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.