A/N: Bit of action in this chapter, hopefully not too boring. :)
Chapter X
It was dark.
There was no moon in the sky over the Warner movie lot, nothing to highlight the shapes of the buildings or the now-empty water tower. This normally thriving place seemed to be deserted, but somewhere in one of the offices, a figured moved stealthily as he quickly yet thoroughly searched the filing cabinets.
His gloved fingers slicked through the pages until he found the two documents he was after. He looked at them and shook his head.
"Plotz..." his voice was a whisper that still sounded too loud in the emptiness of the building. "You dreadful man..."*
He had what he needed; James Fenton grinned to himself.
"I love throwing the rule book out the window."
The days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months. The Warners became used to their new lives; it was odd how soon it stopped feeling new and felt as if it was normal. Their time at Warner Brothers sometimes seemed like a dream, as if it had happened during another lifetime altogether.
They had eked out Jacqueline's savings for as long as they could, but Yakko knew they wouldn't last forever. He had soon been forced to go out and search for some sort of work. There was really very little to be found in the area; and for once it wasn't in his favour that he was stuck as a twelve year old for the rest of his life. Most employers didn't even bother to look at his Creation Certificate** which clearly stated his literal age, before slamming the door in his face. He was eventually reduced working odd jobs here and there for people who were obviously unperturbed by an "underage" worker, cash in hand, no questions asked.
Wakko and Dot had often offered to help him out, but Yakko wasn't having that. He shuddered to think of how some unkind people might exploit his precious siblings, and it was this thought that gave him determination and strength while he was out trying to scrape together enough money for their next meal.
Well, Wakko and Dot's next meal anyway.
On some days Yakko barely had enough for a loaf of bread. On these days, he didn't bother to eat. When his siblings questioned him he laughed it off. He had a list of excuses at the ready. He'd eaten while he was on his way home, he wasn't hungry, he was tired...
It was an Oscar-winning performance as always, and he convinced everyone but Baxter.
Baxter was the only friend they'd really made, it was true. He was a god-send to Yakko at times; the eldest Warner hated handing Wakko or Dot over to anyone. It made him feel unjustifiably jealous, but knowing the old stoat was just across the street in case anything went wrong did make him feel slightly more at ease.
When the stoat in question had first figured out Yakko's dilemma, he had been in their living room keeping them all entertained with stories of when he had travelled the seas. Yakko very much doubted they were all true, but Baxter was a natural storyteller and they were excellent entertainment in the absence of the TV, which they still didn't have yet. Wakko and Dot had fallen asleep after an impromptu game of pirates (led by no other than the stoat himself), while Yakko had slumped in the battered armchair, fighting to keep his eyes open. He felt like an old man. All he needed was a pipe and some slippers and the look would be complete. He was so tired...
And so hungry...
He must have inadvertently dropped off for a few minutes, because the next thing he knew Baxter was standing right over him and digging him gently in the ribs. Yakko nearly jumped out of his skin with an undignified yelp.
"Sorry kiddo, you were worrying me." He looked over his shoulder to ensure Wakko and Dot were still asleep, before turning back to Yakko, his arms folded and brow knitted together, looking for all the world like an overbearing father. "What's going on, Yakko? Don't think you can hide it from me, I've seen it all before, remember?"
Yakko was never a person to openly spill his guts; he'd been alone and without guidance for such a long time that he felt he was used to carrying the weight of his worries on his shoulders, so it surprised him when his mouth opened of its own accord and told the stoat everything, how work was becoming sparse, food was scarcer and scarcer and he didn't even want to think how he would keep up with Wakko.
Baxter listened intently, taking everything in before giving Yakko a sad smile.
"Yakko. I'm gonna tell it to ya straight. Plenty of my friends have been down this road, and I'm damned if I'm gonna let it happen to you and your sibs." He took a breath. "I know I've said it before; why don't you go home? I know you decided to stay and try your chances, but it's not working. You're too stubborn for your own good." He put a hand on the boy's shoulder; Yakko pulled away. "Don't think I don't want you around, kid – far from it. I just don't want to see you dragged down. Kids or no kids, there's plenty of people with no scruples round here and I'd hate to see your siblings get pulled into the underworld and forced into God only knows what."
This last comment made Yakko look up.
"But if we go home..."
"Plotz'll get you? You could always try getting to him first. Sell this place, sell your story to the press, do whatever. It's a long shot, but it might work."
Yakko gave a tired smile, too tired to even think. The old stoat made his excuses and left; Yakko carried his siblings to the bedroom, tucking them into the makeshift bed on the floor. He climbed in next to them; Wakko spread out like a windmill leaving very little room for anyone else. Yakko sat looking out of the old sash-type window a the sky.
"Harry...am I doing the right thing?" he whispered.
He longed for a sign, something, anything to indicate a reply, even a stupid Disney-style shooting star, but of course there was no response but silence permeated by the occasional sound of a car passing by. He wanted to wait a little longer but he was so hungry and exhausted that he fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.
The events of the next few days would make up Yakko's mind about the situation for him. Things were a little better than usual; he had made enough money for them all to eat tonight, and he'd turned into their street a little less dejectedly than usual.
He was thinking about what they could have for this sort of celebratory occasion, when he saw something he did not like at all; Baxter was standing on the sidewalk in front of their house with Wakko and Dot, and both of his siblings were crying. He broke into a run.
"Sibs! Sibs, what's going on?"
They both fell on him, gabbling out the story at the same time without pausing for breath. In the end Yakko had to shout to calm them down so he could understand what they were saying.
Dot pointed at the floor where their apartment was; for the first time Yakko noticed the broken window and the newly scrawled graffiti on the door they'd tried so hard to get clean.
"We were playing hide-and-seek when some people started throwing things at the block..."
"Yes," Wakko continued, "they were shouting all these weird words I didn't understand.*** When they'd gone we came outside and that was written on the door."
Most of what was scrawled was indecipherable, but one sentence was clear enough to make Yakko's blood run cold.
"Go kill yourselves before someone else does it for you".
"New gang on the block." Baxter's voice was more serious than Yakko had ever heard it. "They all work together behind the scenes; they'll have got a tip-off from other anti-toon supporters in the area. You should get out while you can, Yakko."
He looked at Baxter with more than a little of his old defiance.
"If they think they can make us live in fear, they've got another think coming! We haven't worked hard like this to be walked all over and made fools of!"
It was these words that ultimately led to the end; a figure in the nearby alleyway ducked back into the shadows and disappeared.
Yakko awoke in the night to a funny smell. It wasn't altogether unpleasant; just for a split second he thought he was back at home, tucked into bed, while Harry cooked their breakfast. Any moment now he was going to come rushing in and tear open the curtains so the bright morning light stung their eyes, making them shout "Retreat!" and try to hide under the covers.
It was such a mean trick.
Yakko tried not to wake up from this comfortable nostalgic semi-consciousness, but he couldn't help himself. He yawned and rubbed his eyes slowly. They were still too misty with sleep to see anything, so he rubbed them again. Still the room remained cloudy. He sniffed the air again.
Oh my God, it wasn't a dream, nor was it breakfast.
It was smoke.
He scrambled out of bed.
"Wakko. Dot." He struggled to keep the fear out of his voice. "Time to get up."
"What...where...Yakko?" Wakko sat up in bed, his headfur sticking up like a scrubbing brush on his hatless head.
"We..we have to go out."
"What?! Why? It's the middle of the night!"
Dot opened her eyes groggily. She looked at her brothers; then she and Wakko sniffed the air simultaneously.
"What's that smell?"
Yakko could see there was no point in lying.
"I think it's a fire. In the living room. Keep the door closed."
Wakko's eyes suddenly widened.
"Not the living room! I left my hat in there!"
Yakko had to concentrate very hard not to roll his eyes as he scooped Dot up into his arms. Of everything in the world, Wakko was worried about the hat.
"We'll get ya another, Wak, I promise. For now, let's worry about getting out of here, yeah?"
"But...but I've always had that hat! It's the one-"
A voice from outside interrupted them
"Yakko! Wakko! Dot! You kids still in there?"
Baxter.
Yakko threw the sash window open, inhaling blessed air into his lungs, before leaning out to answer his fellow toon who was standing beneath their window still in his tattered old pyjamas.
"We're OK!"
"Listen up, kiddo. I've called the fire department, but they're coming from the next town because ours are on strike. Again. Can you get out?"
"I-I don't think so. The fire's in the living room, where the door is!"
"Right, don't panic boy. Throw the little 'un down to me, then you and your brother climb down after."
"Got it!"
"No!" came Dot's sudden cry from his arms. "No, Yakko, I'm scared!"
"It's OK, Dottie." The youngest Warner was in too much of a state to notice the accidental Dottie slip out. "It'll be a split-second. Bax will catch you and we'll join you straight away. 'K?"
Dot clung tightly to Yakko's neck, but she nodded bravely. "'K."
It was a huge fight for Yakko to throw Dot the considerable drop from the third floor window. Every instinct in his body was screaming "no, no, no!" at the thought of it, yet on the other hand it would be ten times worse for them all to burn to death.
"I-I'm going to count down from three."
It was for his benefit as much as Dot's.
"Three..."
"Yakko."
"Two..."
"Yakko, I love you."
He froze mid-count and looked down at her.
"I mean it. Thank you for everything you've done for us."
Momentarily speechless, he kissed her forehead quickly.
"I love you too, sis. I'll see ya down there."
"On the double, big bro."
Yakko threw her.
She let out a little squeal. He couldn't look; he felt sick.
"I'm OK, Yakko!"
It was a reply he'd never been so glad to hear. He peered over the ledge to see Dot waving from Baxter's arms.
"Great job, Yakko! Now you and Wakko get down here and we'll wait for the fire department."
"Right, Wak. Let's get moving."
Yakko turned to his brother.
His brother wasn't there.
This would have been a cliffhanger if I hadn't decided to upload the last eight chapters in one go. I got impatient. And about toons and fire etc...well if you can burn paper and animation cels, I decided they might be able to be harmed by it too.
* It was going to be: "You bad boy" but that sounded so kinky -_-
**Yes, I made that up. They don't have any other forms of ID, do they? It was a matter of convienience XD
*** Wakko the innocent. ^_^