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His eyes fell upon the TV, completely engrossed in the story. Webra Walters was telling the entire city how Darkwing Duck had saved St Canard yet again.
He watched the man himself, now dressed in his pink pyjamas, as he smiled triumphantly. He had his feet resting on the coffee table, arms behind his head and a relaxed posture, so different to the stance he had carried just a few hours ago.
The hero's pilot, was also stretched out on the sofa, leaning back into the cushions and eating a burrito. His eyes were more tired than the vigilante, but he seemed content with his efforts too.
His best friend, let her wild red hair flow back as she rested. It had been a long night for her, but her fuel never burned out. The eight year old could warm an entire country for decades on her energy alone.
She shoved his arm suddenly, sucking him out of his own joy.
"That's you Honk!" Gosalyn announced, excitement coursing through her veins.
Honker Muddlefoot blushed as a clip of Darkwing Duck short circuiting Megavolt plastered the screen. He could be seen clearly in the background, taking down Liquidator with half a ton of flour.
"Yes Honker. You did great!" Drake beamed down at him, his sentiment being utterly truthful.
"Ahem!" Gosalyn reminded, pointing to the video that just began playing on the news. This one showed Gosalyn with her back to her father, as he took on Quackerjack and she began snipping Bushroot.
"Yes, sure honey you did great too!" Drake sat up and ruffled her feathers. "I am very proud of you two!"
"Who says crime fighting is too dangerous?" Gosalyn asked.
"Me. I do. I'm the responsible adult!"
"But dad!"
"No buts! This was a one time thing! You could have gotten hurt!"
"But I didn't!"
"No! But the threat was there! Gos, if something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do. Promise me no more crime fighting!" He looked at his daughter with loving, but serious eyes.
"Okay dad."
"Thank you sweetie. Now go on. Upstairs! I'll tuck you in soon!"
"Okay." She hugged Drake tightly, before she rushed to her bedroom.
"DW? Are you proud of me?" Launchpad asked.
"Yes fine whatever. Now Honker, isn't it time you went home?" Drake questioned.
"Um... Sure Mr Mallard."
Honker didn't have the guts to tell Drake that he was already home. His real family hadn't even wondered where he was. It was three in the morning, and not one of them had so much had lifted a finger trying to find him.
That was the thing with the Muddlefoots. They never cared that much about Honker.
His brother, sure. Tank was their eldest and their first born. Of course he was their favourite. He got everything he wanted, from the bigger room, lots of toys, and his very own TV. Honker got a lot of things too, but none of them had emotional or sentimental value.
Most of Honker's prized possessions were things from the Mallards.
Just last week, Launchpad had taken him to the science museum in Duckburg. The pilot had taken time out of his day, to personally fly him there himself, and had spent the whole day exploring every arifact and display with keen observation and great care. Honker appreciated that so much. He knew Launchpad probably didn't understand half of the relics they saw that day, but still paid the utmost attention to them, because he knew it was important to Honker. The diligent sidekick had even bought Honker his very own dinosaur fossil from the gift shop. It might not have been a real fossil, but it meant the world to Honker.
Honker's best friend knew him better than anyone ever had. For Christmas last year, Gosalyn had saved up all her pocket money to buy Honker his very own desk solar system. And the Christmas before that, when Christmas was ruined by St Canard's Bushroot, she had given up all her presents, just to make Honker happy. She was the first person to ever really listen to Honker. Even when he was freaking out about something science related, which she wasn't particularly interested in herself, she sat quietly and waited for Honker to finish. Honker was usually interrupted, with him never being able to describe his passions before he was left alone. But Gosalyn listened. She knew what made her best friend tick, and showed her appreciation for him by giving him things that she knew he'd like.
And then there was Drake. Drake absolutely adored Honker. For his birthday last year, Drake had gotten him a scientific telescope. He taught him how to set it up, how to use it and spent many free nights staring at the stars with him. Drake was like his father that way. Herb tried sure, but he still thought his youngest was interested in toy cars and Legos. Drake saw what Honker really liked, and although he was usually laser focused on his daughter, he always took some time out of his day for Honker. Not only that, Drake trusted him. Drake Mallard had quite possibly the biggest secret in all of St Canard, and yet Honker was one of the few who knew about it. The last thing Herb had trusted him with was weeding out the garden.
"Honker?" The man himself asked, now tapping his webbed foot.
"Um... Sorry Mr Mallard. I'll go." Honker pushed his glasses further up his beak and stumbled towards the door. It was there he was stopped by Launchpad.
"Honker is everything okay?" Drake asked, concerned.
"Everything's fine Mr Mallard." Honker assured.
"Really? Honker can I ask you a question?"
"Of course Mr Mallard."
"Is this your feather?" Drake held a pale cream feather between his thumb and forefinger. It did indeed look like Honker's.
"Um... Yes Mr Mallard."
"And you are a science man aren't you?"
"Yes Mr Mallard."
"So you would agree that ducks only lose their feathers when they are under severe stress correct?"
"Yes Mr Mallard?"
"So you admit it's your feather, and you know that severe stress causes such wilting, so therefore I can only assume that you, my friend, are worried."
Honker stared, in shock. Being off on the marvelous adventures of Darkwing Duck, he had seen deduction skills better than the entirety of SHUSH. But it was still baffling that the man had figured out Honker was upset. And he had made Honker admit it himself. Drake Mallard was a genius.
"Uh... Maybe you ought to drop the superhero interrogation method DW. He is only a child." Launchpad seemed to know Honker was getting flustered from the whole situation. Launchpad had emotional intelligence, if any, and helped keep Drake in line, when he stepped over it.
"Right. Sorry Honker. But seriously, what's bothering you? I swear any other kid in the city would be longing for their bed right about now! It's three in the morning for crying out loud!" Clearly Drake had temporarily forgotten about his adopted daughter, who could currently be heard playing whiffle boy upstairs.
"It's nothing Mr Mallard."
"Honker. I am not letting you leave until you tell me!"
"Fine then I'll stay overnight."
"What? Is that the problem? You don't want to go home?" Honker stayed quiet. Why did his neighbour have to be so smart?
"Why not?"
"Because. They aren't... They don't... I mean..."
"Honker?" Drake suddenly turned sympathetic.
"I have been gone for five hours. Not one of them cared enough to worry. They're sound asleep in there." Honker pointed over to his house, where the sound of Herb Muddlefoot snoring could be heard.
"That doesn't mean that they don't love you."
"Yes it does. You love Gosalyn more than anything. You're always worried about her. They never worry about me."
"Honker. Sit down." Drake gestured over to the sofa, and spoke with a tone that wasn't too dissimilar to an earthquake.
"But Mr Mallard-" Honker pleaded, suddenly desperate to go home and away from the hero's wrath.
"Sit down." Drake repeated.
Honker finally did as he was asked and awkwardly perched himself on the blue seat.
"Honker. I know I'm a man who doesn't tend to get on with your father. But if there's one thing I know, Herb Muddlefoot loves you."
"Yeah right." Honker huffed. "He didn't even notice I was gone."
"I bet he did." Drake persuaded.
"But he fell asleep." Honker argued.
"So? How do you know that he wasn't out looking for you and fell asleep from exhaustion?" Drake countered.
"I ... I don't." Honker admitted.
"Exactly. And where's this so called proof that he doesn't love you? Has he ever told you that?"
"N ... No. But he hasn't told me he loves me before either."
"Actions speak louder than words Honker. He shows you he loves you through what he does."
"What, by ignoring me and letting Tank bully me all the time?" Honker scoffed.
"No." Drake stated firmly. "By giving you a roof over your head, a warm place to sleep at night and plenty of food. By keeping you safe and letting you do your own thing."
Honker lowered his head. He knew Drake was right.
"Listen I can't stand your father, but if you could see the way he talks about you, you would want to hug him." Drake smiles. "His eyes light up with pride, and he waves his arms around excitedly. He may not act like he cares, but he really does."
Honker blushes. "Do you really think so?" He asks.
"I know so." Drake states firmly. "Now go on off to bed." He orders softly.
Honker nods and slowly walks into his own house.
In the morning, Herb is first into Honker's bedroom. He looks incredibly tired.
"Honker!" He cried. "Thank goodness you're alright! We didn't know where you were! We spent hours looking for you!"
"Dad." Honker smiled. "I'm okay. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, just don't scare me like that again okay?" Herb says warmly, wrapping his arms around Honker.
Honker nods sympathetically. "I promise dad."
"That's my boy." Herb smiled sweetly. "I love you kiddo." He said, ruffling Honker's feathers.
Honker grinned widely. Drake was right. He looked into Herb's eyes earnestly.
"I love you too dad." And he meant it. Herb may not be perfect, but Honker was more than happy to call him his father.