”

At this, everyone’s attention is caught. Perry pulls off his sunglasses to meet his gaze, Fenton looks up from his study of the water, and Launchpad is elbowed awake from his nap by Donald. Uno is on dry land doing Uno Things leaving just the five biologicals floating together down the lazy river. Their arms are hooked over each other’s tubes so they can stay as one conglomerated unit and they shift positions with a strong tug from Perry and Launchpad, so Drake is floating closer to the center.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Donald prompts and Perry waves down a server for some drinks.

“With the whole…parenting thing.” Drake waves his arms, “I can’t tell if I’m doing it right, am I supposed to always be second-guessing myself? Isn’t it dangerous for her to be with me since I’m…me? Is this really what’s best for her?”

‘Am I really what’s best for her?’ He doesn’t say. They all hear it anyway.

“You’re the safest person for her to be with and the best compared to her other options.” Perry hands him a smoothie the server brings over. His eyes are narrowed, trying to figure out where the anxiety is coming from. “On the streets or with civilians is a definite downgrade for her. You’ve got the connections and the skills to keep her safe and happy.”

There’s no doubt in Perry’s mind that Gosalyn is safer with a SHUSH agent than a civilian. With the exception of Taurus Bulba, she’s the only one in the world who’s seen the blueprints for the interdimensional portal her grandfather built; and with her grandfather dead and Bulba being a more difficult target, she’s the most vulnerable for kidnapping attempts by those who would want the plans.

Drake is one of the best agents SHUSH has and would be the best if he hadn’t decided to remove himself from the underground life and make a place for himself as Darkwing Duck. Drake isn’t just her safest option because he’s a SHUSH agent, he’s her safest option because he’s the best SHUSH agent for the job. Both physically and mentally.

But the mallard has always been anxious about his people skills when it comes to helping those he cares about. Only Perry knows why.

“The fact that you’re worried and asking says a lot already.” Perry adds, “Take your own advice and ignore what they told you at summer camp. It’s fine to make use of what they taught us, but the second it becomes detrimental you stop.”

Drake does his best to frown at that, “Don’t throw my own words back at me.”

“You’re always going to be second-guessing yourself.” Donald comments, “You’re always going to wonder if you did the right thing or said the wrong thing or reacted the right way…that’s never going to go away.”

“She seemed happy to me last time I saw her. Healthier than the first time too.” Fenton nods.

Launchpad puts a hand on Drake’s shoulder, “We may not always do the right thing DW, but we try and when we make mistakes we apologize to her. She knows we care.”

“Gosalyn adores you Drake.” Fenton sips on his smoothie, “Anyone with eyes can see that.”

“Do you remember the look on her face when we showed up at the orphanage?” Launchpad beams, “She was so excited!”

The mallard perks up at their words, still hesitant to accept he’s being a good parent, but gaining confidence.

“What brought this on?” Donald asks.

“I was just thinking, I mean we left her to go on this vacation, and I kind of miss her.” Drake admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been checking in with her, but I keep getting the ‘I’m fine Dad stop being such a worrywart’ sass.”

“Oh, they hate it when we bug them too much!” Donald laughs, “I drive my – Della’s kids nuts when they’re away at a field trip.”

“We’ll call her tonight DW, she’s with Honker so you know she’ll be okay.” LP leans over to kiss Drake’s head and then apparently decides to pick the mallard up so he can hold him in his lap. They nearly topple over, but Donald rights their tube before they can capsize.

Fenton and Perry share a look and toss the now empty tube away, so Drake is marooned on LP island. Not that he seems to mind laying on top of his boyfriend and smiling like the sun.

“Okay.” He whispers, “I can lay off her a bit.”

Perry pulls his sunglasses back down, Fenton kicks his feet in the water, and Donald leans back against his tube. Behind them trails a tube that sinks low in the water from the weight of two ducks very much in love with each other.

…

“Do you want to talk about it?” Perry asks later when they’re both sitting side-by-side in the hot tub while the others are off doing their own thing.

“Do you ever worry you’ll ruin the kids by being around them?” Drake says to the mostly empty living room, memories haunting him from the shadows, “Or that you’ll just pass on your trauma to them?”

“Occasionally.” Perry reveals, “On bad days.”

They all know the blood on their hands isn’t the kind that’s washed away by stepping into the shower. It’s easy to wonder and easier still to worry that it will stain the kids that they hold close to their heart.

“I’m so scared I’m going to screw this up, Perry.” Drake shakes, “I’m terrified I’ll wake up one night and see her or LP as a threat and…”

“Give Launchpad a bit more credit,” Perry nudges him gently with a shoulder, “and yourself too. Even if it does happen, you know they’d forgive you.”

“I know they would.” Drake sniffs, eyes tearing up, “That’s the worst part.”

There’s not much Perry can do to help in this situation, other than offer an ear and a shoulder to cry on. He still hasn’t figured out how to help himself let alone his friend, who has always been much better about dealing with what happened at Summer Camp.

At least they’ve got each other.

“I know.” Perry confesses and the two secret agents lean against each other until the tears stop coming.

…

As grumpy as Gosalyn had sounded over text, she is bright and enthusiastic when they call.

“-and then we went swimming and I fought a goose, Dad! It was chasing Honker and I punched it right in the face like POW!” She narrates to him after LP hands him the phone.

Drake is beaming the entire time. He wonders what he was so worried about. Gosalyn is such a strong kid.

“Oh, Honker’s mom wants us to go to bed! I’ll talk to you later!” She chirps, her delight over her day evidenced by her cheery voice.

“Bye Gos, I love you.” Drake says, about to explode from all the love swirling in his chest for this little girl who found him as much as he found her.

“I love you too!”

The line clicks but Drake stays put for a minute so he doesn’t do anything embarrassing like run out of the room and tell the others how great his daughter is.

He just barely manages to limit himself to Fenton and LP.

…

Launchpad ends up grilling that night on the boat with no small amount of insistence from Fenton. Truthfully, both Donald and Drake were fine with him grilling but it was fun to see Fenton so adamant about something.

“Terrible, you’re all terrible friends.” He pouts, “My relationship with you is over, now LP and Perry are my best friends.”

“Oh yeah, how’s the ASL coming?” Donald asks.

“Great! I can mostly understand Perry now!” Fenton answers, signing while he does. He’s been doing it all day.

“Is there a reason you’re signing now?” Uno observes, “I was under the impression Perry can hear just fine.”

“Extra practice and…well, I sort of can’t hear very well out of my right ear.” Fenton shrugs, “I was hoping to start forming a habit just in case the other one goes.”

“When did this happen?” Drake demands, eyeing him with concern.

“You remember the shotgun on the money bin?” Fenton asks and everyone nods. Even Perry, who saw it on the news.

“And me nearly blowing up?”

“You did blow up.”

“And the whole kerfuffle in Japan?”

“You said you had that under control.”

“People change.”

“Who even says the word kerfuffle?”

“So you broke your ear from the noise?” Launchpad interrupts the 20 questions Donald and Drake are playing with Fenton.

“Between getting shocked, blown up, and testing a very large shotgun multiple times. Yes.” Fenton admits.

“Fenton!” Donald stresses.

“Is it just your right ear?” Perry stops Donald’s mother-hen rant before it can start. If he’s allowed to, the sailor will hover around Fenton all night demanding to know the whole who, how, when, where, and what spiel.

“I can hear better out of my left, but I think it’s gotten worse too.” Fenton answers, fidgeting with his hands, “M’Ma doesn’t know yet and neither does Gyro. You’re the first people I’ve told.”

Drake smacks his forehead in realization, “That’s why you’ve been calling from the Gizmosuit more often, it’s got better acoustics you can control.”

Fenton shrugs helplessly, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner. Learning helps me relax and it really is just a precaution. It’s mostly because I wanted to understand Perry, I didn’t realize it could be a back up in the future until later.

Donald groans, “And here we were about to celebrate you making it longer in one piece than the rest of us.”

“…What?” Fenton’s head whips up to look at the sailor.

“I messed up my knee about a month into being the Avenger, I still have to wear a brace every now and then.” Donald pats his right knee and brushes aside some feathers to reveal the white brace underneath.

“I developed a sensory processing disorder after four months. My handwriting looks like crap now and my hands shake sometimes.” Drake contributes, making a displeased noise, “Too many hits to my head.”

“I took too many hits to the head too. My mind doesn’t process things as fast as it used to.” Launchpad crosses his arms and glances away. Drake steals one of his hands and squeezes it reassuringly.

“I made it the longest.” He continues, “It wasn’t obvious at first, but we think it was between my eighth or ninth months.”

“Launchpad holds the record.” Perry signs, then taps the skin near his right eye, “I screwed up my right eye on my first mission.” He pulls out a glasses case and shows Fenton that one lens is thicker than the other before explaining, “Laser and a flash grenade.”

“And here I was feeling self-conscious because I thought I was the only one who had developed health problems.” Fenton’s smile is small, and his eyes are full of guilt as he speaks.

“Don’t feel bad, Fenton.” Donald scolds, “We should have let you know, so you wouldn’t feel like you did something wrong by getting hurt.”

“Between those events, I’d say you made it 6 months?” Drake guesses, looking at Fenton for confirmation.

“It became obvious after Japan, but the explosion and shotgun didn’t help.” Fenton nods. “I’d say six months is about when it became noticeable.”

“So, LP still holds the record, but you came close!” Donald declares, “We’ll still buy a cake since you made it longer than Perry.”

“Should I be disturbed or flattered that you guys made this a whole thing?” Fenton laughs.

“A bit of both is probably the healthier option.” Perry points out.

“I’d rather laugh than cry about it, honestly.” Drake huffs, “But in terms of the number of wounds nobody comes close to Donald.”

It’s less obvious to those who aren’t aware of Donald’s triple life just how many scars the duck has hidden under his feathers. Even then it’s hard to know just how many he keeps hidden, but the people in front of him have spent their fair share of time stitching him back together. They each have their own idea of just how many injuries Donald has sustained over the years and none of them are naïve enough to think he doesn’t gain more every other day.

“I don’t know, Perry spends a lot of time bleeding out in our bathrooms.” Donald teases. As rare as the occasion is that the agent shows up bleeding out on his or Drake’s doorstep, for someone like Perry, doing so just once can be considered ‘a lot’.

“That’s not saying much. Besides, Drake loses more fights than he wins.” Perry snickers back.

“That is by design and you know it!” Drake argues and indeed, Perry does. “Fenton’s been blown up more.”

“I wasn’t the one who included a self-destruct button!” Fenton defends.

“I’m just glad we’re all here in one piece.” Launchpad admits and none of them argue against it. They tease and laugh because of how grateful they are that the others are alive.  

Uno decides to remind them all of his presence by saying, “Donald has injured himself with his own equipment more than the rest of you.”

“I DIDN’T KNOW HOW THE SHIELD WORKED!” Donald defends himself and then backtracks, “YOU HAVE NO PROOF!”

“I have a recording of you punching yourself in the face with it.”

“TRAITOR!”

They close out their second night with more laughter and an overwhelming air of gratitude that they’re all together.

Chapter Text

It takes less than a day for the nightmares to start.

Uno had anticipated this. With the creation of a safe environment, traumas that the heroes had buried would rear their heads now that it was safe to deal with them. Donald and Fenton’s insomnia combined with the other three’s chronic nightmares makes for a lot of 2 am hushed conversations as their week continues and fortunately they’re able to catch up on sleep in the form of naps, though it leaves Uno in a bit of a predicament.  

He had been hoping for exactly that, for the group of friends to lean on each other and address at least some of their issues, so he’s mildly disappointed every time he steps into their shared living space to find everyone except Perry sprawled across the couches or slumped at the dining table.

It’s not that the platypus doesn’t ever seem to join them in their nightly conversations, it’s the fact that he never stays that tips Uno off that something is wrong. He can already guess what it is, he’s seen the spy’s files (even the redacted versions) and made some predictions, but this is going to require some calculated string pulling.

…

Perry wakes with a scream he chokes back down his throat as soon as his eyes fly open. He trembles, damp with sweat and pale from the lingering terror that seizes his lungs.

This is how it always goes. He has a night terror or panic attack that drives a pry bar into his cracks to wedge open his entire being before he’ll hear signs of life. Either a creak of wooden boards as someone turns in bed (the boys, Linda), soft murmurs of words (Candace trying to talk to her friend without getting caught, Lawrence muttering about antiques in his sleep, Heinz dealing with his insomnia by ranting quietly about a new -inator), or the beep of his watch (Monogram, never-ending work) – something that makes him slam his pieces back into place before anyone can notice there were ever any cracks to begin with. Recently, it’s been glasses hitting the table as his friends drink away their insomnia or quiet sobbing as they work their way through a nightmare together.

No matter how much he wants to go out and join them, no matter how badly he wants to seek comfort and give it in return, he can’t bring himself to leave the bed. He can’t show them his cracks despite knowing that he doesn’t have to hide them.

It’s a bad habit, one he hasn’t managed – hasn’t dared – to shake yet.

Maybe that’s okay, he thinks when Drake and Donald open his door and see him hunched over with his head in his hands.

Maybe he doesn’t have to, he thinks as they carefully approach him and lay soothing hands on his trembling frame, gently pulling him up out of damp sheets and guiding him to the living room.

He cannot let himself shatter. Not for his agency which cannot demand anything less than 110% from him for all the lives at risk. Not for his family who would love him unconditionally but can never ever know just how many cracks there are in his soul lest he be forcibly removed from their lives. Not from Heinz who holds himself together with duct tape he calls Evil and stitches he calls Revenge, who Perry trusts more than he should but depends too much on his façade of strength – ‘you are my rock’ – for Perry to even begin to show him how brittle his rock really is.

Here though, lying on the couch with Donald holding him delicately to his chest and Drake pressed firmly against his back - eyes on his 12 and eyes on his 6 - and no high stakes or secrets barring the way, he can let himself fall apart, knowing they'll hold him together while he rests. He doesn't have to be the best agent in the room watching for any hint of danger nor does he have to be boring Uncle Perry who doesn't have PTSD or nightly terrors that keep him awake for hours and neither does he have to be strong dependable Perry who never falters - never breaks.

He can just be.

…

Uno is very pleased when he finds them in the morning.

…

“Alright, who ate my ice cream.”

The flurry of hand pointing that follows would be comical were it not for the murderous look in Donald’s eyes.

“If you’re all to blame,” Donald says, cracking his knuckles, “then perish.”

Fenton screams when Donald charges him, the engineer unfortunately being the closest to the enraged sailor. The bird goes down with a helpless cry for mercy, taking a pillow directly to the face, and the other animals in the room take their chance to book it in different directions.

They’re spending the day in a small cabin deep in the woods near the resort so there’s not very many directions to go indoors which is why Uno takes Fenton’s unwilling distraction as a chance to throw himself out the nearest open window. Perry, opting for the quickest and more efficient route out of the enraged duck’s path, climbs on top of a dresser, well out of the angry duck’s reach, while Launchpad and Drake run down into the cellar before emerging through the outside entrance only to find an angry Donald Duck armed with a pillow for each of them waiting on the other side. Launchpad decides to sacrifice himself for his boyfriend by wrapping his arms around the smaller male to take the blows.

“I shall protect you, my love!” He declares.

“Launchpad!” Drake wails.

“IT WAS ROCKY ROAD YOU CRETINS!!”

It’s the last thing Uno hears before he’s deep into the forest and making his way to the nearest store for more ice cream. Maybe next time he wants to try eating with his android body, it shouldn’t be Donald’s comfort food. Then again, the friends were all smiling while they were pursued so perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

By the time Uno returns from his tactical retreat with more ice cream something has gone wrong.

The blinds of the cabin are shut and the door, which had been left open to let the warm fall air in through the screen door is now shut tight.

“Donald?” He knocks on the door, very concerned with the abrupt change in the air, “What’s going on?”

The door flies open, and Donald hauls him inside.

“Quick! Quick, don’t let it in!!” Drake hastens. The couch and tables have been upended to face the front door and the three ducks taking cover behind them look ready for an incoming enemy attack. Uno seriously wonders what he missed in the hour he was gone.

“Did you see it?!” Fenton yelps.

“See what?” Uno asks, stepping forward to assess the situation. The ducks look prepared for war against a home invasion of insects. Launchpad is wielding roach killer in one hand and a rolled-up newspaper in the other. Drake’s white-knuckled grip on a baseball bat betray their fear at whatever they’re planning on fighting, and Fenton has two spatulas that he’s holding defensively in front of him.

“I didn’t see it when I…” Donald’s voice trails off as Uno passes him.

“Where’s Perry?” Uno asks and Fenton points up at the dresser he had seen the platypus climb up onto earlier. The spy isn’t armed with anything, oddly enough, and is pressing himself further and further away from the door with a pale, horrified look on his face.

“Oh, there you are. Why are you all so scared?”

Donald makes a choked off noise and backs away from him.

“Donald?”

Drake shrieks when Uno turns around to face his friend, accompanied by scrambling from the direction of the dresser.

“Okay, no this is fine, Uno-” Donald makes a hysterical noise, “don’t - just don’t move.”

Fenton makes a noise that sounds like a dying mouse.

“I-I-I can get it.” Drake stammers with shaking legs.

“You’re not going to hit him with the bat!” Donald hisses.

“You’d rather Launchpad try the newspaper?” Drake demands, gaining confidence as he speaks and then losing it again for reasons Uno doesn’t understand. “Or – look it’s too big for the roach killer-”

“Too big? TOO BIG?!” Fenton cries. “We’d need a hose of the stuff for that thing! What are we going to do? Hit it with what we have and expect that to work?! I HAVE A SPATULA, DRAKE!”

“Okay, okay. Stay calm, I can try using the whole thing?” Launchpad meekly tries to sooth the others, as if he doesn’t even want to make the attempt.

“I’m starting to worry about your sanities, will you just tell me what’s going on?” Uno crosses his arms sternly and begins to move towards the kitchen to put the ice cream, that is surely melting at this point, in the freezer. There’s yelling from all sides as he makes his way to the kitchen, but he only stops when he hears the buzzing.

Out of the corner of his eye a blob of brown mars his vision and he turns his head just in time to see that it’s part of the mesothrax of a very, very big cockroach.

It flies off his back (ah, that would explain a lot actually) and approaches the wall near Donald who looks ready to pass out at the sight of it but manages to swing his broom to drive it in a different direction. Launchpad reflexively starts spraying the roach killer at it which it doesn’t take kindly to.

The cockroach erratically flies around the room, causing shrieks of terror and panicked scrambling from everyone to get away from it. Uno stares, analyzing it. It’s enormous, three feet long and a wingspan that easily doubles that, making it an extremely unusual sight.

Launchpad dives over the couch to get away from it with a screech and Drake tackles Fenton out of the way of its path. “Spray it! Spray it!” Donald yells.

Launchpad dutifully sprays in its direction, the others not wanting to get close with their short-ranged weapons. It flies away and Launchpad follows (at a distance) with the others trailing behind him. The ground they gain is lost, however, as the roach killer runs out and the behemoth of an insect doesn’t seem too badly affected by their attack. There’s a brief moment where the heroes stare at the empty can in LP’s hand and then raise their heads to look at the enemy that no longer has a reason to leave them alone.

All the color leaves their faces, and the ducks dart out the front door without looking back.

“I do not understand biologicals’ fear of roaches.” Uno admits, watching them trip over each other in their haste to escape. He steps over to the bug that has since landed on the floor and is now scuttling around the room.

“I’m sorry but you must depart.” Uno rolls up his sleeves and grabs one of its legs. It buzzes angrily and scrapes its legs against the floor to get away from him. In the process, it dislodges its leg from the joint and flees to the ceiling.

Uno wrinkles his nose at the smell and tosses the leg outside. He goes back to try again (perhaps if he grabs its body instead of another leg, he will have more success?) but he meets further resistance from the bug.

His android body is still new to him and he has been careful with it so far, but if he’s going to get the bug down from the ceiling, he’ll have to be a bit reckless. With one powerful jump he’s eye-level with its body and he latches on. His heavy metal frame yanks it off the ceiling.

Long brown legs wiggle desperately, throwing him off-balance. He drops it to regain his balance and he’s startled to see it turn around to face him, short but sharp mandibles launching towards his face (wait a minute, cockroaches don’t have mandibles, maybe it’s not-)

It falls to the side before they can close around his head, a knife sticking out of the side of its skull.

Perry wheezes from the top of the dresser, wide-eyed and short of breath. A shaking hand is extended with open fingers and another knife is already primed for throwing in his other. He sags back against the wall behind him and Uno expects him to calm down now that the threat is gone, but the platypus curls in on himself instead.

Germaphobia, Uno’s hard drive supplies him. Of course, it was a giant cockroach.

And now it’s dead on the floor.

The android leaves him up on the dresser and cleans up the mess on his own, hauling the body out the door and mopping up the acid from its body on the floor. By then the agent has calmed down considerably without the cockroach around.

“Do you want to go find our heroes or shall I?” Uno asks, handing him back the (bug brain free) knife.

Perry shakes his head, putting the knife back in its hidden pocket, and climbs down from the dresser, “They’ll come back eventually.”

“Were you up there that whole time?”

“I came down when I heard screaming, and then Donald, Drake, and LP ran in screaming about a giant cockroach.” Perry admits, “I climbed back up not long after.”

“I’ve never seen Donald so scared, except for that time a General’s daughter hinted at loving him.” Uno is pleased to see that brings a smile to Perry’s face. “She was the fiancée of someone he masqueraded as and found him more charming than her actual fiancée.”

“He’s so funny when it comes to love.” Perry chimes, “He attracts so many people to him without noticing and then runs for the hills as soon as someone confesses.”

He follows Uno into the kitchen to help him get started on dinner. It’s oven ready pizza, because none of them felt inclined to cook.

“There was a group in boot camp that would stare at him all lunch hour and I’m pretty sure half of every agency is still in love with him to this day.” Perry signs as they wait for the oven to heat. It wouldn’t surprise Uno, Double Duck is a legend and a modern day James Bond. If you weren’t in love with him or didn’t want to be him then you were in the minority.

“I’m fairly certain the Evronians think he’s married to the entire planet.” Uno says, unboxing the pizzas.

“Just give him another few years.” Perry snorts, “Everyone develops a crush on him at some point.”

“Even you?” Uno implores, curiosity piqued. Perry takes a seat at the table, staring fondly out the window where the four ducks ran off.

“Of course.” Perry rests his chin on one hand, “He makes friends faster than you can blink and once he’s your friend he’s with you for life. He’s stubborn but kind and he doesn’t take anyone’s shit when someone else’s happiness is on the line but...”

Uno has stopped unboxing the pizzas so he can divert all his power into listening and analyzing Perry’s words.

“I wish sometimes he’d do the same for himself.”

Uno lowers his gaze to the floor in sad agreement. Perry’s unique growl-chatter noise has him raising his head back to the agent again.

“You’re good for him you know.” Perry signs sternly, making sure Uno understands the weight of what he’s saying.

“He’s done so much for me.” Uno whispers, “I wish I could give him the world, but that’s not what he would want. So I…work with what I have.” He gestures at the space around him. “I just want him to be happy.”

“I’m glad.” Perry smiles, “I worry about Donald.”

“I worry about Drake too, but he’s in a good place right now.” He quickly adds, then continues, “You mean a lot to Donald.”

Uno feels a burst of pride at Perry’s words. Although he’s fairly certain he didn’t activate that programming, he’s grown used to feeling emotions he hadn’t plan to, especially around Donald and his friends.

“But if you break his heart, I’m blowing up your tower.”

Uno smirks at his words, “I expect nothing less, Perry.”

High pitched screaming comes from outside.

“Oh, I guess they found the body.”

Their third night ends well, all roaches considered.

Chapter Text

After the Roach Incident, they decide to spend the rest of their time in civilization where there aren’t enormous cockroaches lying in wait.

Launchpad doesn’t mind, so long as he gets to spend time with his friends and boyfriend. He likes holding Drake’s hand in the lazy river, playing water polo with Fenton and total strangers, reading in a hammock next to Perry, and water skiing with Donald.

He might be a bit biased, but his favorite thing is waking up next to his boyfriend in the morning and knowing they’re both safe. Having Drake’s head tucked under his chin, one arm thrown over his chest, and drooling into their shared pillow is the best thing in the world right next to having Gosalyn sprawled between them.

He loves it when Drake places butterfly kisses on his face to wake him up. He basks in the feeling of love he gets from the mallard’s carefree laughter when Launchpad kisses his neck and he revels in the happiness that comes in the shape of a little girl with red hair and a soft-hearted man that looks at him like he hung the stars.

Launchpad’s family loved him, even if he crashed planes instead of landed them, but he’s never felt this adored before in his life.

Finding Scrooge after being let go by SHUSH had been a relief but he had been so lonely in those five years living out of the old duck’s garage. He was mostly left to his own devices and he had been miserable the entire time he wasn’t driving Scrooge around. Going from being busy most hours of the day to having almost nothing to do was unsettling.

Webby had been interested in Launchpad’s presence for the first six months he was there and then she was running off and doing her own thing. Then the Duck kids had come, and the mansion brightened considerably with the addition of Scrooge’s family and Dewey was a welcome friend but even he had better things to do than spend every day with Launchpad.

Then there was Drake.

Handsome, strong, brave, amazing, incredible Drake.

Launchpad doesn’t know how he did it, but to have someone like that look at him with nothing but pure dedication and love is miraculous.

Drake chose him to be his partner in hero-life and normal-life, to give him his heart, to trust him unerringly with his back while sleeping and fighting, to respond to every text and call with one of his own. Launchpad would cry over the sheer amount of love Drake seems to hold for him if he weren’t just as gone with the Mallard.

He wants to hold this man and be held by him for the rest of his life.

…

“Fenton?” He calls for his friend the next day in the early hours of the morning when Drake is still asleep and LP has forced himself to stop gazing at the sleeping bird’s face in order to get breakfast.

Perry, Fenton, and Donald all look up from their omelets. Uno doesn’t turn his attention away from the next omelet he’s making at the stove, but his does angle his head so LP has an ear pointed in his direction.

It must have been a rough night for them all to be up so early.

“Oh, well the more advice I can get the better.” He remarks, unfazed by his bigger-than-anticipated audience, “Is it too soon to ask Drake to marry me?”

Perry freezes mid-chew, Donald lights up like the sun, and Fenton nearly falls out of his chair.

“No!” Donald cheers, delighted at the news.

“Wait, are you proposing today?” Fenton asks, “I wanted to help you pick out a ring!”

“It has to be purple.” Perry continues to eat his omelet while he signs, “At least some part of it has to be purple.”

Donald pulls out his phone and starts looking for rings, “Do you think it can have a hidden compartment?”

“For a small weapon?” Perry leans over to look at the results, “We could probably fit a needle in it with poison coating.”

“I could rig something up if you can get me the ring.” Fenton joins Perry in hovering over Donald’s phone.

“That’s not what he asked,” Uno interjects. “Launchpad are you thinking of proposing to Drake?”

“Well…” Launchpad taps a finger against his thigh. “I really love him, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with him. We kind of already have a kid and live together but it’s only been a year and I was just wondering what you guys think.”

“Perry’s still in an 8-year relationship and they don’t even live together, I think between the two-” Donald is stopped by Perry smacking his shoulder.

“Oh my god, just ask him out already!” Donald complains. “But back to you LP, you both really love each other so I don’t think this is too soon or out of the blue.”

“Yeah, you guys are practically already married, this would just make it official.” Fenton adds, making grabby hands at the coffee pot until Perry relents and hands it over from his side of the table.

“You think he’ll say yes?” LP can’t help but wonder.

He gets flat looks from the other animals in the room.

He thinks that’s a yes.

…

Donald chokes on his tea that afternoon after LP goes to take a shower and leaves the others laying on the couches.

“Hey, guys?” Drake puts his magazine down, “If I asked Launchpad to marry me do you think he’d be okay with it?”

Perry takes refuge behind his book, but Fenton can see his shoulders shaking before he has to take cover himself and press his face against the back of the couch to hide his mirth.

“Is that a no?” Drake questions, a little disheartened but mostly confused by the reactions he’s getting.

“I think he’d be okay with it.” Uno says while patting Donald on the back to help with the choking.

“I get to be your best man, right?” Perry puts his book down.

“What?” Donald hollers, “No! I get to be his best man!”

“Gosalyn is going to be my best man.” Drake steps in and neither can argue with that, so they drop it.

“Speaking of Gosalyn, have you asked her?” Fenton brings up, knowing full well that Launchpad called her earlier to ask the very same question.

“I’m going to call her tonight, I wanted your guys’ opinions first.” Drake answers.

“You’re not worried about it being too soon?” Perry, the madman, echoes LP’s earlier worries.

“Well you’re still in an 8-year long rela-” Drake mentions before Perry waves him off.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to know.” He signs with a huff. Donald laughs at him.

“When were you thinking of proposing?” Uno prods.

“Our anniversary is next month, so that gives me plenty of time to pick out a ring.” Drake hums in thought. His friends share a look and resolve not to persuade either lovebird from changing the date, with any luck one of them will be able to catch them both proposing at the same time on camera to tease them mercilessly about later.

“If you want to go ring shopping hit us up, we’ll help you out.” Fenton mentions, really hoping Gosalyn  picks up on what’s happening.

…

She does.

She finds it just as hilarious as they do.

…

Fenton is approximately four drinks in at a bar when Launchpad starts doing his best to imitate Perry’s growl-chatter.

“Grrrrkrrr”

“Grkrkrkrkr”

“Gurkuurrrr?”

“Grkrkrkr”

“Grkurrrk”

He’s not very successful.

“Give it up LP, it’s a Perry thing.” Donald says, face down on the table with his fifth martini held close to his side.

“But what if we need to imitate him for a mission?” Drake defends his partner, “Like a distraction, ‘oh he went that way, I heard him’?”

“We haven’t worked with Perry in years, what makes you think that will change?” Donald argues.

“He could join you for a hero mission.” Uno supplies.

“Grkrkrkr”

“Don’t be like that Perry, just once? For us?” Donald lifts his head to look at him pleadingly.

Perry shakes his head and points at Fenton.

“No, Fenton is not joining us for a spy- oh I get it.” Drake realizes and leans heavily into Launchpad’s side.

“Isn’t it harder to go from hero to spy than from spy to hero?” Fenton questions, downing the rest of his drink in one go because ‘screw it’.

“Ehh, different kinds of danger and challenges.” Donald answers, linking an arm with Uno’s.

“Perry doesn’t like being the center of attention. He’d rather be the unsung hero ‘cause he gets embarrassed when people watch him.” Drake teases. Perry rolls his eyes in response.

“Fenton would have an easier time being a spy than I would being a hero.” He signs.

“Awww, thanks Perry.” Fenton coos, “We should hang out more, us third wheels gotta stick together!”

“Fenton you know you have a thousand fan clubs right?” Donald reveals.

“They don’t want Fenton, they want Gizmoduck.” The Latino sticks his tongue out. Perry makes a sympathetic noise.

“You all have fan clubs.” Uno states, wrapping an arm around Donald and pulling him into his lap when the duck decides he’d rather hang off the android’s neck than sit in his chair.

“Yeah but not for us. You know?”

They know.

Uno waves down a server, “Can we get some water?”

Someone crashes against their table.

“What did you say to me?!” A large dog lifts the person up and throws them onto the table.

The wood shatters under their weight and only Perry and Fenton manage to save their drinks before the person is up and throwing themselves at the dog. The dog stumbles back into someone else’s table and two groups of friends begin to get involved.

Perry knocks his drink back and Fenton remembers his is empty before they both synchronously toss their empty glasses to the side and join the bar fight brewing in the room. Donald cackles and releases Uno to smash a beer bottle over a rabbit’s head. The only thing stopping Donald from completely joining the fight is the hold Uno still has on him.

Launchpad punches a rat that charges at him and Drake. Drake, who was swiftly moved to his boyfriends’ shoulder as soon as their table broke, follows up with a table leg he found.

“Come on Fenton!” Donald hollers enthusiastically from Uno’s hold, the android struggling to drag him out of the bar, “All those internships with no pay and Gyro overworking you has to have lead to some pent up anger! Let it out!”

Fenton, who had been trying to avoid the various fights going on around the room and help bystanders get out the door, freezes at his words, “But I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

An orange foot plants itself into the face of a cat about to attack the hero. “He gets like this during bar fights, just keep doing what you’re doing Fenton.” Perry smirks before throwing himself back into the fray, clearing the way for Fenton’s bystanders.

Donald cheers his friends on right up until Uno manages to get him out the door. Launchpad, Drake, and Perry cleanly move around the room with smooth movements, helping Fenton encourage people to leave and coaxing some out from under the tables.

It’s not until Fenton hears Drake loudly singing along to the ABBA soundtrack playing over the speakers that he realizes they’re fighting to Mamma Mia. It nearly costs him an eye when he doubles over with laughter at the absurdity of it all. Fortunately, LP stops the fist aimed at him before any damage can be done.

“This should be our theme song!” Fenton yells at the other three.

“Hey! Watch for glass on the floor!” Drake calls at one point before going back to ABBA.

“I don’t wear shoes, Drake! What do you want from me?” Fenton argues with an answering “Grkrkrkrkr” from Perry.

“Gurrkrrrkurr” LP tries, holding a rat in place while Drake smashes a new (where is he getting all these table legs??) table leg over their head.

“Grkrkrkr”

“G-”

“ARE YOU STILL TRYING?!” Fenton bursts into laughter again at his friends’ antics, “IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT?!”

It doesn’t help that Perry is encouraging it with an innocent look on his face while he drives his heel into someone’s neck. Fenton winces in sympathy.

The whole fight hardly lasts ten minutes with the spies and heroes putting a stop to it. Even drunk, they manage to hold their own. In the end, the four are the only people left in the bar that are still standing when the police show up.

They give their statements and with the testimony from the people outside confirming they were helping rather than hurting, they’re let off the hook.

“Haha! Yes! I love bar fights!” Donald cheers while they walk back to the resort.

“You weren’t even there for most of it.” Launchpad chuckles, holding hands with Drake who is careful about the bruises on the pilot’s knuckles.

“Doesn’t matter, I love a good fight.” Donald beams. “It’s a good way to get the tension out.”

“You’d be better off sparring with your friends than roughhousing in a bar while drunk.” Uno grumbles, displeased.

“Yeah but I don’t want to hurt my friends.”

Uno and the others stop walking.

“Who do you want to hurt?”

Donald keeps moving.

“Donald?” Uno has never sounded this unsure of himself.

“You guys won’t leave, right?” Donald finally stops outside of their reach, leaving his friends under a light post and himself standing in the darkness, untouchable and unreadable.

“Why would we?” Drake probes, nervously glancing up at Launchpad in worry.

“It doesn’t have to be by choice.”

It’s Fenton who steps forward. “Donald, you know we can’t promise not to die, but we won’t leave you.”

“And even then, we’re not leaving without a fight.” Drake declares.

“Yeah D, we’re with you no matter what happens.” Launchpad adds.

“We’re here because we like you, Donald, and for no reason other than that.” Perry startles everyone by speaking, though no one calls attention to it.

Donald turns to face them, tears in his eyes but finally within their reach again.

“Donald.” Uno extends a hand to him, ready to pull him into the light with them, “We’re here and we’re staying. For as long as you’ll have us.”

Their fourth night passes with bruised knuckles, big grins, and more than a couple tears.

Chapter Text

They decide to spend their fifth day at the casino.

“Do you remember Vegas?” Drake gives Donald a sneaky grin, “When you asked me to marry you.”

“Ugh no. I don’t want to talk about that.” Donald groans into his hands to Drake’s amusement.

“Am I the only one you’ve proposed to or were there others before me?” Drake continues to prod, “Because as your fiancée I think I have the right to know.”

“Didn’t you call me about a wedding with Panchito and José?” Uno supplies, doing up his cuff links while LP shows Fenton how to do an Eldredge knot for his red tie. They’re all wearing black rental suits that fit them nicely and since Drake had already called dibs on the purple tie, Fenton went with a crimson red.

“I got a text about you accidentally marrying one of your targets.”  Perry emerges from the bathroom in a three-piece suit with a teal tie in a trinity knot. He and Launchpad are the only ones that got the three-piece suits, while the others stuck with two-piece suits.

“Just how many people have you married, Donald?” Fenton asks, watching Uno’s fix his tie into a cape knot.

Donald grumbles something under his breath that Uno must hear because he gapes, “You don’t know?”

“I was drunk half the time!” Donald defends himself. “And how was I supposed to know that giving someone a knife would mean I want to marry them?!”

“Did you marry an alien?” Perry asks, perplexed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Donald responds.

“Well I do, spill the tea, Donald!” Drake eggs him on.

“Let’s just assume he’s proposed to everyone at this point and move to a different topic.” Launchpad tries to help. Donald facepalms.

“…Launchpad did he propose to you?” Drake asks slowly.

“Well…” Launchpad taps two fingers together, “Yeah.”

“What?” Fenton complains, “And you haven’t proposed to me yet?”

“He proposed to me too.” Perry doesn’t help. “Bar night got a bit out of hand. I think I might have said yes.”

“He proposed to me as well.” Uno also doesn’t help. “Too many painkillers, I believe.”

“I did not!” Donald argues.

“Too bad, you’ll never know for sure.” Uno smirks and begins to walk out of the room to head to the casino.

“Uno?!” Donald calls, uncertain of the truth.

“Donald, do you not love me?” Fenton whines with a gleam of mirth in his eyes.

“Yeah, Donald let Fenton into the harem.” Drake scolds good-naturedly.

Donald pouts the entire way to the casino.

…

It doesn’t take long for them to go their own ways. Gambling is a mixture of probabilities and people skills and their strengths are all different. Perry, Drake, and Launchpad head to the cards tables while Uno makes his way over to the machines. Fenton somehow manages to find a claw machine and Donald floats between his friends.

After his second round, he pulls Uno away from the machines. “You’re winning too much.” He says, ushering the android away.

“What do you mean? I thought that was the point?” Uno questions, but Donald drags him over to Fenton, who he also has to pull away for winning too much.

“Look, Donald! I got two watches, three pairs of earrings, a ring, and a new phone for M’Ma!” The genius happily shows them.

“The security here seems interested in us.” Uno observes. The men and women dressed in black and white are eyeing their group with wariness and they whisper to each other as they pass.

“Yes, because you’re not supposed to win that much, they’ll think you’re cheating.” Donald hisses. They just got here two hours ago, he’s not keen on being thrown out so quickly.

“But I won these fair and square!” Fenton huffs indignantly.

“I know, but that’s not – uh, oh.” Donald brings them to a halt as they approach Launchpad’s table. The large duck’s shoulders are stiff, and he has a slight frown on his face.  

“You see the guy with the green flowers on his vest?” Launchpad whispers as they get closer and they all look (with varying degrees of stealth - don’t stare Fenton, holy shit) to see the armadillo at Drake’s table.

“Yeah, I was thinking we could go to that Asian restaurant down the block.” Donald says a bit louder to throw off anyone that might be curious as to what they’re talking about.

“Ark Francis. He’s wanted for being the top banker for terrorist groups around the world.” Uno informs after scanning the man. Launchpad nods.

“Perry threw his hand to go back DW up, but he got sidetracked by a lion.” He continues, “They went towards the north side.” Fenton frantically starts looking for their teal companion and glances back with a worried frown when he finds nothing. Uno nudges Donald, confirming that the platypus is gone.  

Donald smoothly leads Fenton away from the table, leaving Uno with LP. “Okay, so this is not how I thought we’d be introducing you to spy work, if at all.” He says with a sigh once they’re far enough away from the others.

“How can I help?” Fenton says, determined and ready to help his friends in any way.

“We don’t know what that guy is doing here, it could be nothing or it could be huge, our priority right now is to find Perry and keep an eye on Drake, we have no idea what these guys want.” Donald says.

“I can find Perry.” Fenton offers immediately and Donald’s eyes soften at how much his younger friend wants to help.

“We’re both going to find Perry. LP and Uno have Drake covered.” Donald assures, “Do you remember the layout of this place?”

“Yeah, past the bar is the VIP lounge and the deck.” Fenton recalls and when they round the corner a velvet rope and curtains section off the VIPs from the general populace. A man with an iPad stands at the entrance, checking people in.

Donald curses, “We need a way in.”

“Well I do have three watches and a phone.” Fenton offers, but Donald isn’t sure he follows.

“A distraction can get us in, right?” He elaborates, “I’ll be right back.”

Donald watches him leave, curious to see what he’ll do and five minutes later a high-pitched whine comes from the other side of the room.

And then the fire alarm goes off.

Donald watches in awe as people evacuate, even the man in front of the VIP lounge. Strangely enough, no one emerges from the curtains.

“Sorry that wasn’t stealthier, it was my best idea.” Fenton says when he returns from the direction of the whine.

Donald shakes his head, “Not much else we could do without equipment,” and together they enter the lounge.

They burst through the curtains just in time to see Perry being ushered out of the emergency exit with an arm around his waist. The platypus catches their eye and signals that he’s fine for now.

“Come on, he’s fine.” Donald grabs Fenton’s wrist and they run back out through the curtains. “Let’s go find the others.”

“There you are!” Uno calls, running up to them with Launchpad and Drake close behind none of them looking worse for wear, “Ark has been dealt with, are you alright?”

“And by ‘dealt with’ he means I punched him once the coast was clear and Launchpad threw chips at him while Uno contacted SHUSH.” Drake elaborates. “Turns out he had no idea I was a spy and was just there because I looked good.” He shares a look with Launchpad before turning back to the others, “We figured the fire alarm was you.”

“It was Fenton, yeah.” Donald nods while Fenton puffs up with pride, “Perry has it under control.”

“They probably don’t realize he’s a spy either, if Launchpad wasn’t recognized.” Uno points out and the group of five begins to make their way towards the exit.

He makes a fair point, while Perry’s coloring is certainly unique, Launchpad has the most compromised identity out of all of them. He doesn’t wear a mask or an alias when he does hero-work with Drake and he didn’t use a voice modifier for spy-work like Donald. It wouldn’t be hard for past enemies to put two and two together.

When they emerge outside, it’s immediately apparent that a new problem has arisen.

“Is Perry going to be able to find us in all of this?” Launchpad worries, looking out over the sea of well-dressed people complaining about losing their chips.

“He’s got his phone on him.” Drake reassures dismissively, “I heard someone mention Asian food earlier?”

…

Perry meets them at the restaurant and waves a slip of paper at the table in lieu of a more elaborate explanation.

Donald practically pounces on it, “Are you going to tell-”

“No.” Perry interrupts, sitting down heavily in the chair next to Launchpad and undoing his tie.

“I can’t believe the best agent in OWCA got hit on by a criminal.” Drake snickers on Launchpad’s other side. “Monogram would have a field day.”

“It happened to Donald every other mission.” Perry points out with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, but none of them were on Interpol’s most wanted terrorists list.” Uno informs them quietly and Donald nearly falls out of his chair laughing.

Perry stares deeply into his water with uncomprehending eyes, the realization of what actually happened starting to sink in.

“I figured he was with Ark, but I had no idea he was so high up!” Donald squeaks, trying to reign in his laughter.

“Do you guys always get hit on during missions?” Fenton asks.

“Donald and LP did.” Drake answers, “Perry and I not so much.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the one being hit on by the banker for Interpol’s most wanted terrorists.” Uno recounts.

“You too?” Perry leans around LP to sign at his friend.

“It was more like he wouldn’t stop looking at me.” Drake groaned and Launchpad wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Forget that, Launchpad threw chips at the guy and Drake decked him, I want to know what happened to you.” Donald redirects and Perry lets him pull the conversation away from Ark.

“He flirted with me and then took me back to the VIP room.” Perry explains, “I wasn’t sure if he knew who I was, so I played along.”

“Uh oh, looks like your man has some competition.” Donald sing songs and the fur on Perry’s face darkens. He waves a flustered hand in Donald’s face to try to get him to shut up.

“Is he still evil?” Uno asks after Donald complies.

“He relapsed over the winter, but he’s getting better.” Perry smiles fondly.

“When do we get to meet him?” Launchpad asks.

“When he’s clean for six months.”

“Is this Perry’s mysterious boyfriend?” Fenton interjects and Perry goes bright red.

“No!” he rapidly signs.

“Yes!” Everyone else choruses.

“I hate you all.”

“You just don’t want Donald to propose to him too.”

“I thought we were done with this topic.” Donald groans.

“Not until you propose to me!” Fenton declares.

If Launchpad hovers around Drake more so than usual no one says anything about it. They can’t. The rest of them are too busy hovering around both Perry and Drake.

…

Their night is spent in front of the tv with food laid out in front of them and watching Telenovela.

Drake had resisted at first, but he was outnumbered and soon enough he was crying right alongside the others. The alcohol probably wasn’t helping him. Currently, he’s curled into Launchpad’s side and clinging to him like a baby monkey, “Promise you’ll never leave me for my long-lost twin brother.”

“I promise.” Launchpad sniffles, holding him close, and both of them knowing very well that Drake doesn’t have any siblings. The two lovers have taken up residence on one of the couches in the living room while Uno and Donald occupy the other.

“Don’t you ever leave me for Due.” Uno demands, suddenly very aware of the fact that he actually has a long-lost twin brother, “Please.”

Donald responds by holding him tighter, “Never.”

Perry and Fenton were left with the single seats but ended up sitting on the floor next to each other to share a bottle of vodka. Fenton mumbles something in Spanish that only Perry can hear, and the platypus pats the Latino on the back comfortingly.

And that, of course, is when the channel changes.

“This is breaking news from downtown Duckburg. An enormous purple ship has appeared in the sky above Town Hall. Sources cannot confirm whether this is a repeat from last summer or a McDuck Incident.” A green-feathered duck reports on-screen.

“They finally labeled your Uncle as an Incident.” Drake comments, “They should have done that after the first invasion he caused.”

“It was Magica’s fault and you know it.” Donald grumbles.

“We do not know what the ship is doing or if it poses a threat to our world as we know it-” The duck continues, “Oh, no, wait.”

The shot changes from the newsroom to the streets, a shaky camera looking up at the ship as little dots start to fly out of it. “It appears we are being invaded and this is a threat to our world as we know it.”

The group of friends leap to their feet, sobering at the sight of the Evronians attacking the city.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Donald yells angrily.

“The car is on its way with back up suits for you and Darkwing.” Uno says, “Fenton?”

“I’ll change when we get there.” He waves the android off.

“Perry?” Uno turns to the last member of the group, “Would you like to anonymously control the car?”

The look on his face says yes.

…

“WE WERE ON VACATION YOU ASSHOLES!” Is all the Evronians hear before an angry PK, Darkwing Duck, and Gizmoduck come flying at them. The poor grunts are tossed from one hero to the next if they’re lucky and thrown to the ground if they aren’t. Some wisely choose to play dead and others foolishly declare their loyalty to the empire before getting a metal fist to the face.

Those that escape the wrath of the heroes find themselves at the other end of the PK car and the Thunderquack, both of which are equipped with tasers and mechanical limbs that are quick to mow the legion of warriors down.

Two more Evronian ships show up in the chaos and the country watches in awe as two vehicles and three heroes single-handedly take down the alien invasion.

“Throw him over here!” Darkwing yells, and the PK car tosses an upper-class warrior his way. The large Evronian’s momentum is broken by a piece of metal rebar the hero of terror found on the ground.  

“We should do this more often!” Launchpad laughs, helping the Perry and the PK car haul one of the ships back into space using tethers.

“Hey Gizmo!” Paperinik calls across the battlefield, “Marry me!”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Gizmoduck responds, blocking a shot aimed at Darkwing.

When there are no more Evronians to fight and the ships have retreated back into space (willingly or otherwise) the group of friends regroup in the tower.

“I wonder what we missed while we were gone.” Fenton hums, “We’ve all been staying away from news sources since Monday.”

“I’ve missed 57 calls.” Perry signs, flicking through the messages on his watch. His finger stops and hovers over one particular message, “Apparently one of our Evil Scientists built a grow-inator.”

“Let me guess, it makes things grow.” Drake stretches and then pulls out his phone.

“Up to five times its size.” Perry glances at Uno who picks up on the message.

“So, if it hit an insect, by chance…” the AI follows.

“It would be very big.” Perry nods.

“Uh oh,” Drake says, looking at his phone. “You guys remember that bar fight?”

“Yeah.” Launchpad answers for all of them.

“Weapons deal gone wrong.” Drake holds the device up and everyone can see the photos of the two animals that started the brawl.

“Did we actually go on vacation or did we just ignore the chaos going on around us?” Fenton wonders.

“Who cares? I had fun.” Donald shrugs and he gets noises of agreements from around the room.

“I feel better than I have in forever.” Perry grins.

“So, we’re going to acknowledge that fact that Donald has proposed to all of us now and we’re collectively married, right?” Fenton teases.

“I’ll get the paperwork sorted out.” Perry offers.

“I’ll call Town Hall.” Uno adds.

“I get to pick out the rings!” Drake demands, but is quickly waylaid by Fenton who pulls out the three pairs of matching earrings he won and hands one to each of them, “Uno and I installed an emergency button on the backs, so we can call each other in emergencies.”

The earrings are gold studs with blue sapphires in them. Short enough to prevent any opponent from yanking on them and subtle enough not to draw attention.  

“Okay, fine but then I get to pick the cake!” Drake concedes.

“I’ll pick out the clothes.” Launchpad excitedly bounces in place.

“Worry about your own weddings first!” Donald argues, smiling wide and carefree. With that, Uno finally got exactly what he was hoping for with this vacation.

Their week ends in victory and delight, fighting side-by-side, and feeling lighter than they have in years.