Hypo
One shot brotherly fluff fic.
Characters owned by Spielberg/Ruegger/Warner
Something that popped into my head while writing another Animaniacs fic, this will be relatively short. I am not familiar with hypoglycemia or diabetes so you will have to forgive if this is not a hundred percent accurate portrayal of the disease.
"Give me your hand Wakko!" Ordered Yakko, holding an odd device in his left hand, "I promise it'll be quick." He said, using his normal tone. Friday nights always followed the same routine for the siblings, Yakko would make dinner and everyone would eat quickly so they could return to their games, everyone except Wakko who knew what would happen the moment all his food disappeared. Dot had finished, thanked Yakko for the meal and kissed Wakko's forehead before departing for one of the many rooms in the tower.
Anyone who knew Wakko knew it was no challenge for him to eat, and his standards for food were ultimately lacking, so why it'd take him almost two hours to finish a single meal was beyond the thought process of any non-Warner. "No," Wakko barked, stubbornly shielding his hands. Of course Yakko would never get mad at his younger brother for refusing the order; it wasn't exactly going to lead to the most enjoyable feeling in the world. "I ate all my food; we don't need to do this!" He yelled, glaring at the wall directly in front of him.
"Wakko, I just want to make sure you're going to be alright. Can you blame me after what happened last night?" He kneeled beside his brother, putting his free hand on the boy's shoulder who in turn shook it off. It was hurtful, but also understandable.
"It wasn't a big deal," He muttered.
"You were screaming in your sleep Wakko, drenched from the tip of your hat to your toes in sweat."
"Not like that was the first time it's happened." He countered, turning that hateful glare onto his brother.
"True, but it's the first time in a long time. You were shaking, Dot was in tears asking me if you'd be alright!" Shouting had returned, why did Wakko have to be so childish about this? "She's scared it'll happen again tonight, god only knows how afraid she'd be if she knew the other symptoms of this."
"It's not fair," He said, sounding as if he'd be the next one to cry. "Why do I have to get a shot every week and you and Dot don't?"
"I don't know Wakko, but it's not a shot. It just pricks your skin and reads your blood glucose level, it's that simple." Yakko explained, attempting to make it sound as simple and straight to the point as he possibly could.
"Then why don't you use it instead?" He asked, shifting his gaze from wall to wall then object to object in a desperate attempt of avoiding eye contact.
"Because these strips are expensive and I don't have hypoglycemia. Wakko the sooner we get this done the sooner you can go play." Hopes that pointing out the obvious would somehow persuade his brother into making this easier was a last ditch effort that easily fell short.
Wakko stood his ground, keeping each hand away from his brother. "Maybe I'll just sit here all night then."
Yakko rarely got annoyed, mainly because he was always the source of annoyance itself, but when it came to his siblings he could be a different person all together. Finally he just stood up and moved to the seat across from him, staying silent for five entire minutes (a personal best). "When you were five, you'd always want to climb this one tree in the park. If I took my eye off of you for even one second you would run to that tree." He laughed at the memory, whereas Wakko struggled to even remember the incident.
"Did I ever climb it?" Wakko asked, calming slightly.
"You certainly did, only because I got so tired of constantly dragging you away from the thing. I thought you would make it to the top; it wasn't any bigger then say . . . Dr. Scratchy. So I walk you to the tree and you jump right on, and just when you're about to reach the very top . . . you fall. I nearly had a stroke when I saw blood on your knees but you just looked at the blood then started climbing again." Yakko held his hand in the air, "True story."
Wakko smiled at this, if only momentarily. "I remember thinking 'how cool is he that he just gets right back up and tries again'. I was so proud of you, still am obviously." He shrugged, an enormous smile stretching across his face. "I saved up a month's worth of allowance and bought you that hat to celebrate climbing to the top of that tree." He pointed to Wakko's usual red cap. "I can't say I know how painful it is to have to do this each week, but I want you to know that putting up with it always amazes me."
Yakko rises from the chair and slowly approaches Wakko, placing the small pricking device on the table as a sign that he would not try a sneak attack. He wraps his arms around his brother and squeezes tightly, Wakko nervously returns the hug. "I'm just scared Wakko, you screaming in your sleep is a minor thing compared to the other affects this can have on you. I can't imagine my life without you and Dot right beside me." Silence fills the kitchen until they separate, Yakko rubs the back of his head. "You don't have to this, but it would make me feel so much better." He says before collecting the plates on the table.
"Yakko?" Wakko slouches in the chair, removing a glove and holding his hand out, head facing the ground. Yakko puts the plates back on the table and grabs the device, turning it on and placing it near one of his little brother's fingers. "Please make it quick," He begs, slightly pulling his hand away when he feels the device touch his skin.
"I'm going to count to three okay?" He lies; Wakko nods and takes a few deep breaths. "One . . ." That's as far as he gets before pricking his brother's skin with the test strip. Wakko flinches in pain, hand shaking rapidly as Yakko tries to comfort him. "It's alright," He says this three more times. Wakko opens his watery eyes, and looks at the blood on his finger.
"Will you still be proud of me if I cry?" He asked in a quivering voice, doing his best to hold back tears. Yakko can feel his heart breaking at this statement and quickly returns to hugging the boy.
"Of course," He says, his own eyes watering as he feels tears dripping onto his shoulder and back. Two minutes pass until Wakko's crying subsides but even then they stay together, separating only when the grandfather clock chimes nine times. "I love you so much Wakko and I'm very sorry for having to do this." He wipes at his own eyes.
"I love you too Yakko." Wakko starts to smile as he knows he won't have to do this until next Friday.
"Go have fun; I'll be right behind you." Yakko promises. Wakko jumps out of the chair and grabs his glove off the table before running out of the room and into parts unknown. Yakko looks at the meter, glad to see a positive number displayed on the tiny screen. While Wakko is happy about not having to do this until next Friday, Yakko is dreading having to do it again and again and again. He grabs the plates off the table and takes them into the kitchen to clean them, whistling as a faux sign of happiness.
He doubted it really hurt, after all it was just a small poke. But to a seven year old that was one of the worse pains imaginable, and Wakko had to go through it every week. Would this incident make next week easier? Definitely not, and Dot would probably be afraid to go asleep at night after seeing her brother in some seizure like state. She had acted strange the entire day and would probably need to be sat down and told of Wakko's condition at some point in the night.
"Hey Yakko," Wakko pokes his head through the door, breaking Yakko's train of thought. "There's a Three's Company marathon on T.V. Land tonight, can I stay up late to watch it?" He asked, a major fan of Don Knotts he always insisted on watching anything with the man's name in it.
There was no chance he would say no, and Wakko knew this. "Of course you can, we'll all stay up and make a night of it." He exclaims, dropping the plates in the sink.
"Thanks!" Wakko shouts as he runs through the tower.
Yakko will have to do this again next week, but until then he'd enjoy the nice moments with his brother and sister as well as the lack of fighting. "Where's my sentimental moment?" Asked Dot, standing at the door with an angry glint in her eyes.
Of course this one scene popped into my head while writing these guys into "And We Proudly Present Skippy Squirrel!" but I couldn't get it in there as it would have no point with the main plot and would just distract from the actual story. Can't have that can we?
Anyway I hope you enjoyed the story. I researched hypoglycemia to the best of my ability, but with a bad internet connection it took longer than necessary. I ask that nobody goes on a fact checking mission and just enjoy the fluff and sappiness of the story. For instance rather then one test every week it is usually two or four every day and I doubt it hurts as much as Wakko portrays it, but he is just a child after all.