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Chapter Text

Darkwing Duck reeled back from the punch. He glared at Megavolt. "That all you got?" The hero was clearly in a lot of pain, but he didn't show it. His eyes widened as electricity sparked between Megavolt's fingers. "Of course," Darkwing said dryly. He threw his fist at the rat, only for the latter to duck and electrocute Darkwing in the ribs. He yelped, falling to the hard ground.

Standing over him, Megavolt grinned. "Give up, Darkwing Dork!"

"Never!" Darkwing kicked the villain's feet out from under him. Rising from the floor, Darkwing whipped out his gas gun and took aim. "Suck gas evil doer!"

Dewey's stared at the television set with eyes as wide as his smile. This show was just about the greatest thing he had ever seen. Darkwing Duck was so noble and brave, and everything Dewey wanted to be.

He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich half way in his mouth, but he was distracted from the bite with the show. He had made the sandwich himself before coming to the garage to ask Launchpad to give him a ride to Waddle where Louie was. Dewey would've preferred a sandwich without crusts, but he didn't like to use knives. So he spread his peanut butter on his bread with a spoon and resided to just suck it up and eat the crusts.

When he had come down to the garage, Launchpad had an old television set playing some old cartoon. Launchpad was getting dressed for the day, so in the mean while, Dewey waited in front of the TV.

Finally take a bite, Dewey pulled himself from the screen. "Hey, Launchpad, what's this show called?"

Launchpad came from behind a curtain, patting down his shirt. He glanced at the TV and, seeing what it was, rolled his eyes. "Ugh. That is Darkwing Duck, the single worst show in all of existence." Dewey had almost forgotten that Launchpad didn't like him after being so stuck on the show.

Dewey frowned, but tried not to let Launchpad get his mood down. "How come I've never heard of it?"

"It only plays in St. Canard, but I get St. Canard TV, so..." The end credits song started playing, and Launchpad grumbled. He shut the TV off.

Dewey was about to complain when he thought over what Launchpad had said. "Wait, St. Canard? As in the most fortified city in the world? I thought no one was allowed in or out, and they're super secretive about everything. How do you get St. Canard cable?"

A smirk crossed Launchpad's face. "No one's allowed in or out without permission. I'm from St. Canard and I know people. Now come on, am I taking you somewhere or not? Quit wasting time talking about that caped loser." Launchpad frowned and started towards the limo.

Grabbing his sandwich, Dewey followed behind. "He's just a fictional character. And he's so heroic! Even when he gets knocked down, he gets back up. I mean, he's so brave to fight all those bad guys!" Dewey was giddy, practically skipping.

Getting the the drivers seat, Launchpad said, "Exactly. He's stupid. What kind of idiot keeps getting up, even when they're clearly defeated? I hate people who don't know when to quit."

Dewey was about to argue more, but a glare from Launchpad shut him up. He sighed and got in the limo.

...

Deep in an underwater lab, a certain scientist was getting ready to go grab lunch. He tidied up his desk, putting away miscellaneous tools (Did I borrow this screwdriver from someone? Eh, I don't remember, I'll just throw it in the drawer). He shuffled some loose papers, sticking them in a folder. One took one last check of his lab and shrugged. It was clean enough. Stepping towards the door, he flipped off the light switch.

Someone grabbed him from behind. He tried to let out a scream, but his attacker had their hand over his mouth. His body went stiff and he started hyperventilating.

"I'm going to let you go, and you're not gonna scream, call security or 911, any of that. Got it?" the figure whispered. The scientist nodded. "Good." The figure let him go, and the scientist let out a gasp. He spun around to face his attacker: A brown plumage duck in some sort of gear. "Now, You're Gyro Gearloose, correct?"

Gyro nodded, heart pounding.

"Good. Word has it you have something I want." The duck flipped the lights back on and walked towards the middle of the lab. He began digging through stuff, making a huge mess.

Gathering his courage, Gyro shook himself. "Wait, wait. Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Not even bothering to glance at him, the duck said, "Name's Fenton. You have an invention. I want it. So I'm taking it." Fenton stopped looking through things, deciding he was getting no where, and crossed his arms. "Where are you hiding it?"

Gyro tilted his head at the strange man. "Hiding what?" He took a deep breath. "I... um... would appreciate it if you didn't steal, sir."

"Oh, of course. I didn't know it would offend you. I guess I go home now and think about what I've done." Fenton shot him a dry look, his voice full of sarcasm. Fenton stepped towards Gyro and threw an arm over his shoulder. "Look, I need you're help, so I want to keep you alive. But if you're not going to cooperate, well, I can't make any promises." Gyro gulped and nervously nodded. "So, where are you keeping Project: Blatherskite?"

Gyro's eyes widened at the mention of the project. "Uh, well, that's not exactly public. And it's not done either."

"Well, then finish it. You're smart." Fenton jabbed him in the chest with his index finger before walking across the room. Gyro opened his mouth to speak, but Fenton interrupted. "Come on, we both know half the technology was stolen anyways, so don't get so defensive about it."

The chicken stopped. "H-how did you know that?"

Fenton waved the question off. "Eh, it doesn't matter."

"What exactly do you want with it anyways?" Gyro readjusted his glasses, frowning. Project: Blatherskite was potentially dangerous in dangerous hands, and Fenton's hands were most definitely dangerous hands.

"I want it because it's cool. It's looks pretty useful." Fenton smirked leaning against a desk. "Who knows when a couple of gizmos might come in handy for a bounty hunter like me."

...

Dewey and Launchpad entered Mark's lab to find him, Louie, and Owlson huddled around a train. Louie tugged on his brother's arm, dragging him over to the table. Dewey shot him a confused look. "Check this out," Louie whispered.

Leaning towards the track, Mark hummed at the train. It started moving at his voice at a steady pace. Dewey's eyes widened in surprise.

Mark put his hands on his hips and straightened proudly. "Sound powered train.

"Ha! It works!" Owlson yelled, a grin on her voice. The sudden loudness made the train race around the track. Dewey yelped as sparks flew. Glancing between the train and Dewey, Louie knocked his brother to the floor in defense. Shooting off the rail, the train flew through the air and lodged itself in the glacé of a nearby window.

Everyone was stiff for a moment. Owlson gave a nervous smile. That earned a glare from Mark. He sighed. "Well, it did work. Thanks Zan."

Gathering himself, Dewey pushed his brother off of him. "Thank you Louie, but I think I would've been find without getting the wind knocked out of me." Getting to his feet, Dewey dusted himself off.

Louie ruffled the middle triplet's hair a little too hard. "Just looking out for my little brother."

The three robots from the other day, Lil' Bulb, Jeremy, and Spot as Dewey learned their names were, ran over to the window. Stacking on top of each other, the got the train, but unfortunately the window was still cracked. They brought it over to their creator, who took it from them.

Mark looked over the damage. "Well, it'll take a while, but I think I can fix it." Spot climbed up to his shoulder while her brothers stood on the table.

"Ooh, can I help?" Owlson reached out for the invention, Mark pulled.

"Heh, no thanks. I can do it. You're not really a science person, so..." he took the train back to his desk, Owlson following behind. "I'm the most capable scientist in town, so if I wanted anyone to work on this thing, it's me."

Crossing her arms, she pouted. "Fine. I guess if you don't think I'm 'capable,'" she mumbled. She made air quotes with her hands.

"Can you build a really cool robot?" Dewey had almost forgotten Launchpad was there and assumed he had left. But instead, Launchpad was leaned up against the wall, scrolling on his phone when he had spoken.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Of course I can. I've got three right here!" He gestured at the bulbs, who each had a proud posture.

"No, but like, a really cool one." The bulb's turned red with anger. Launchpad held out his phone to the rest of the group. "Some guy named Gyro Gearloose made one. They're doing a demo this afternoon." The screen displayed a shiny, black robot looking thing, complete with a blue visor on the helmet and a big red G on the chest.

Looking it over, Dewey smiled at how amazing it was. Mark, on the other hand, did not feel the same.

"Gyro Gearloose! That hack! He thinks he can build a better robot, does he!" Mark went off on a frustrated tangent,throwing his hands in the air. He clenched his fists, let out a scream, and kicked at his desk.

Louie raised an eyebrow at the scene. "What's up with him?"

"Eh, it's a whole thing," Owlson said, rolling her eyes.

Mark crossed his arms and huffed. "Gyro Gearloose is the single worst person I've met, and that's saying something when you work with Owlson."

"Hey!"

"We used to be friends, but then he went and stabbed me in the back and stole half my notes and research. Don't let that pushover facade fool you, he's a no good trickster! He used to copy my homework when we were both interning for Dr. Waddlemeyer several years ago." He took a deep breath to calm himself.  After a moment he continued. "But it's fine I guess. That was forever ago." He was talking more to himself than anyone else. He marched towards the door. "Come on, let's go see this 'great amazing robot.'" Dewey didn't think Mark sounded like he was over it.

...

Inside the Gizmo suit, Fenton was hot an sweaty. He took off the helmet and gasped for breath. "Hey, doc, next time you should give this thing more ventilation." Running a hand through his hair, he gave Gyro a look.

Gyro nodded. "Noted. Um, are you sure a public demonstration is the best idea? Like I said, it's still in the testing stage and-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can just fix it with time. I know what I'm doing." Slipped the helmet back on, Fenton rolled his eyes. The sound of a crowd on the other side of the curtain caught his ear. They had set up for the demo in the park at the theater stage. "Well, you better get out their Gearloose." Gyro glanced from Fenton to the curtain, probably questioning to resist his captor. But he thought better of his and stepped outside. Fenton smirked. Good.

From his side of the curtain, he could hear Gyro making a small speech. Sounds of camera clicks were followed by the the hushed silence of the crowd. "And so, as a great addition to our amazing city, I introduce to you..." There was his cue. He rolled out from behind the curtain dressed in the gizmo suit.

The crowd cheered, except for a parrot in the front row who Fenton recognized as Mark Beaks. Others were with him too, a few kids and that girl Fenton hadn't bothered to remember her name after she kept trying to act like there was a thing between them. Cameras were recording the demo for the news and such.

Gyro glanced down at his notecards. "The B.U.L.L.Y. System! It stands for Biological Upstanding Legitimate Lieutenant Yoke." You are horrible at naming things, Fenton thought. "A suit with all the gizmo's anyone could possibly need. With this thing around, Gearloose Tech might just put the police force out of business, heh." Gyro laughed at his own joke, but stopped when no one else laughed. Clearing his throat, he moved on. "If my assistant here could demonstrate something for us?"

Fenton pressed a few buttons, and pie shot from the chest piece. He sighed. Literally anything else would've been cooler.

"Of course, there are still a few bugs, but as practice, B.U.L.L.Y. will patrol the city, watching for danger for now."

"Like a real life super hero!" the duckling in blue with Beaks said, smiling.

Gyro nodded. "Yes, I suppose, and-"

"Boo! Very negative feelings indeed!" Beaks shouted. He climbed up on stage, the owl following him. Fenton hoped he wouldn't recognize him with the helmet and suit on. "Who's to say that this thing won't backfire and blow up or something? And can you really pack that many things in one suit?" Beaks crossed his arms. "Something's bound to go wrong, Gyro." He said the inventor's name in a snarky tone.

"I don't agree, but I'm moral support!" the owl said, copying his body language.

Gyro looked surprised a moment. "Mark, you're embarrassing yourself. Just get off the stage."

"Oh yeah? Well, I bet I could make something a thousand times cooler than your Bully. And also that's a terrible name."

"Yeah, I know," Gyro said, sagging.

Beaks puffed up arrogantly. "Just you wait and I'll-" He was interrupted by his phone ringing. He stopped, pulling it out of his back pocket and reading the caller ID. He seemed indecisive on whether or not to answer it. Finally, he said, "Hang on, I have to take this." He climbed off the stage as he answered it. "Hey mom. Yes, I know I'm on TV..."

The owl glanced between her coworker and Fenton. "Uh, I'm gonna go too. Also, boo the B.U.L.L.Y. system!" She stuck out her tongue immaturely, turned, and followed Beaks.

Fenton smirked. Well, annoying both CEOs of Waddle wasn't his initial plan, but it was a nice bonus.

Chapter Text

Mark frowned, shutting the front door of his house behind him. He had to find some way to prove to everyone that he was better than Gyro. He had to invent something bigger and better than the B.U.L.L.Y. system. Mark tried to shake away his worries. It couldn't be that hard to prove he was better than Gyro. He was Mark Beaks after all.

"Markus? Are you home?"

Mark walking into the kitchen to find his mother leaning over the oven. She pulled some sort of casserole from it, the warm aroma filling the air as she set it on the counter. She smiled at Mark. "Hey, kiddo!" Emma took of her oven mitts and wiped her hands on her apron.

"Hey, mom," Mark said, moving to stand across the counter from her. He decided maybe she could help him with his problem. "So, mom, there's this issue I'm having..."

"You mean the issue where you think it's totally appropriate to climb onto a stage on public television and shout at someone about why you think what they're doing is wrong?" She smirked. "Honey, that's what the internet is for."

He turned red. "Uh, no- I mean, yes, sort of." Shaking himself, he tried not to be so flustered for being called out. "It's just, it's Gyro Gearloose! That guy gets under my skin just by existing. Did you know that he use to cop-"

"Copy off your homework when you were in science school or whatever. Yes, I did know that because you tell me all the time." Emma rolled her eyes and grabbed a knife. She began slicing through her casserole, only making the steam rise higher. "Really, Mark, how immature are you?"

"But he's up to something! I just know it!"

"Uh huh, so in the meantime, you just embarrass yourself." Mark gave her a deadpan look. She looked up from her food. Her expression changed to an innocent one. "Oh, by all means, you do you. You can do that if you want, I'm not stopping you. I just don't think that's a very good idea." She ran her hand along the countertop, making her way to Mark's side. She reached up to ruffle his hair playfully, as he had long since outgrown her in height.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious mom," Mark said dryly. He felt it was totally unfair that she was right. "Well, then what do you think I should do?" He crossed his arms.

"When I want the neighbor to know that I am a better cook than her by a million percent, do you know what I do?" She grabbed a plate from the cabinet and served a portion of casserole on it. She pushed it towards her son. "Instead of telling her I'm a better cook, I show her I'm a better cook. And then after I do that I rub it in her face." She smiled warmly at Mark, who couldn't help but smile back. "Instead of telling Gyro you're a better inventor, show him. Remember kiddo, it's not the critic that counts."

Mark nodded, thinking her words over. "Thanks mom."

"You're welcome. And, next time if you think someone's up to something, please actually have evidence instead of just climbing up a stage with your best friend and yelling about random things." She raised an eyebrow at him and he nodded, slightly embarrassed. She shrugged. "Maybe you could build a better robot suit just for fun, just to prove to yourself that you're better than him."

"I'm not just gonna do what he did. That was my whole argument, that that's a terrible idea."

"That's why you build yours better and just keep it to yourself."

Mark started to the door, grabbing the casserole plate. "Sure mom, I'll think about it."

"Bye sweetie, have fun at work. And tell Zan I said hi!"

Mark nodded and left the house. He thought about it. Maybe making a second robot suit just because could be fun. Not to mention, he could show he was better than Gyro.

...

"Wasn't that just the coolest thing you've ever seen!" Dewey beamed, walking back to Waddle with his brother. Launchpad had gotten bored halfway through the B.U.L.L.Y. presentation and had just left the boys there in the crowd. But Dewey didn't care. He was too ecstatic about the idea of the presentation. "He's a real life super hero! Almost makes me want to get into trouble just so he'll rescue me!"

Louie raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Where is Dewey and what have you done with him?"

Dewey's step was lighter. "I said almost. I can't wait to see him in action. He's gonna be brave and heroic and protect people!" He stared off dreamily. "Just wow."

Louie shoved his hands in his pockets. "He hasn't even done anything yet. What if it goes wrong like Mark says?"

Huffing, Dewey rolled his eyes. "Mark's just biased. I bet if the suit was made by any other person, Mark would think it's cool too."

"Whatever."

Speaking of the parrot, his car came rolling down the road. It pulled over to the sidewalk when he saw the boys. Mark rolled down his window. Dewey and Louie exchanged a look.

"Hey, there you kids are. I've started a new project, and I need you guys to go pick up some stuff from the hardware store." Mark handed Louie a sticky note with an ugly-written list on it, along with some money. Despite being a professional, Dewey didn't think he had very good hand writing. "Meet me back at my lab with the stuff."

"What project is it?" Louie listed his head at the note.

"I figured I'd fight fire with fire, so I'm making my own fancy techno suit! Of course, it's just a personal project, not to release to the public, but just to see if I can." Mark stuck his beak up proudly, as if he had already done it. "I'm not like that copycat Gearloose."

Dewey smiled, clenching his fists excitedly. "And then they'll be two super heroes!"

"Uh, I guess, but like I said, it's really just out of spite."

Shrugging, Dewey decided that was good enough.

"Alright, I'll see you guys back at the lab." With that, Mark rolled up his window and left the green and blue triplets.

...

Owlson was watching random videos on her phone with the Bulbs, relaxed on a bean bag chair, when Mark walked through the lab door. Her face lit up. "Beaksy, you're back. So, was your mom mad?" Owlson liked Mark's mom. She thought she had a good sense of humor and made good food, and that was really all Owlson needed to like someone.

"A little. But she gave me this idea. I'm gonna make my own suit, and prove to everyone here that I am the superior scientist." He walked over to his desk, not even bothering to look at her. He grabbed a sheet of blank blueprint from a drawer and started sketching it out.

Forgetting the Bulbs were sitting on her lap, she stood up from the bean bag. She caught the robots before they could fall enough to hurt themselves. "Sounds fun! Can I help?" She grabbed a pencil from a. Jar and moved to write on the paper, but Mark waved her hand away.

"Nah, I got it," he said, eyes stuck on the paper.

She frowned, crossing her arms. With an eye roll, she set the Bulbs on the desk and flipped on her phone. She lit out a huff, bored. Working with Mark, she often found herself bored, as he insisted he do everything, lest she mess something up.

Maybe she could record a video for Instagram or something. She pulled up the app and started. "What's up, peeps! I'm her with the one and only Mark Beaks and he's working on a-"

Noticing she was recording, Mark looked up and tried to grab the phone from her. "What are you doing?" She pulled back before he could quite get it from her. He frowned and reached around on the other side, this time successful. "You can't share this with people, or else I'll look like I copied Gyro." He narrowed his eyes at the phone, and it took Owlson a moment to realize he was trying to figure out how it worked.

Rolling her eyes, she took it from him and pressed the delete button. "Fine, I won't tell anyone." She added under her breath, "Jeez, you'd think the 'better inventor' would know how to use a phone."

"Maybe I should've sent you to go get the stuff instead."

Sitting up on the desk, she crossed her arms, pouty like. Lil' Bulb, Spot, and Jeremy glanced between the two adults. Mark worked in silence a good five minutes before Owlson spoke up again.

She glanced at the blueprints from the corner of her eye, looking over the design. She snapped out of her bad mood, admiring how cool it looked. "Ooh, what if you gave it roller blades or something?" She leaned over and drew circles under the feet of it before Mark could stop her.

Erasing them, he said, "No, that's dumb."

"What? Why? I think it's neat!"

"How would you control it?"

"Um, just learn how to roller skate."

"I don't know how to roller skate, and I'd be the one in it."

Owlson's face lit up. "Ooh, I could teach you! It's fun!"

"No thanks," he said, distracted in his sketch.

She clenched her fists, somewhat annoyed. She sat up from the desk and headed towards the lab exit. "Fine, if I'm not needed here, I'm gonna find something else to do. I dunno, I'll go make sure the hover boards are working or whatever." She left, slipping her phone into her back pocket.

"Uh-huh, have fun."

...

Once they had collected everything from the hardware store, Dewey and Louie moved to the checkout line.

"Okay, I think we've gotten everything on this list except..." Louie squinted at the note. "He wants a chocolate bar. I guess Mark's got a sweet tooth." Dewey grabbed a bar and threw it in the cart.

They were just coming up to the register when a ringing gunshot exploded through the store. Others in the store screamed, including the cashier. Dewey yelped and ducked at the sound of danger, while Louie's reflex was to stand in front of his brother. Dewey's eyes scanned for the source of the noise.

Three birds with black masks and wielding hand guns stepped towards the register. Dewey and Louie scooted out of the way fearfully. The leader aimed the gun at the cashier. "That was a warning shot! Now give us all the money in the register!"

The cashier shook fearfully, nodding her head. Her hands, previously raised above her head, moved towards the register.

Dewey watched the exchange with wide eyes, heart pounding loudly in his chest. Another fire shouted. Dewey winced. He forced himself a peak, just to make sue that no one was dead. Thankfully, no one was hit with the second one,probably another warning, but the robbers still stood at the counter expectantly.

The woman handed them the wads of cash, which they eagerly accepted. "Alright boys, let's roll out!" The leader smirked at the people, making Dewey tremble. "No one make a move!"

Suddenly, someone burst through the door, loud and proud. "Halt villains!" Dewey stared in awe at the figure. Slick, pitch armor, gleaming in the light of the building. Confident smile, only made more mysterious by the tinted visor. And the simple but daring red G on the chest plate, standing for the creator's namesake. The B.U.L.L.Y. system, a thousand times more spectacular up close.

In one smooth movement, the system extended an arm, taking out one of the robbers. The leader grumbled, lunging at the hero. He was made quick work of, a pie getting launched in his face. While he was distracted, frantically trying to wipe cream off his face, the system released an oil slick, knocking him to the floor. The third guy glanced at his friends before deciding it wasn't worth it. He raised his hands in surrender, stepping backwards.

The crowd set off to clapping and whooping loudly. The suit produced a rope, and the hero tied up the robbers together. He put his hands on his hips, proudly. Dewey and Louie watched in wonder. This whole time, Louie had his arm in front of his brother, blocking any potential danger. Dewey's heart raced with adrenaline, and he kind of liked it. He shoved past Louie's arm, letting out an excited cheer. Louie was taken back a moment, frowning, but Dewey didn't notice.

"No need to thank me! It's all in a days work for a super hero like me!" The mystery man in the suit grinned. People began taking pictures, calling friends and family to tell them about the experience.

Dewey maneuvered through the crowd to get closer to the hero, with some "Excuse me," 's and "Pardon," 's. When he reached the front, his eyes lit up at the magnificent figure. "Wow, Mr. B.U.L.L.Y. System! That was epic!" Dewey didn't usually feel comfortable talking to strangers, especially loud, but he was feeling unusually brave today, with all the talk of super hero's and such. "You are just the coolest person ever!"

"Uh, thank you, small child..." The hero stopped, thinking a moment. "You know, if you ask me, that's a pretty dumb name, not to mention it doesn't fit at all. Let's change it shall we?" He smirked before striking a pose. "How about, 'Gizmo Duck'!" He glanced down at his arm, as if reading some sort of scanner. "Since my work here is done, I must go!" And with that he left.

The crowd dispersed, still chattering about the event played out before them.

A ridiculous smile was plastered on Dewey's smile. "Gizmo Duck," he tried on his tongue. Louie finally caught up behind him. Dewey turned to the green triplet. "Wasn't that just the most amazing thing you've ever experienced!"

"I guess..."

"He just came in here and took all those bad guys down! And then he actually spoke to me!" Dewey took his brother by the shoulder and shook him around. "Do you know how cool that is! Not to mention his suit looks totally rad!"

Louie wobbled a bit, dizzy from Dewey shaking him. "Yeah."

"Good thing he was here, or who knows what would've happened."

"Well, I think I could've protected you well enough," Louie said, rubbing the back of his neck. He avoided eye contact with Dewey, only glancing back at him momentarily.

"Sure, but you couldn't have taken out the robbers." Dewey listed his head at his broth curiously.

"No, I guess you're right..." Louie shook himself, turning back to their shopping cart. "Uh, anyways, I guess we should grab these things for Mark then."

"Oh, and then I could tell him all about how great Gizmo Duck is, and then he won't be so upset!"

Side glancing at his brother, Louie raised an eyebrow. "Gizmo Duck?"

"Yeah, that's what he called himself. Pretty neat if you ask me." Dewey smirked.

"Wow, you're really worked up over this super hero stuff." Louie put their stuff up on the check out counter.

Dewey shrugged. Louie just didn't understand the appeal of someone as strong and courageous as Gizmo Duck.

Chapter Text

Over the next to weeks, the super hero that was Gizmo Duck took Duckburg by storm. On any radio station, news special, or magazine article, he was mentioned. Everyone was talking about the new robotic wonder. The headlines said it all. "Gizmo Duck stops criminals from robbing the bank!" "Gizmo Duck rescues cat from tree!" "Mayor gives Gizmo Duck key to the city!" And Dewey was probably his biggest fan.

The boy in blue was just putting the finishing touches on his letter to the hero himself as a thank you for protecting the city so diligently and when Louie walked into the room. Sitting at the kitchen counter, Dewey spun in his seat to face his brother. "Alright, all I need is a stamp and then my somewhat embarrassing letter will be off to Gizmo Duck!"

Louie dug around in the cabinet for a box of cereal. "You found out his address?"

"Yeah, it just took a little searching and then some, but I've got it." Smiling proudly, Dewey set his envelope on the counter and jumped down from the chair. "And before you ask, no I did not investigate into his secret identity. Though I was tempted, I refrained. Everyone deserves their secrets." Dewey followed Louie around the kitchen as he made his cereal. "I'm not heartless."

Whistling the tune to Darkwing Duck, Launchpad strolled in.

"Speaking of," Louie mumbled, glancing at the pilot. Dewey rolled his eyes.

Opening the fridge, Launchpad stopped whistling and groaned. "Ugh, I got that dang song stuck in my head! Thanks, Derpy." He gave Dewey the evil eye.

"Dewey, actually." Dewey avoided eye contact with the pilot as he corrected him. Trying to be brave was harder than he thought.

"Uh-huh." Launchpad didn't sound like he cared. Taking a can of pep from the fridge, he popped it open with a hissing sound. After taking a swig, he set it on the counter, right on top of Dewey's letter.

The boy watched silently as the condensation dripped onto paper. He frowned, questioning whether or not he should say anything. Just a few drops wouldn't hurt the note too bad, right? But the more he watched, the more he went on to overthink it. The envelope now had a small moist pool right where the address went, somewhat blurring the ink. Dewey quickly stole a glance at Launchpad then back at the letter. Maybe just asking him to move his drink wouldn't be too hard. Launchpad could be nice, Dewey tried to convince himself. Hard as it was, he convinced himself for at least a second. Dewey bit his lip, remembering the ever growing wet spot on his letter. Was he jut taking forever to think about this or was it all in his head? He shook himself. Be brave, he reminded.

"Uh, Launchpad?" His voice came out more cracked than a shattered window, but he pushed on. Launchpad glanced at Dewey, as if asking why the triplet was talking to. Him. Dewey was asking himself the same question. "Can you move your drink? It's sort of getting my paper wet."

"Of course."

Well, that wasn't so hard, was- And he's purposely spilling the side on it now. Dewey frowned, deflating. Launchpad held the can upside down over the letter, the orange contents spilling all over the counter. A grin crossed the pilot's face. "Oops. Spilt some." Dewey could only stare at the letter he had put so much time and effort into, now stained with sticky substance. Being brave turned out worse than he thought. "Hey, Bradford! I made a mess, come clean it up!" Launchpad called towards the kitchen door. Once the can was empty, he squished it down into a crumpled disk and threw it at Dewey's head like a basketball.

"Hey!" Louie glared at Launchpad, and Dewey got the sudden dread that Louie was about to make it a whole lot worse. "Number one, that most definitely not an accident, and number two, why are you such a jerk?" Louie marched towards the older duck. "Clean up your own mess."

"Fethry pays him to clean up our messes. What am I gonna do, not take advantage of that?" Launchpad leaned back against the fridge, arms crossed.

Louie clenched his fists, face turned red. "You do not get to treat my brother like that!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, didn't realize that offended you so much." The two exchanged a glare. "Though who knows if it offends your brother, he doesn't speak up much. Is he mute?" Launchpad stared past Louie to Dewey. He wanted to shrink into a ball and just hide forever. "I mean, I assume that's why you have to fight his battles for him."

"Shut up!" Louie tried to throw a punch at Launchpad, but h put his palm on Louie's forehead, holding him back. He gave Louie a deadpan expression as the green triplet kept trying to fight him off.

"Cute, kid."

Bradford entered the scene, looked over the situation, and frowned Dewey figured Bradford was used to Launchpad by now. Bradford sighed, shaking his head. "Honestly Launchpad, you are a child."

"Am not!" Launchpad was only proving Bradford's point, now sticking his tongue out at Louie. Bradford rolled his eyes, making his way to the spilt soda. He pulled the drenched letter out of the mess. Reading the label on it, he handed it to Dewey.

Taking one last look at Louie and Launchpad, Dewey frowned and sulked out of the room, the letter clutched in his hand.

...

Walking down the street, Dewey wondered what he was going to do with the letter now that it was ruined. His head down, he stared at the smudged ink and orange texture. He thought over the mess that led to this. He had tried to be brave and utterly failed. Surely Gizmo Duck didn't have trouble standing up to bullies. He never needed anyone to defend himself for him. He never had trouble simply speaking. Dewey sighed.

Looking up, Dewey saw a build board with a picture of Gizmo Duck sponsoring some product. Staring up at it, Dewey wished he could be a brave hero like Gizmo Duck some day. Dewey had already memorized all the statistics of how many criminals Gizmo Duck had thrown in jail since even just his first day. Of course, there was more crime than there had even been in Duckburg before, which Dewey found a weird coincidence, but Gizmo Duck had locked them all up.

A scream broke him from his thoughts. Eyes darting to the source, just across the street he saw a small family of three being mugged by the Sixth Avenue Friendlies. Dewey's feet froze to the concrete. Should he do something? What could he do? He watched as the tallest beagle held the dad upside down, shaking out his pockets for change. The mother and child's faces were stricken with terror. Looking from the beagles to the family, Dewey decided to make a move. Shaking away his fear, he took a step off the sidewalk.

But before Dewey had a chance to do anything, in came the dashing hero in black and red, Gizmo Duck. Pie launched fm his chest, stopping the beagle holding the father. Gizmo Duck deployed rope from his wrist, tying the three up. The family thanked him greatly before continuing on with their walk.

Dewey grinned at the scene. Glancing back and forth across the street, he decided it was safe to cross and did so. "Gizmo Duck! That was amazing!" The words left his mouth before he had even reached the other side of the road.

The hero ruffled the boy's hero. "No thanks needed, young citizen!" He even spoke heroically! Dewey's smile only spread wider. A small movement behind Gizmo Duck grabbed his attention. Something green passed from Gizmo Duck's hand to the criminals'. Money? Dewey shook himself. Probably a trick of the light.

"What have you got there, kid?" It took Dewey a moment to realize Gizmo Duck was gesturing to the letter. Dewey had almost forgotten about it, and now that he was actually in front of his hero, it seemed more embarrassing than before.

"Oh, uh, just a letter I wrote... for you." Dewey coughed awkwardly. "But there's soda on it, so..." Why was this all of a sudden so scary?

Without asking, Gizmo Duck took the note from him. He squinted at it, and after looking it over, his eyes widened in panic. "You know my address?"

Dewey's face grew red with embarrassment. "Uh, sort of, I went digging for it, but don't worry! I don't know your secret identity or anything! It was just for the purpose of mailing the letter, I promise!" He hoped he didn't come across as some sort of stalker.

Dewey thought Gizmo Duck almost looked impressed. "Greatly appreciated kid. Say, have you ever considered becoming a bounty hunter?"

What? "What?"

"Uh, not that you should!" Gizmo Duck stood up straighter, as if he had revealed some sort of crack in his heroic armor. "I just thought that you would be good at it with finding out my home address and all. Just a joke." He laughed, but Dewey didn't find it very funny.

"Okaaaaaay..." Maybe Gizmo Duck was just having an off day.

"Beep beep," Gizmo Duck said "subtly" into his fist. "Oh, hear that? More crime! I guess I've got to go! Farewell, citizen!" His helmet transformed into helicopter mode and off he was. Once he was up in the air high enough, the boosters on his back kicked in, leaving a trail of white smoke behind him.

Watching after him, Dewey wondered what it'd be like in the Gizmo suit. Probably sweaty with the DJ Daft Duck helmet, and flying would make Dewey puke. But it still looked cool.

"Alright, boys, let's get out of here."

It was then that Dewey remembered he was just a few feet away from a group of tied up criminals. Taking a few steps back, he realized Gizmo Duck had forgotten to take them off to jail. But Dewey didn't know what to do about it, so he just watched them from afar.

One beagle pulled at the rope, breaking it apart, and they got to their feet. Dewey thought Gizmo Duck's rope must be faulty. Dewey would have to tell him that next time he saw him. To Dewey's surprise, the lead beagle had a wad of cash in his hand. "Mr. Gizmo Duck certainly pays well. Boys, we're eating chicken nuggets tonight!" That was followed by cheers from the other two beagles.

Dewey hoped he'd misheard them. Forgetting his fears, he ventured to ask, "Wait, did you just say Gizmo Duck payed you?"

They looked surprised Dewey was talking to them. The third beagle scratched the back of his head. "Uh, hey, weren't we told not to tell anyone that Gizmo Duck is paying criminals to attack Duckburg so that he can stop them and everyone will think he's a hero?" That earned a slap to the back of the head by the lead beagle.

Eyes wide, Dewey mulled over what he just heard. He ran in front of the beagles before they could leave. "What! No, no, no, no, you must have it wrong." He waved his hands, shaking his head, too scared to admit they were right. "Gizmo Duck isn't pretending to be a hero, he is a hero." Was he saying it to the beagles or himself?

"Sorry to burst your bubble kid, but it's true," the less intelligent beagle said. Another smack.

"Shut up! Do you want Gizmo Duck to come after us!"

"Yeah, 'cause then we gettin' chicken nuggets!"

Smack. "Come after us for real, moron!"

Dewey watched their squabbles awkwardly. They broke out into a fight, almost catching the blue triplet in the mess. He narrowly avoided it, stepping out of the way. He looked up at the sky, where the white streaks remained trailing Gizmo Duck's flight path. Gizmo Duck wasn't a bad guy, right? Determination overcame Dewey. He had to get down to the bottom of this.

...

Following the trail, Dewey found himself at the Gearloose Tech building. The white steaks led around back. Coming around the building, he found a door. He hesitated, wondering whether or not he should even be snooping around where he could easily get in trouble. He nodded to himself, almost as if he were allowing himself to continue. Trying the door handle, he found it locked. Part of him wanted to stop there. He didn't know how to pick a lock anyway. But the real reason he didn't want to go on was he was scared. Scared his hero turned out to be less heroic.

He reminded himself he was trying to be brave. He couldn't be a coward forever. He didn't need a hero to be brave. He could be brave himself. He clenched his fists with determination. It would be better to just find out himself rather than just worry about it the whole time.

He scanned the area, trying to find some entry point. A small metal grate was positioned just a few feet from the door. Stepping over to it, Dewey could only imagine how claustrophobic it would be in there. But, with no other option, he figured he had nothing left to lose. Kneeling, he unscrewed the air duct grate, took a deep breath, and crawled in.

Darkness wasn't something he had accounted for, but it only added to the reasons Dewey thought this was a bad idea. Nevertheless, he pushed on through the dark, cramped air duct. Through another grate, light peered in. He scampered towards it. He could hear voices down below. He stopped, listening in, squinting through the vent.

Below him was an underwater lab of some sort. He could see Dr. Gearloose and just out of view, someone else.

"So, how's the suit running?" Gyro folded his hands, probably a nervous tick.

"Great. I almost blew my cover once, but I don't think anyone suspected a thing." Gizmo Duck rolled into view. He took of his helmet and climbed out the top, jumping floor and landing on his feet. He was a brown plumage duck, dressed in a black outfit. He grabbed Dewey's letter from the suit's hand. "Look, I've even got fan mail." He wadded it up into a ball and chucked it into a trash bin in the corner.

Dewey's eyes widened at the scene. He frowned, trying not to let it get to him.

The brown duck rubbed his palms together. "This hero plan is working better than I thought. No one suspects the sudden rise in crime, I've gotten so much free junk, and pretty much everyone trusts me. Soon, I'll have this whole city under my thumb." He put his hands on his hips proudly. "Take that Negaduck! While you took years to build your empire, I only built mine in a few weeks!"

Gyro listed his head. "Uh, who's Negaduck, sir?"

"Just this guy I knew. He was a real jerk. Anyways, later at the mayor's office, I'm going to get the key to the city. There's gonna be a whole ceremony and stuff." The brown duck moved to sit on the inventor's desk. "And I've decided that's where I'm going to pull off my biggest stunt yet! And also, you gotta wear this."

He handed Gyro a pink wig. The investor looked it over, confused. "Why?"

"Because you're gonna be the villain this time. I was thinking your villain name could be the Mad Ducktor. So, I've placed a bomb under the mayor's office."

"Like, a real, live bomb?"

"Yeah."

Dewey's heart pounded at the word of a possible bomb. He wondered if it was too loud.

"Your character has put a bomb on the scene, and it's up to me, Gizmo Duck, to stop you!" Now standing on the table, the duck put his hands on his hips heroically. But right now, Dewey's didn't think he was very heroic.

"W-what was wrong with stopping generic thugs?" Gyro didn't seem too sure about the plan. "I don't really want to be in a position to die."

"Small potatoes. If I want this city to be eating out of the palm of my hand, I've got to do something big! And I can't use a fake bomb because if someone did figure it out, the reign of Gizmo Duck would be over."

"But if someone found out I was the Mad Ducktor, that would be the end of Gearloose tech."

The duck jumped down from the table. He crouched towards Gyro, jabbing a finger in his chest. "Exactly. So don't get caught." Gyro gulped and nodded.

Dewey mulled over their conversation, his eyes wide. Maybe it was time to get out of here. He tried to turn around but found that the air vent was too narrow. In the process, he hit his head on the roof. "Ow."

"What was that?"

Dewey's body froze. His mind ran around in a frenzied panic.

"Fenton?"

"Someone's watching us, shush." Fenton's eyes scanned over the lab. Dewey wished to crawl away as quickly as possible. In his attempt to get away, he ended up only making more noise against the thin metal. Fenton's eyes shot to the grate. "There! In the vents!"

Dewey had never moved so fast. Shifting backwards, he made his way towards the open as fast as he could. Once he was out in daylight, he jumped to his feet, dashing away from the building as far as his legs would take him. His lungs burned and blood pounded in his eardrums, but he wouldn't stop for nothing. He would screamed from general fear if his voice weren't caught in his throat. It was probably a good thing, lest Gizmo Duck find him.

He didn't know how long he'd been running, but his legs finally made him stop. Leaning against a building to catch his breath, he replayed everything he had just heard. He had to tell someone, but who? He looked up, and as if in answer, in the distance he saw the bright blue W of the Waddle building.

Chapter Text

After the heated argument with Launchpad, Louie decided to cool off by helping Mark with his project. When Louie got to Waddle asking if he could help, Mark just sat him down on a chair and let him watch. Louie exchanged a look with Owlson, who seemed to be doing the same thing: sitting there being bored while Mark refused to let anyone help. Louie wished he was doing something more interesting.

As if in answer to Louie's wish, Dewey burst through the door, screaming and looking out of breath at the same time. Louie sat up, startled. "Dewey, what is it?" Dewey shook his hands, trying to portray to his brother why he was freaking out. After a strange game of charades and cries, Louie was able to make it out. "Oh! Gizmo Duck turned out to be a fraud and he put a live bomb in town that he plans to disable this afternoon at the mayor's office?" Dewey nodded rapidly, panting.

Owlson looked up from her phone an shared a confused expression with Mark. "Uh, how did you get that from that?"

"Well, when you're Dewey's brother for ten years..." Louie shrugged.

"Louie, we have to do something!" Dewey had finally gotten a hold of himself, bouncing on his knees.

"Right." Louie smacked his fist on his palm. He spun around to face the parrot. "Mark, you're an adult. What do you say we do?"

Mark was back on his project, fixing up the helmet. "Hang on a sec, kids, I'm almost done with this..." Sticking out his tongue, he tightened a bolt for the visor. "Once it's done, I'm gonna shove this right in Gearloose's dumb face, and when mine is better than his, he's gonna have to admit that I'm the better inventor!"

"Did yo hear anything Dewey just said- or acted? Gizmo Duck's been faking being a hero."

"He is? Even more reason mine is better!"

Louie rolled his eyes with a sigh. Maybe you're not an adult. Grabbing the blueprints, he compared them to Mark's suit. "I think you messed up on the size."

Mark shook his head. "Impossible. How could I-" He stopped, stepping back to see the suit in totality. He took the blueprints from Louie. "Oh shoot, I made it the wrong size." Mark began to circle the blue and white mechanism. "This won't fit me at all! It's too small! How could I make such a stupid mistake!" He smacked his hand to his forehead, a frown on his beak.

Owlson got up and came to look over the suit also. "Hey, I bet I could fit it! I could wear it!"

"That's as ridiculous as me messing up on the size." Crossing his arms, he rolled his eyes at her.

"And why's that?" Zan put her hands on her hips, glaring.

"Because you're too incompetent to man a fine piece of machinery like this."

"Excuse me!" She put a hand to her chest, offended. Jeremy's bulb turned red at Mark insulting his self appointed mother. The small robot charged Mark and attempted to bite him before remembering her didn't have teeth.

"All you ever do is mess up. Why would I trust you with something I put so much time and effort into?" Mark nudged Jeremy away with his foot.

"All I ever do is mess up? I basically make this company run! And I'm not the one with some stupid grudge because someone copied off your kindergarten homework!"

"It was more important than kindergarten homework, Zan!"

"Whatever. You're so stuck up, Mark. Haven't you ever heard of yolo?"

The helmet to Mark's suit lit up. "Password programmed: yolo."

Mark stared at it with wide eyes. "What! I didn't tell it to do that!" He let his arms sag. "No, now whenever I wanna a use it, you have to say yolo. That's so dumb!"

"You're dumb!" She stuck to her tongue at him.

Louie and Dewey stiffened, awkwardly watching the adults go back and forth. They were both too frightened to move.

"Should we..." Dewey's eyes moved towards the door.

"We'll just let ourselves out." Louie and his brother left, though the CEOs' argument could still be heard beyond the doors. "Come on, Dew, we've got a bomb to stop."

...

Standing in the crowd of people in front of the mayor's office, Dewey and Louie thought of places where the bomb could be. They didn't know much about the mayor's office, so they came up dry.

"What are we going to do if we can't stop it?" Dewey frowned.

Louie tapped a finger to his chin. "Let's just hope Gizmo Duck actually does diffuse the bomb."

The loud screech of speakers starting up drew their attention. A banner was hung overhead, reading, "Thank you, Gizmo Duck!" The mayor of Duckburg stood up front, microphone in hand. "Welcome citizens of Duckburg!" The crowd hushed with the start of the event. "We are gathered here today to congratulate our town's own hero on his noble deeds, Gizmo Duck!" The crowd cheered as Gizmo Duck rolled on stage, waving at the people. Dewey and Louie exchanged a worried glance.

"Hello, Duckburg!" Gizmo Duck took the microphone from the mayor and smiled. "It is an honor to be here! You've all been so welcoming and I've done my best to clean up your streets of crime. Thank you for awarding me the key to the city!" The audience cheered some more.

Dewey gulped, a pit falling in his stomach. The hero he had looked up to was just a fake. Actually, worse than a fake, he was actively bringing more crime into the city. As he watched the display on stage, he couldn't help but feel Gizmo Duck was staring directly at him. The duckling sunk behind his brother.

"You good, Dewey?" Louie pat Dewey on the head. Dewey nodded, trying to put on his bravest face.

Just then, the Mad Ducktor jumped onstage. Despite being dressed as a villain, Gyro looked just as nervous as he always looked. The people gasped and Gizmo Duck took up a defensive stance. "Gizmo Duck! It's time you met your demise!" Gyro put his hands on his hips menacingly.

"Halt villain! Who are you and what do you want!" Gizmo Duck narrowed his eyes at Gyro.

"I am the Mad Ducktor, and I'm here to put an end to your city saving days! I've placed a bomb somewhere here, and if you don't stop it in time, the mayor's office and everyone near it will go splat!" Gyro added a maniacal laugh just for good measure. "So what are you going to do, Gizmo Duck?"

"I bet it's under the platform if he has to reach it easily," Louie said. Dewey nodded and crept through the crowd and to the stage. Louie followed close behind. "Look for anywhere that looks like a door."

Dewey ran his hands over the wood platform, searching for any outlines or indents. Gizmo Duck was distracted with his fake speech about justice or whatever with the Mad Ducktor, so he didn't notice the boys for a while. Dewey mumbled to himself, "Come on, where is it?" Some of the people in the audience had left, scared for their lives, while others remained, watching Gizmo Duck verbally duel with the villain.

"Hey kid! Get away from there!" Gizmo Duck finally noticed him. Dewey flinched, hands shaking. After a moment, Gizmo Duck recognized him and put two and two together. "You! You were the kid in the vents!"

"Uh..." The boy in blue drawled on, hoping for some sort of escape. His beak formed a weird smile, more to reassure himself than anything else. On the inside, Dewey was panicking, causing his brain to shut down. Gizmo Duck began rolling towards him.

"Hey!" Dewey and Gizmo Duck's eyes darted to the source of the noise, Louie, who had climbed up on the platform. "Gizmo Duck has been lying to everyone! He's been paying criminals to attack so that he can get the attention when he stops them!" The crowd gasped at Louie's news.

"No, I'm your hero, remember!" Gizmo Duck began frantically trying to defend his case. "You're not really gonna believe the word of some random kid over me, are you?"

"He's a liar! He hid the bomb! And, the Mad Ducktor is just Gyro Gearloose with a wig and costume!" Louie pointed to the scientist. Gyro, who had been standing around idly while Gizmo Duck was dealing with the boys, now looked very nervous.

"Shut up, kid," Gizmo Duck mumbled to Louie.

Louie ignored him. "Is this really the guy you want to give the key to the city to? He should go to jail! Someone get security so we can stop the bomb before it's too late."

"I said shut it!"

"What do you have to say in defense, Gizmo Duck? Other than the fact that I'm a kid, you haven't given you good piece of evidence I'm lying." Louie put his hands on his hips and a he wore smug expression.

"Here's your piece of evidence, brat." Gizmo Duck raised his arm, shooting something from it at Louie.

It hit the green triplet in the leg and he winced. After close inspection, Louie realized it was a dart. "Aw, phooey." He passed out, falling off the stage.

"Louie!" Dewey jumped to his brother's rescue, catching him before he hit the pavement. Turning him over, Dewey got a better look at him. "Louie, are you alright!"

Louie rubbed his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I think so. Just... dizzy." Louie looked worse than just dizzy, but Dewey didn't argue.

"Did Gizmo Duck just shoot a kid!" someone screamed from the audience. The crowd turned on the hero.

Gizmo Duck backed up, his hands up defensively. Looking around for his partner, he realized Gyro had left in the chaos to avoid getting caught. Gizmo Duck scoffed. "Gearloose, you coward." His attention turned back to the raging crowd. "Hey, listen now, he's not dead. He just didn't know when to be quiet!"

The crowd began booing. "Gizmo Duck's no hero! He's a jerk! That kid was right!"

"Enough!" Gizmo Duck finally burst. "I protected your city and this is how you treat me!" Before he could say anything else, a loud boom erupted from behind him. He flinched. "Well, there goes the bomb."

Someone screamed as the mayor's office began to crumble. Some chunks of rumble fell near the crowd. People scrambled out of the way, but still things grew worse. A softball of concrete hit Gizmo Duck in the back, leaving an ugly dent in the suit. It began to malfunction, shooting laser, pies, and rockets, adding to the cacophony of danger.

"Come on, Louie, we've got to get out of here." Dewey got his brother to his feet. Hoisting an arm over his shoulder, Dewey helped Louie walk. Mark and a woman who looked similar to him came up to them. "Mark, you came?"

"Once Zan and I got over our argument, we realized we'd completely forgotten about you guys and the bomb. Zan is here too, somewhere. She's getting more people to safety." Strapped over his chest, Mark had a duffle bag. Mark's eyes landed on Louie. "Louie! Is he alright?"

"Did you know Launchpad is my best friend?" Louie said to Dewey.

Dewey shook his head. "No, he's not alright. Louie, you're not thinking straight."

"Oh, that's good."

"No, Louie, it's not-" Dewey gave up and sighed.

Mark took the green triplet from Dewey and handed Louie to the woman with Mark. "Here, mom, get him to safety. Come on, Dewey, we're going to stop Gizmo Duck." He smirked at his mother. "Also, might I add, I was right about how this would go wrong?"

"Marcus." She gave him a stern look. "Are you going to fix the problem or what?"

Mark shrunk under her gaze. "Right." He marched ahead, Dewey following along. "By ourselves? Shouldn't we wait until the cops get here or something?"

"The cops aren't here right now. And we need to stop him before he causes anymore damage."

Taking in a deep breath, Dewey reassured himself. Right, he could handle this. He could be brave.

...

Zan was searching for anyone who might be trapped under the falling rubble while trying not to get herself caught. She found a few people trapped by several pieces of wood and concrete. Pressing her hands against a chuck of wall, she managed to knock it over. The people thanked her and ran off. Zan took a minute to catch her breath, only to be caught off guard by a laser from the Gizmo suit. She yelped, jumping back. Rude.

"Zan!" Mark called to her, Dewey next to him. "We're going to stop the Gizmo suit. You keep up with helping people to safety."

"Do you want me to hold your bag?"

Mark looked down at his duffle bag. "I was sort of hoping to do a test run."

"Yeah,but it doesn't even fit you and you can't use it without me because of the passcode." She held out her hand for the bag.

Mark rolled his eyes after some debating. "Fine. But don't wear it." He handed it to her, looking her in the eye.She nodded. He left with Dewey at his side.

Zan looked at the bag, considering wearing the suit inside. She shook herself, returning her mind back to her job. She could always wear it later, after all this. Of course, it wouldn't be as much fun with Mark's permission, but whatever.

The majority of the people from the original crowd had left and probably called the authorities, but a few people still remained. She helped several more bystanders, getting them to their feet and out of the dust and rubble. Her arms were starting to get tired and he was running out of breath. But she persisted.

From the stage, Owlson could see the Gizmo suit spinning frantically, knocking into things and causing more destruction. If the bomb didn't destroy the mayor office, the suit definitely did. It knocked into a column, making it come plummeting forward. Following its direction with her eyes, she could see it was heading straight for Emma and Louie.

It was a split second decision. She couldn't get there in time on her own, and even if she could, there was no way she could hold up the column with only her arms. But maybe if she put on the Waddle suit... Mark would probably get on her later, calling her a mess up and telling her how stupid she was, but she would deal with that later. Right now she had to choose.

She ran in the direction of the two. She clutched tightly to the bag over her shoulder. "I am not a mess up," she said to herself. "I am not incompetent or dumb. I can do things, too." Emma caught sight of the ever encroaching shadow. She winced, preparing herself for the worst. "YOLO!" The bag broke apart, the different components of the suit splitting out. She slid in front of her friends and raised her hands above her head. The column landed.

Grunting, she raised it above her head. Emma watched her with eyes wide. "I am Waddle Bird!" She threw the column away, making a loud thud. Panting, she put her hands on her hips. The suit's white and blue plating shone brightly in the sun. She smirked, looking at her feet, which had a pair of rollerblades attached to the bottom. "Aw, he does care."

Louie squinted at her, trying to process what had just happened. He frowned. "You should've made it green. I like green."

Zan crossed her arms. "No one asked you, Louie." Emma sighed, rolling her eyes.

...

Dewey stood behind Mark, his fists clenched and ready to fight. Though, if it came down to it, he was unsure if he would fight. Mark was upfront, dogging any swings from the Gizmo suit. "Shut it down, whoever you are!"

"I'm trying!" The duck inside the suit said. "It's gone haywire, and I can't figure out how to shut it off!"

Mark lunged at the suit, pinning Gizmo Duck to the ground. Mark looked to Dewey. "I've got him down, you look for the source of the problem."

Dewey began looking over the suit, while also dodging the pies lunching from it. He finally found the dent, on the back near to where Mark was. It happened to be a panel. Dewey opened it and found a mess of wires. The task was more daunting than Dewey originally thought. He looked to Mark for answers.

"Okay, see the red wire? It was unplugged, so just plug it back in."

"Um, the majority of them are red..."

"The red one. Those other ones are crimson."

"Oh, thanks for clearing that up." Dewey was surprised at his own sarcasm. He shuffled through the wires, trying to differentiate between the colors. He finally found an unplugged wire that looked somewhat another shade if you squinted really hard. He plugged it into the hole. The suit stopped moving. They went quiet, as if waiting for something to happen.

When nothing happened Dewey cheered. "Yes! He's back in control."

"That's right kid, I'm back in control!" Gizmo Duck pushed himself up, knocking Mark and Dewey off him. He stood over them, aiming lasers at them. "You took away my city, so I'm taking away your lives."

Dewey and Mark jumped out of the way of the lasers. Mark tried to tackle him, but Gizmo Duck knocked him away. Gizmo Duck narrowed his eyes at Dewey. The boy in blue shrunk under his threatening gaze. He took several steps back, Gizmo Duck sliding forward. Dewey desperately scanned for some sort of help. He frowned, finding none.

"It's over kid." Gizmo Duck raised his laser arm again.

Dewey's feet froze to the floor, fear running through his veins. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this! The whirring of the laser pounded in his eardrums. He couldn't hope to stop Gizmo Duck all by himself. Mark was down, Zan was busy elsewhere, and Louie wasn't able to help. What could Dewey do? He didn't know how to stand up for himself, that's what Louie did.

Dewey clenched his fists, focusing on his breathing to calm himself down. If he didn't stand up for himself now, he would die. Couldn't get any worse if he just went for it. I can do this. Let's get dangerous.

Forcing his feet from the ground, he ducked away from the laser. He looked for any sort of weakness with the suit. Darting underneath Gizmo Duck, Dewey spun the "hero" around, nearly knocking him off balance. Dewey's eyes went to the tire that held up the suit. Bingo!

"Ya know, Gizmo Duck, you're just a big bully!" He gabbed some rope that had been used to hold up the banner. He sprinted under Gizmo Duck's arm, wrapping the rope around the wheel. He tugged at the rope, struggling to pull hard enough to make Gizmo Duck trip up. Mark joined him, adding his weight to their side. "Ad you know what they say. The bigger they are, the harder they fall!"

One final tug, and Gizmo duck went tumbling off the platform. He fell ace first into the ground, his helmet rolling off. Owlson, dressed in Marks suit, came to meet them. Emma and Louie were behind her. Owlson gasped. "Fenton, my love! You're back!"

"Get back! I'll kill you!" He raised his laser arm, only for it to glitch and spark. It had been damaged in the fall. Fenton groaned.

The cops entered the scene as just the right time, ready to take him away. Several paramedics arrived to, helping anyone who had been injured in the event.

Mark ruffled Dewey's hair. "Good job, kid."

Dewey swelled with pride, beaming. "Really? That was so terrifying, I almost died!"

"Well, almost dying seems to happen a lot with your family." Mark shrugged.

Zan approached Mark, a nervous smile on her face. "Look, I know you told me not to wear the suit-"

"Zan-"

"Waddle Bird actually. Gotta keep a secret identity."

Mark sighed. "Of course."

"Anyways, I know you said not to wear the suit, but stuff was falling, and they almost got crushed, and I had to do something, and-" She gave up, letting her arms sag. "Go ahead. Tell me how I messed up and didn't listen." Instead, he caught her in a hug. She stiffened, taken by surprise. "Uh, what's happening? Is this some sort of trick?"

"Nope. Zan, you saved my mom. I don't think that's a mess up."

She smiled and accepted the hug. After a moment, they broke apart. Mark smiled at her, his face turning red. When he realized he was blushing, he looked away, clearly trying desperately to stop. Emma nudged him, a knowing smirk on her face.

"This isn't the last you've seen of me!" Fenton glared at them, the police escorting him back to their car. "I'll be back! Someday, Duckburg will be in the palm of my hand, and there will be nothing you can do to stop it!" The officer shoved him in the car, forcing him to sit. Fenton's eyes narrowed on Dewey. "And you just made it personal."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mark said, stepping over to the car door. He mocked Fenton with his hand. "Shut it, Fenton." He slammed the door shut.

...

"I said what!" Louie stared at his brother, wide eyed as they stepped inside the mansion. "I would never!"

Dewey nodded, laughing. "Yes, you did. You said Launchpad was your best friend."

"Well, if I've learned anything today, I will never take a dart for you again."

"Well, I learned to stand up for myself. Get ready to see a more wild side of Dewey Duck, because scaredy cat Dew is long gone." He put his beak up smugly. "You won't have to take a dart for me because I can stand up for myself now."

Louie raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Launchpad stepped down the stairs, and seeing they were home, a mischievous smile crossed his beak. "Well, are you two back from throwing a fit after you realized I'm superior in every way?"

Louie glared at him. "Excuse me, I-"

Dewey stopped his brother. "Please, Lou, I can handle this."

"Aw, you're gonna handle it?" Launchpad moved his hand to ruffle Dewey's hair, but the duckling grabbed his wrist.

"Actually, I saved Duckburg today, which is superior to anything you'll ever do,since you just spend the day harassing people and hoping you don't get caught. So leave us along, or I'm telling Fethry." Dewey kept his eyes locked with Launchpad.

Pulling away, Launchpad rubbed his wrist. He stared at the boys a moment longer. "Whatever." And with that he walked off.

"Ha, see?" Dewey put his hands on his hips. The boys walked up the stairs. "Totally fearless."

"Hey Dewey!" Huey popped up from around the corner, making Dewey yelp. Louie snickered.

That earned a glare from Dewey. "Hardy har har. So maybe not totally fearless."