Chapter Text
Launchpad’s driving seemed to be worse than ever.
Dewey Duck stared out the window, trying not to slam his head into it with every turn and swerve the limo made. Next to him, Huey was starting to gag into a barf bag. Gross…
Dewey was used to Launchpad’s crazy driving, but this was a little worse than usual. Launchpad was swerving in and out of the lanes, darting between cars, speeding at least 30 miles over the speed limit, he’d even hit a stop sign!
“Hey, LP, uh, I think Huey’s about to empty the contents of his stomach into your car.” He called out.
Launchpad glanced back at them - of course, letting go of the steering wheel and almost immediately drifting up onto the sidewalk, “Just hang in there, buddy! We’re almost to the mansion!” He said in his usual cheery voice.
Though something about his voice seemed off. Strained.
Launchpad turned back around just in time to grab the steering wheel and steer the car away from the building it was careening towards.
Huey retched again, dry heaving into the bag.
“Seriously, I think we need to pull over and give Huey a break.” Dewey said again.
“We’re almost to the mansion.” Launchpad repeated, his voice a lot more tense, almost angry sounding. Not a tone Dewey had heard often.
It scared him. The intensity in the red-haired duck’s voice.
It reminded him of… Well, he didn’t want to think about all that had happened back when he was 12.
“S-sorry, sorry!” He stammered, trying to banish the images of Lunaris, Bradford Buzzard, and the Phantom Blot from his mind.
Launchpad seemed to pick up on Dewey’s panic, because he turned around again, his expression softening, “Hey, no, it’s okay! I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, I’m real sorry. I’m just a bit… stressed, is all.” He glanced into the rear view mirror, a look of unease passing over his face before he looked back at Dewey, “I’m… I’m real sorry about that, buddy. I didn’t mean to scare you– AH CRAP!”
Launchpad swerved around a large RV at the very last second, then stayed focused on the road, frequently looking into his rear view mirror as though someone was following him or something.
Which wasn’t happening. That would be crazy. Nobody was following them…
Dewey glanced backwards through the back windshield, and his heart dropped straight into his stomach.
Behind them - swerving around all the same cars, and gaining on the limo fast - was a blank white van with tinted windows.
Someone was following them.
“Uh… LP…” Dewey said, his throat tightening, barely letting the words out.
No. No. No ! They were supposed to be safe now! FOWL was gone! The bad guys were gone ! This wasn’t supposed to happen anymore!
This wasn’t supposed to happen!
Dewey felt tears gathering in his eyes. Stupid… stupid… Whatever happened to the brave reckless kid he’d been?
“What’s up, Dewey? You oka– Oh.” Launchpad’s voice sounded distant, like he was miles away.
“Launchpad please tell me that van’s not following us…” Dewey said weakly, his voice shaking like a child’s .
Launchpad took a very sharp turn. The white van turned as well.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice…” Launchpad muttered, “Yeah, I think they’re following us.” Then his voice gained that strained cheerfulness again, “But don’t worry, I’ll lose ‘em!”
It was around that time that Huey vomited loudly into his barf bag. “Ugh… sorry!”
“Don’t worry about it, buddy.” Launchpad said distractedly, staring into the rear view mirror.
Louie, who had been zoned out, finally spoke for the first time in the entire car trip, “So, there’s a freaky kidnapper van following us?”
Launchpad nodded, “Yup.”
“FOWL?” Louie asked, not a trace of fear in his voice.
At the mention of FOWL, Dewey felt like someone had stabbed his gut with a knife made of pure terror.
It couldn’t be them it couldn’t be them it couldntbe them i t couldn t bethe m it cou l d n t …
“Doubt it. Most of the old FOWL agents are in prison now. Probably just Glomgold or something.” Launchpad said, but his voice betrayed his worry.
Warm tears dripped down Dewey’s face. No… no this was stupid . He quickly wiped them away before anyone could see them.
It wasn’t FOWL. FOWL was gone. Everyone from back then was gone. It was fine. It was fine, it was fine …
Dewey stared out the back window again, trying to slow his breath, stop himself from hyperventilating. Not in front of everyone. He couldn’t break in front of everyone.
He watched the white van, trying to ignore how his heart was shaking against his ribcage, every fiber of his being screaming “this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong”.
It was probably just Glomgold…
As he watched, the back door of the van slid open, and a man leapt out onto the roof of the vehicle. A man who was certainly not Glomgold.
Dewey watched as the-man-who-wasn’t-Glomgold-but-was-supposed-to-be pulled out a giant cannon. Or… No, it was a giant missile launcher.
Oh god… This was not good. Not good.
“MCQUACK!” The man shouted, loud enough to be heard through the car windows.
Launchpad looked back into the mirror again, eyes widening as he whispered a quiet, “ Fuck .”
…
The second Louie heard Launchpad swear, he knew something was seriously wrong.
Launchpad never swore. He went out of his way not to swear! Even when he’d been facing Bradford Buzzard, or Lunaris, or… or any villain, he’d kept his language squeaky clean.
So if he was scared enough to curse - in front of the kids - that meant something was seriously wrong.
That meant the crazy man with the missile launcher gun on the top of the freaky kidnapper van was a threat .
“Hold on.” Launchpad said, his voice full of urgency. No trace of the silly, carefree man he usually was.
Then, Launchpad absolutely floored it .
The car jerked forward, shooting down the busy street like… like… A really fast limo. And not a moment too late. Louie could hear the distant sound of an explosion, saw the brightly colored missile just miss the car, saw the tree it hit go up in flames, completely reduced to ashes.
Huey threw up again.
“Fuck.” Launchpad said again, “There’s no way we’re making it to the mansion…”
A grim look crossed his face, and he made a very quick u-turn, jostling the triplets around in their seats.
Then, the car rocketed downhill, straight towards the beach.
Other cars became nothing but tiny blurs next to the windows. Louie felt like someone was pushing him back against the seat.
But he glanced back - the kidnapper van was still following them.
The car skidded off the road, tires kicking up sand as Launchpad seemed to drive straight towards the water. He turned at the very last second, pulling up to a rather inconspicuous-looking food truck called “Lunch Pad.”
Launchpad climbed out of the car, and slammed on the window, panic in his eyes.
…
Sal sighed as he heard someone banging on the window again. Fourth time that day. God forbid he take a five minute break.
He stood up from where he had been sitting against the sink, and slowly made his way over to the front, grumbling about his stupid customers and their lack of common decency.
But when he made it to the window, he froze.
It wasn’t just some assholey customer desperate for a sushi burrito. That was Launchpad . And he looked really freaked out.
Sal slid the window open and was immediately greeted with about a hundred words in the first second.
“Hi Sal, I’m really sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a situation I need to handle, and I need you to take care of three kids. Scrooge McDuck’s nephews. Y’think you can handle that? Just keep them safe. I’ll be back. You’ll know its me by what I order. If someone comes up here that looks like me, but doesn’t order my usual order, do not let them in. Don’t let them know you have the kids. You got all that?”
Sal blinked, “Uh… You want me to hide your kids? In my food truck?”
“Well, they’re not my kids per se… But yes!” Launchpad gestured to the limo he’d been driving, where Sal could see three small figures through the window.
“Uh… I can do that. What kind of… situation are we talking about here?” He said hesitantly.
Sal was no stranger to Launchpad’s strangeness. Hell, within the first couple weeks of meeting him, he’d had to talk the man out of driving his car into the ocean during a bad manic episode. But this… this was really weird, even for him.
“Thank you so much. Again, don’t trust anyone unless they order my usual. Word for word. Got it?” He said, opening the car doors.
“Got it. What’s–”
Launchpad carried the three kids - probably in their older teens by the look of them - to the back door of the truck, which Sal quickly unlocked, pulling them into his kitchen.
The poor things looked terrified! One of them, wearing a red hat, was projectile-vomiting into a paper bag, one wearing blue was hyperventilating and frantically wiping at his eyes, and the third one just looked dead inside.
“Launchpad, what’s wrong?!” Sal asked.
Launchpad just looked at him blankly. “Best you don’t know. I’ll be back.” And then he ran up the hill towards a speeding white van.
Sal watched him go, before turning to the three kids sitting on his kitchen floor.
Well. This was certainly an interesting turn of events, wasn’t it?