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Launchpad McQuack prided himself on being a pretty easygoing guy. He didn’t have a whole lot of stuff that bothered him, aside from whenever Gosalyn would spring a scary movie on him, telling him it wasn’t a big deal, even as Launchpad felt his hair going white from fright. But lately, what was bothering him went much deeper than Gos' beloved slasher films, but all the same it kept him up at night, kept him just thinking, rolling it over and over in his mind.
But even as the weird anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach slowly amplified, he kept telling himself, It’s all for the best.
Just a couple of months ago marked seven years that he and Drake had started being a crime fighting team, and how they'd commemorated the whole thing made Launchpad blush in retrospect, since they’d celebrated it together almost like it was a different kind of anniversary. Gos, now a lanky teenager who practically lived in slouchy oversized sweatshirts, had given him and Drake knowing little glances as they shyly exchanged gifts, and then smirked at them trying in vain to blow out the trick candles she’d stuck in the cake. That moment was a blissfully happy one, and Launchpad cherished it just like all the good times they’d shared as their ragtag little family.
But it was not long afterwards that all that changed. It wasn't completely out of the blue, after all—some part of him knew it would eventually happen one day—and wanting to do the right thing, Launchpad became convinced it was only right if he finally got a place of his own. He’d lived with Drake for far too long; in fact, it had been so long he didn’t even think about the fact that he might have worn out his welcome. Or got in the way.
Drake seemed a little wistful at his decision, but he seemed to know it was probably for the best, too. Launchpad remembered Gos pleading with him to stay and Drake trying to console her, convince her that him moving out made sense. Because it did. Of course it did. Gos was old enough now that she could help her dad out with sidekicking too, so Launchpad had ended up taking a break from that as well. It was important to give Drake some space. But Gos wouldn’t have any of it, and she was still upset, even now, and would occasionally text Launchpad, telling him to come back already. How they needed him, how there was still plenty of room, and that her dad was being an idiot. Launchpad always smiled sadly when he got a message like this, because even if Gos couldn't understand it, he knew both he and Drake were finally seeing things pretty clearly, now.
It would all be for the best, after all. Gos would see that too, in time.
Alone in his tiny apartment across town, Launchpad was now peering in his dresser mirror, inspecting himself. After not seeing him for a while, today he was finally going to meet Drake again, and he didn’t want to look shabby or disheveled. That would just be rude, and cause his friend to worry. He didn’t want that. As Drake's sidekick, it had always been his job to do the supporting, not the other way around. He smoothed down his blazer again, frowning at one or two errant wrinkles in the expensive fabric. He didn’t wear such fancy stuff usually, and the discomfort of these awkward clothes nagged at him just like that all-too-familiar, gnawing feeling that had been roiling in his gut. But he needed to grin and bear it, for today, anyway.
It’ll all be for the best, you’ll see. Just gotta keep tellin’ yourself that.
Later, when he saw Drake, his heart almost burst at the seams with joy, and he very nearly forgot that anxious feeling that kept him awake these past few months, tossing and turning in his bed at night. Like him, Drake was dressed to the nines too, and Launchpad flushed as he gazed down at his hero, impeccably handsome in this soft light. Purple always did look so good on him.
“Thanks for doing this for me, buddy. I couldn’t have asked anybody else,” Drake said, stroking Launchpad’s arm. Launchpad yearned to wrap him up in a big suffocating hug, but he kept his arms hanging limply at his sides. Today wasn't the day for that. Truth be told, it might never be the day again.
“Heh, well, everybody always said I’d end up standin’ next to ya at the altar one way or another,” Launchpad chuckled, attempting a joke, but his voice caught in his throat. It wasn’t as funny as he thought.
Drake didn’t seem to notice his distress. He was too busy with other things, like marrying the love of his life.
Which of course, wasn't Launchpad.
Drake was moving on with his life, after all. Starting on the next big adventure, which made Launchpad excited for him, even if he ended up being left behind.
It would be okay, he reassured himself, absently adjusting his tie as the ceremonial music played, the congregation turning to watch the bride make her long-awaited entrance.
It'd be just like he had been telling himself all these past months. It would all be for the best. He was sure of it.
From his place at Drake's side, Launchpad's conviction grew stronger as he watched the couple through misty eyes, because even in the span of these few minutes, he could see how their happiness filled up this whole room and then some. He smiled, letting that radiating warmth wash over him. He was happy for them, happy that DW had finally been able to find that special someone, happy that Gos, even though she was almost grown, could finally have a mom. He cried with joy because with this ceremony, his best friend finally had what he could call an official, complete family. Maybe they’d add to it, later, so Gos would have some siblings, and that would be reason for so much more happiness. She’d be great at being a big sister, he just knew it.
He beamed at the couple as they said their vows, so happy for their bright future together, and it was happy tears that flowed down his cheeks. He always had been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. But that nagging, gnawing feeling in his stomach gave him pause, because the ache was somehow still there, persistent and raw through all his joyful tears, reminding him of the fact that most of the times that he’d ever cried out of joy—like Gos getting another sports MVP award or every time Drake had smiled up at him all sweet and warm, calling him his best friend too—those times never made his guts twist painfully like this. But today wasn’t about him. Today was about celebrating his best friend's—his hero's—wedding. That he'd been so honored to be a part of, even if it wasn't in the way his heart had always hoped.
All of it, someday, would turn out for the best.
And so at their reception, that was what he said as he gave his toast as Drake Mallard’s best friend and sidekick. And today, as his best man.
“Now and for always, I wish you all the best, DW.”
Then there was the clink of champagne glasses, celebrating the moment, the whole room welcoming a new chapter in the happy couple’s lives. No one would ever know it, but that small, clear echoing of glass, pretty and airy like the tinkling of tiny bells, sounded exactly like the best man’s heart breaking in two.
But Launchpad McQuack was an optimist. As a pilot, he knew probably more than most that even dark clouds always had silver linings. So even heartbreak could make you stronger, someday. So you could weather worse things, in time.
Yeah, he thought, smiling at his best friend as he danced with his new bride, the world for a day rightly revolving around them.
It’s for the best.