Chapter 11: Cabin Fever
Rocky's mugshot glared at Dot from the television screen – well, she assumed he was glaring, it was hard to tell when a bandana obscured his face from the eyes up. His prominent jaw, shaded by a five o'clock shadow, showcased a trademark sneer that was more like a gash in his face than anything. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth with a thin trail of smoke curling up and out of frame. Even though Dot knew he was short man in reality, he looked oddly menacing on the screen.
A shiver raced down her spine, but Dot resisted the urge to snuggle closer to Yakko. She hadn't spoken a word to him since he had screamed at her in the car last night, and she had no inclination to now. She had officially been grounded for a month, but now that it looked as though they'd be camping out at Bugs' for a while, she wasn't sure what difference that made. She'd forgive her brother eventually, but first she wanted him to squirm a little bit. So instead she edged away from him, placing herself as far away from him as possible on Bugs' couch. Yakko didn't seem to notice; he was leaning forward on the edge of his seat, head in his hands, ears forward, body tense, raptly attentive to the news report on screen. Wakko, mouth slightly open, was perched on the arm of the couch next to him and watching as well. Bugs refused to sit, and instead stood behind the couch and surveyed the screen with his arms crossed.
"Investigators remain baffled by Rocky's escape from the State of New York Toon Correctional Facility Monday morning," the reporter fired off, "one guard commented that 'it was as though he disappeared into thin air.' Rocky, who has been in solitary confinement twenty years since his incarceration in 1979, left only this message, written on his cell wall in ink – "
The camera cut to a shot Dot had become very familiar with in the last hour: the words "WARNER DID IT" scrawled in large but thin black letters on a cement wall.
"Warner may in fact refer to Yakko Warner and family, who were allegedly attacked by the four unnamed toons who were famously murdered in the same facility in early March – "
"Allegedly attacked," Yakko spat, "we were attacked, it's a fact, they could at least get that right. They're certainly good at linking us to the crime without any proof whatsoever – "
"Shh," Bugs hissed.
The anchor continued, "Mysteriously, no guard or inmate has any recollection of Rocky's escape, or what Rocky had been doing not only that day, but for the entire week. The police continue to investigate."
It cut to commercial for fabric softener.
"Why can't anyone remember anything?" Wakko asked.
Dot shrugged and they both turned to Yakko. He looked them for a second before turning around to Bugs. "Any thoughts?" he asked.
For moment it appeared that Bugs hadn't heard him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, he was frowning at nothing. But finally his stance loosened and he faced them. "It's hard to say," Bugs murmured, still in deep thought, "if I didn't know any better – and I do – I'd say he blurred them, but he couldn't – "
"What's that?" Dot and her brothers asked in perfect unison. She rolled her eyes, which would have been fine had Yakko and Wakko not both done that as well.
Bugs' brow rose. "You guys practice when I'm not around?"
"Freaky sibling thing," Dot explained, "please continue."
"Blurring refers to when one toons manipulates the mind of another," Bugs explained, "blurring makes you see things, makes you believe you're somewhere else…a toon could make you think you're on top of the Himalayas, but you're really just sitting on my couch. It's dangerous and can really mess with a toon's head. It's illegal to boot. Not that it really matters though, almost no toon can do it. It's a natural ability, you can't learn it. You either got it or you don't. And if I had my guess, I'd say Rocky don't got it."
"Can you do it?" Wakko asked.
"Well…no," Bugs admitted, sounding slightly annoyed.
"Who can?" Yakko pressed.
"Not many. Only drawn toons, and only Class A's, which already narrows down the list to almost nothin'. Honestly, I don't know a toon drawn past 1940 who can do it. It was a big deal if you could blur back in the day, it was a status symbol. Lot a toons faked it too. For a while everyone thought Bosko could do it, but it turns out it was really his girlfriend, Honey, who could do it, and he was just taking all the credit. They split and she went off and did her own thing, which involved getting in serious debt with a bunch a' drug lords. They weren't exactly thrilled about that so they – " his eyes flicked to Dot's wide ones, and he faltered. " – they uh, disposed of her, so to speak."
"How?" she asked immediately. Out the corner of her eye she noticed Yakko shaking his head at Bugs frantically.
"Eh, use your imagination," Bugs said.
"Wrong thing to say," Yakko muttered, glaring darkly at Dot and Wakko.
"Point is most of the toons who could blur either disappeared or are sitting on their duffs in Palm Springs. It was just a wild guess, and speakin' a which it's the last time I make a wild guess in front of three nosy siblings."
"Stop it, I'm blushing," Yakko cooed.
As Bugs snapped something snarky back at him, Dot turned to the television screen. Rocky's mugshot had taken it over once again, dark and cold and still.
Wakko's arm softened to a putty consistency. He watched as Yakko grasped him by the forearm and wrist and took several steps back. Two steps, three steps…his arm stretched, it felt natural, no pain or tension. Bugs' rec room was large enough for Yakko to take forty steps if he wanted. Five steps. Six steps.
"Okay sib, hold it steady," Yakko commanded.
Yakko began to count to ten, but Wakko already knew he'd make it. His arm felt fine, it had been feeling fine for weeks, if it were up to him he wouldn't be doing these dumb exercises anymore.
"When can I go outside again?" he asked, looking at his arm.
"nine…ten…okay, release," Yakko muttered. Wakko coiled his arm back, letting the bones resettle into themselves.
"When can I go – "
"You can go outside," Yakko cut over him, "give me your arm again."
"I mean somewhere that's not Bugs' backyard," Wakko sighed as his brother pulled.
Yakko's eyes flicked to him for the briefest moment. "I told you, I don't know. Hopefully soon. For now we just have to be patient and wait."
"I'm so sick of this," Wakko growled. He turned toward the window. Bugs' house overlooked a rare, lonely part of the Hollywood Hills, where only a few other houses were nestled in its mass. Since they'd gone into hiding, he'd gotten to know Bugs' house very well. Yakko had described Bugs' décor as "retro chic meets zealous liberal meets classy millionaire" but Wakko chose to call it "bizarre." Most of the house was sleek and modern with all kinds of strange artwork, but every now and then a classic Hollywood movie poster or old piece of memorabilia graced its midst. His favorite was a pie tin that Bob Hope had signed.
"I missed the whole summer being cooped up in this stupid place. I feel like I'm going crazy."
"Okay, release," Yakko said again. Wakko's arm solidified. "Look, I don't like it anymore than you do, alright? It's like Baby Jane but without the rat. But would you rather us all be in jail, or dragged off to god knows where by those weasels?"
In his head, Wakko knew he made sense. But Yakko had said the same thing to him for weeks, and he was tired of it making sense, he was tired of the cowardly logic. "But we wouldn't go to jail, we didn't do anything," he muttered petulantly. Somewhere in his mind he knew he was starting an argument, but he didn't care.
"I told you," Yakko said, hints of irritation clear, "Bugs doesn't think the cops are on the up and up. Daffy did some digging and they think the police are corrupt from within. It explains why no one's – "
"- found the kidnapped people yet, I know," Wakko grumbled.
"Let alone stopped the kidnappers themselves. And that, sib, is why we are spending the foreseeable future on Isle de Rabbit."
"Is that what Bugs really calls his house?"
"No, thankfully. I just made that up. But c'mon, it's not so bad, this place is huge, I bet the basement has a basement."
Wakko rolled his eyes. "I don't care if there are six basements, I want to get out of here. Just let me go down the street, anything, I won't get caught."
Yakko gave him a stern eyebrow quirk. "Riiight," he drawled, "famous last words."
"I'm not going to do a dance and say 'here I am, kidnap me please!'" Wakko snapped, "I'm not stupid. Just let me go outside for five minutes. Who's going to catch me in five minutes?"
"The same guys who caught Brain, who's smarter than you and me combined," Yakko reasoned. "Now stand up straight, we'll do some target practice. By the time that's done I'm sure we'll have filled our pointless argument quota for the day."
Yakko pulled a tennis ball from his hammerspace and held it next to his head. Concentrating, Wakko struck out with his arm, which stretched until his fingers wrapped satisfyingly around the tennis ball. He pulled it back and dropped the ball in his own hammerspace. As Yakko repeated the action with his other hand, Wakko glared at him. "How am I supposed to go school, huh? It starts this week you know." He knew he was grabbing at straws. Really, school? He knew Yakko was going to see right through that and stomp all over it, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to make it any easier for Yakko than his brother was for him.
"Wow, I'm so glad you're taking such an interest in your education. I guess Bugs and I will have to give you extra homework," Yakko said nonchalantly as he held a tennis ball at arm's length.
"What?" Wakko yelped, missing the ball entirely and punching Yakko in shoulder by mistake.
"You trying to put me in rehab too?" Yakko grumbled as he rubbed his shoulder. "And you heard me right, Bugs and I will be teaching you and Dot until we get this mess sorted out. Bugs knows his stuff, and I'll be there to make sure you guys do your homework when you and Dot try to weasel – er, worm your way out of it."
"No way, Bugs? Teaching? Sweet, now he can show me all the cool stuff he shows you!" Wakko said, unable to stop a grin.
"Don't get ahead of yourself sib, you're still working on tennis balls," Yakko said, and he gave the one he was holding a small shake.
Wakko rolled his eyes and snatched it out of Yakko's hand. "I can learn it, I'd be a Class A candidate if it weren't for my stupid arm. And if I learn that stuff I can help you and Bugs look for the kidnappers."
Yakko's eyebrow performed another familiar arch. "What makes you think I'm off gallivanting with Bugs doing vigilante work?"
"'Cause I saw you the other night. You and Bugs shapeshifted your faces before you left, Bugs looked like a human and you made yourself look like a dog. I could still tell it was you though."
Yakko looked at him sharply. "You could? What gave me away?"
"Your eyes still looked the same. And your tail started to change back to normal too."
"Damn, I always forget that…" Yakko muttered to himself. Then he blinked and narrowed his eyes at Wakko. "You know I'd prefer it if you didn't spy on me, Nathan Hale. If I catch you at it again – "
"You didn't catch me, I just told you – "
"If I find out you were spying on me again," Yakko said, punctuating each word, "you will be one hundred percent grounded."
"How is that different from now?" Wakko grumbled.
"You think your freedom is limited now? Wait til you see what I can do," Yakko threatened, holding out another ball.
Wakko snatched it from him roughly. "Just let me do something, I can help – I want to help. And what's the big deal if I learn some stuff? Don't you want me to learn?"
"Of course I want you to learn. I want you to learn that you should listen to me when I say some things are just over your head at the moment. I would also like you to learn to clean your room, but one can only dream."
"But how do you know it's over my head until you let me try?" Wakko pleaded, realizing that he sounded dangerously close to whining, "I'm not stupid, and I want to solve this so we can go home! Why can't I learn what you do so I can protect myself, if we run into the same guys that got Slappy I know they have DIP and I don't want to – "
Wakko quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but judging by the look on his brother's face it was too late. It was a rare moment where he talked too much and let something slip to Yakko, usually it was the other way around. But Yakko was staring at him now, mouth hanging open, tennis ball clutched tightly in his fist.
"I…forget I said that," Wakko said quickly.
"Don't think so, I've got a good memory," Yakko said ominously, his eyes narrowing, "what was that about DIP?"
"Hey, look at that sky," Wakko blurted, frantically looking for a distraction, "it sure is…big…today."
"You want to get back to that DIP part?"
Wakko backed up several steps. "Uh, I have to go. Potty emergency, you understand."
He dashed out of the room, ignoring Yakko's shouts of protest.
By the end of September, fifty toons had gone missing. By mid October the toll was up to sixty-two.
From what Yakko gathered on the news, most toons traveled in large groups or not at all. Many parents were home schooling their children, while many more had lost or quit their jobs. Even the humans were trying to get involved, but it was at their own risk – it was far too dangerous for a human to enter a hostile Toontown. One dropped anvil meant one very dead human. Their own faces appeared on the news regularly; the fact that they had disappeared only seemed to fuel the rumor that they were on a murderous rampage. Paranoia was sweeping through the streets of Toontown, his home, and Yakko could do nothing but watch it on a television screen.
While he regularly slipped out with Bugs to look for something, anything to link to the crime, most of his time was spent confined to the Bunny estate. Restlessness had begun to creep in over the summer. By the end of October Yakko was certain he was going to lose his mind. He had memorized every corner of Bugs' house, every tile, every bit of crown molding. He could recite, in order, the paintings per room per floor. He had the dates on every statuette in the awards room memorized, and this was after he gave Bugs a hard time for having an award room at all. He could walk the backyard blindfolded if he wanted to – and he tried it. Out of sheer boredom. If that wasn't enough, he had two siblings who reminded him every minute of every day that they were bored. When he asked them if they'd still be bored if he tried strangling them, they seemed eager to do a trial run.
Bright spots were few and far between, and they mostly came in the form of rabbits. Living with Bugs certainly had its advantages – the rabbit was like a walking, talking encyclopedia that had crossbred with an over-enthusiastic professor. He seemed to love passing on little facts to Yakko, showing him small but useful skills and always testing him. He showed him how to walk on the ceiling and how to make small things explode, and every day Bugs somehow found a way to engage him in some kind of verbal battle.
But it didn't always seem to be about teaching. There were times where Bugs just wanted to sit down and watch a movie with him. Other times Bugs insisted that Yakko join him for lunch, and they'd spend the next hour chattering away. Some nights he just asked Yakko questions, and the next thing he knew Yakko found that he'd been talking to the rabbit for hours. At first it confused him. Yakko couldn't remember a single adult who'd regarded him with any amount of concern aside from saying "poor thing with no parents and two young kids to raise" or "watch your mouth!" He couldn't understand why Bugs seemed to have a genuine interest in what he had to say. Surely it was some kind of front. There had to be an ulterior motive.
But as the weeks wore on Yakko began to notice that spending time with Bugs had become routine and, even more shocking, that he felt as though he could tell the rabbit anything. That was certainly a new sentiment that he had never expressed to an adult before. It frightened him a little, to trust someone so completely, but at the same time it was wonderfully freeing. For the first time he didn't feel like he had to do everything himself. For the first time, Yakko felt like he had someone to fall back on.
On top of hanging out with Bugs, Buster and Babs visited him almost daily. They were staying with Buster's parents, a drastic throwback to their teen years. Buster would come over and Yakko would milk him dry of information: what he'd heard, what he'd seen, what he'd suspected. Yakko was ravenous for tidbits of the outside world, but Buster only had so much to give him. Most toons were getting too paranoid to speak for – as far as the public knew – anyone could be the kidnappers. Sometimes Buster would stay the night at Bugs' house, claiming that he didn't think it was safe to drive home that night. But Yakko knew that Buster was only staying because he knew Yakko needed it, and Yakko appreciated that more than Buster would ever know.
But living with Buster's parents seemed to be taking its toll on Babs. She wouldn't reveal much, but it appeared that Buster's parents thought very little of her staying in the same room as their darling Buster, among other things. As such, Babs began spending more and more of her time at Bugs' place, with or without Buster. She'd flop on the couch next to Yakko and they'd talk kidnappers and weasels and theories and corrupted police and victims, but before long it would turn into general chatter about nothing in particular. Then Yakko would throw a joke in here or there and she'd goofily throw wisecracks at him, but he'd forget to respond because he'd be following the lush curve of her cheeks. If it wasn't that then he'd be distracted by the way her fingers moved as she absently played with her ears.
The worst was when Babs laughed. He'd recently discovered that he loved when she laughed, especially if he was the cause. She'd wrinkle her nose and smile at him with all her teeth while her eyes became alight. The sound of her laughter was like nothing he'd ever heard. He was addicted to it.
He wished he had a point of reference. If he could only compare these feelings to those he'd had with another girl, he might be less lost. But Yakko couldn't remember his heart beating this way to the sight of another girl, nor had he laid in his bed at night, using the moments before sleep to think of such a girl the way he did with Babs. He was Yakko Warner for crying out loud. He didn't obsess over some girl. It was usually the other way around.
There was a part of him that knew all of this was a bad idea. It would bellow at him from the back of his brain, like someone trying to yell above the roar of the engine that the plane was about to crash, that he shouldn't be actively attempting to get his best friend's girlfriend to laugh. But Yakko couldn't help talking to her to her any more than he could help talking to Bugs; it just felt natural to spend time around Babs, and the more he did it the more he couldn't stop.
And so he found himself sitting at the kitchen table across from Babs as she babbled away to Bugs. They'd been discussing the kidnappings for the better part of an hour, but seemed to have mutually agreed on a mental reprieve from that topic and had moved on to the finer points of toon television.
"It's slop, all of it, have you watched TV recently?" Babs challenged, gesturing wildly with her fork. "It's bad, like, Jenny Jones bad, especially for us ladies. The only girls they put in front of the camera these days are top-heavy bimbos whose default reaction is to giggle like an idiot."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Yakko joked, hiding a smirk behind his glass.
Babs swatted at him playfully before continuing, "I demand some quality! I want intellectual caviar, not cotton candy!"
Bugs rolled his eyes. "Look out everyone, she's rolling out the metaphors."
"I'm serious! Just watch, I'm going to make it happen," Babs challenged.
"Oh I'll watch alright. I've been watching you make things happen since you was in diapers," Bugs said, leaning back into his chair and gnawing on a carrot.
"Diapers? Really?" Yakko stated, grinning at her.
"I'm an old family friend," Bugs said, reaching over to tweak Babs' ear. She ducked out of the way, which Yakko assumed was born of years of practice as opposed to quick reflexes.
"You know that annoying uncle you don't want at family events but you have to invite him anyway?" Babs drawled to Yakko, "Yeah, that's Bugs."
This time Bugs caught her in the ear, making her yelp and laugh. "Well, your 'annoying uncle' wants to know just how you plan to revolutionize television as we know it."
"You know how they say if you want something done right…" Babs began.
Her back had straightened, and she was adopting that look of utmost confidence that Yakko found undeniably sexy. Then Yakko rebuked himself for thinking anything Babs did was sexy and he gave himself a quick smack in the face that went unnoticed by either rabbit.
"…I'm going to do it myself," Babs continued, "Once all this craziness is over, I mean. I'm going to stage my attack from within. Instead of being in front of the camera, I'm going to be behind it."
Bugs raised his eyebrows with interest, and Yakko turned to her, his ears perking. "Really? Doing what?"
She turned to face him as well, and Yakko couldn't help but notice that she had reclined into herself a bit, and she chewed her lip nervously. It was for the best, really – if she'd thrown the confident look at him again he probably would have fallen off his chair.
"Well, I was thinking," she said hesitantly, her bravado waning, "maybe…producer?"
"Producer, really?" Yakko said excitedly, "Babs, you'd be a fantastic producer, as opposed to…well…pretty much every producer."
"You think so?" Babs asked, jumping immediately back into confident mode. Yakko suddenly felt very lightheaded, and he quickly gulped down the rest of his drink. When he put his glass down, he locked eyes with Bugs, who as giving him the wryest look he'd ever seen.
With a sigh, Dot fell back onto her bed and was nearly enveloped by the massive quilt Bugs had given her. Another boring end to another boring day. Bugs had shown her how to detach and reattach her tail, which had been mildly interesting. Other than that she had spent most of her day talking to Skippy on the phone, giving names to the houseplants, and getting in an argument with Wakko that had eventually involved two pelicans and a bowling ball.
If she had to stay in this house for much longer she was going to lose her marbles.
A knock on her door prompted her to look at her clock. Yakko was right on time for his nightly rounds. But when he stepped into her room she noticed that his back was slouched and his footsteps were heavy. He all but fell onto her bed as he sat down, rubbing the bases of his ears.
"Hey sib," he muttered.
"How'd it go?" Dot asked, somewhat resentfully. She was well aware he'd spent most of the day with Bugs patrolling the streets.
"Oh, it was great. We found nothing, which was a real change of pace from the day before when we found nothing. Bugs wants to go out tomorrow too, and if I were to hazard a guess I think we'll find nothing. It really boosts the morale, you know, all this finding nothing business…"
It wasn't long before his talk degenerated into rambling, a frustrated outpouring of words that ran wild like a tethered dog who'd been let free. Talking had always seemed to soothe Yakko, though Dot wasn't entirely sure why aside from the fact that maybe it just seemed normal. But this wasn't normal, it wasn't glib and clever, this was defeated and discouraged and tired. Despite all of it, he seemed more real to her now. He wasn't lording his age over her, he wasn't trying to parent her. He was just Yakko, her brother.
Now that he'd made it impossible to stay mad at him, Dot scooted across the covers and wrapped her arms around his torso. Yakko stopped midsentence to look down at her, startled, before melting into a small smile and returning the hug.
"Is this your new tactic to get me to shut my yap?" he asked, chuckling.
"Sometimes it's the only thing that works," she replied, leaning her head against him.
"I approve," he said.
They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the other's breathing. Dot shut her eyes when Yakko began to stroke her hair, letting all the anxiety and anger fade with each pass.
"I'm sorry you had a bad day," she said after a while.
Yakko sighed. "It's not your fault. Huh, if anything it's mine."
"Oh come off it. You're such a drama queen."
"So I've been told."
Another pause.
"I miss my old life," she mumbled into his shirt.
"I know," Yakko murmured as he stroked her hair. "But we're together. That's something, right?"
Dot shrugged. "I guess."
"You guess? What kind of answer is that?"
"I'm just kidding," she teased, then giggled and squirmed when Yakko ruffled her ears playfully.
"You're a laugh a minute, Dot Warner," Yakko drawled. He paused for a minute, then suddenly squeezed her very tightly, drawing her close to his chest. His grip was vice-like, as though he was trying to prevent someone from dragging her away.
"Ah, practicing your boa constrictor impression I see," Dot managed to choke out.
Yakko didn't answer at first. He just held her. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly tight. "You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right?" he asked.
"I'm going to have a very boring life if that's the case," Dot mused.
"You know what I mean."
Frowning, Dot pulled back to look at him squarely. He seemed as though he was going on thirty years, not twenty. "Did you take an anvil to the head while you were gone? Of course I know that. You still try to open my mail so I don't get papercuts. By the way, that has to stop."
"You know what they say about old habits," he muttered.
Dot nodded. "They were young once."
"Exactly," Yakko replied. He bent low to drop a quick kiss on her forehead.
Wakko peered over the edge of his sketchbook, careful not to pull attention to himself. He glanced back down, sketched in a few lines, and looked back up. He was curled up in the corner of Bugs' drawing room, ironically, sketching his subjects from across the room as discreetly as possible. Yakko and Babs were sitting at the far table, appearing to be playing a game of cards but really just trying to distract the other. Wakko didn't really understand why Yakko, who had never really given a crap about Babs when they lived on the lot, suddenly found her so interesting to talk to, but whatever. Right now they were making perfect sketch subjects.
Wakko inspected his drawing. Babs looked okay he supposed, but Yakko looked way off, like a dog that had just gotten run over. They always said it was harder to draw yourself, and he looked so much like Yakko that it was pretty much the same thing.
Maybe it was his snout that was off. Just as Wakko placed his pencil down to adjust the curve, the door burst open and a shrill scream shattered the calm. Wakko jumped, scratching a thick dark line across his sketch.
"Babs!"
"Shirley!"
Babs left Yakko at the table as she dashed into the arms of her friend. There was a lot of shrieking and bouncing up and down. An uninformed observer would think that Babs and Shirley had both suddenly gone into fits, or maybe were partaking in some kind of weird ritual. Wakko glanced at Yakko, who just gave him a deadpan stare. He slapped his sketchbook shut and glared at Shirley. Her abrupt entrance had reminded him so vividly of the weasel lunging at him that his heart was nearly breaking through his chest. And he ruined his drawing too. Crap.
"I like missed you!"
"I missed you too!"
As the girls giggled and clutched at each other, Yakko joined them and added in a mockingly girlish tone, "Oh my god, I missed you too!"
"Hi Yakko," Shirley said as Babs hung from her neck, "oh, and like, hey Wakko."
Wakko gave her a small wave as Yakko asked, "So what brings you around these parts?"
"Well I hadn't seen Babs in like, an age, and it was doing horrible things to my inner spirit," Shirley said, "so I totally talked Bugs into letting me visit."
"I'll have to thank that rabbit," Babs commented to herself.
"You guys, like, epic madness with those weasels, ya know?" Shirley said, smacking some gum. Wakko nodded, hoping she was referring to the attack on Buster's house but not entirely sure.
"You could say it was epic," Yakko said, "I'd be more likely to go with traumatic or scarring, but that's just me."
"Traumatic, huh? Traumatic, like, how?" Shirley pressed. Out of her hammerspace came a pad of paper and a pen.
Yakko cocked an eyebrow. "Am I on record?"
Shirley shook Babs off and bounced up to Yakko, nearly shoving the pen up his nose. "You have to like, spill your beans Yak! If I crack this case, I could like totally go back to being a real reporter again! I've been doing some research, and you know what, there's some really bum vibes shaking up this scene."
"No kidding," Babs drawled.
Shirley gestured for them to gather closer as though someone was trying to eavesdrop. Babs grabbed Wakko and Yakko by the arms and pulled them in.
"Okay, so like, you know how Montana Max lost that ToonGO thing to that Oswald dude?" Shirley whispered.
"Oh, do I," Yakko said, grinning dreamily.
"So like as much as I detest the snotbag, he really shouldn't have lost it," Shirley continued. "I mean, he's so rich it makes me want to like, gag myself. And I checked with the BBB, and there's like, no record of Oswald handing over a dime. No invoice, no check, zilch. Don't ya think that's a little whack?"
Wakko nodded forcefully, making Yakko frown.
"I looked like, forever, I even totally skipped an episode of Bruin Beats which sucks because she's been broadcasting from Malibu Hopes Rehab Center for Toons – "
"Shirley," Wakko, Yakko and Babs all said at once.
" – right. So I looked and the only thing I could find – like, the only thing – was a property agreement. Oswald didn't just lease or rent the ToonGO building…he bought the whole thing."
"But how? With what money?" Babs pressed, sounding almost petulant with desperation.
"He had a cosigner!" Shirley hissed rapidly.
"What's that?" Wakko blurted. He was so shocked Yakko hadn't ushered him out and shoved a pacifier in his mouth and he was determined not to miss a scrap of information. He wished he didn't sound so dumb asking though.
"A cosigner is someone who agrees to fulfill a person's loan if that person fails to do so," Yakko explained quickly, "Shirley, who was it?"
"Pete," she said.
"Pete?" Babs repeated, "Like, Pete Pete?"
Shirley nodded so that her hair flopped up and down. "Yeah, like Pete Pete."
Wakko and Yakko shared a look. It was like the girls spoke in code.
"But Pete's broke too! Probably even more broke than Oswald," Babs commented.
"That makes no sense Shirley," Yakko said bluntly.
"Like, I know that Yakko."
"Well what else did you find out?"
"What? Nothing. That was it."
"I thought you were an investigative reporter?"
"I am. Duh."
"So why didn't you investigate more?"
"I don't see you, like, investigating anything!"
"I can't leave this house, you'd know that if you'd do some investigating!"
"Well investigate this – "
Wakko jumped forward and pushed Yakko back while Babs wrapped her arms around Shirley and dragged her back as she glared at Yakko.
"Break it up you two," Babs snapped, "I know neither of you have exactly been living the dream lately, but we're running out of people we can trust so it would be kind of stupid if we started fighting with the people we can."
"She started it," Yakko so Shirley could hear. Wakko rolled his eyes. "Guardian" his ass, most of the time Yakko was just as big a child as Dot was. He, on the other hand, was well beyond his sixteen years. Of course.
"You know," Wakko said in wheedling tone, "none of this would be a problem if we could go outside."
"Which is why it's such a shame we can't," Yakko retorted.
Wakko's fists clenched. "C'mon Yakko! How are we supposed to figure out anything if we're just hiding here all the time!"
"And here I thought we'd had this argument already," Yakko drawled. Yakko turned to Babs, and that was it. Staring at Yakko's back, Wakko felt as though a trigger had been pulled inside him.
"Why are you so scared all the time?" Wakko roared.
This got Yakko's attention quicker than Wakko had expected. He turned back, giving Wakko a look he couldn't place. Shirley, whose eyes were going between both boys like she was watching a tennis match, was suddenly dragged away by her arm by Babs.
"Scared, huh? Is that what you call it? Protecting you guys?" Yakko said, his tone even in an intimidating sort of way.
"You say you're protecting us, but I don't know if that's true!" Wakko shouted. He was angry again, so quickly, he knew it had something to do with being so frustrated by the same stupid walls around him but suddenly words were coming out of his mouth and he had no idea where they'd come from or how to stop them. "We're stuck here because it's dangerous in Toontown, but it's dangerous in Toontown because we're not doing anything about it! And we could, we could do something! I know about the DIP, I know where the weasels have been, and now all this Pete stuff…I just, I just – "
"You think I haven't considered this?" Yakko snapped, taking advantage of Wakko's stumbling. "I think about it, I think about it every day Wakko. But I also think about the two of you, and how it's not worth it to me to risk your lives, or to risk my own life and leave you two behind – "
Wakko fired back, "But some things are worth it! I'm sick of sitting here being a loser with you! I'd rather be dead than be stuck at this house for another month – "
Wakko knew he'd gone too far even before Yakko bellowed, "THAT'S IT!" But he didn't care either. Yakko was very close to his face now, looking furious, and Wakko matched him. He was sure that if someone was watching them right now their faces would be almost identical in anger.
"I've had it!" Yakko yelled. "You don't want to be in this house anymore? You want to go out and hunt the bad guys down? Do you remember what happened the last time you did that?" Yakko jabbed Wakko in the shoulder of the arm he had hurt, and Wakko jerked roughly away. "You went out and you did something stupid and I had to come and save you. You don't get it Wakko! You don't think things through and you don't pay attention and if it doesn't hurt you it's gonna hurt one of us. We're not on a TV show anymore, the bad guys aren't gonna get knocked silly by an anvil and call it a day. And the fact that we're even having this pointless argument again…if you think for a second that I'm letting you set one foot outside the door then you've got another thing – "
Red hot anger, boiling in his chest, spilled over into Wakko's arms, bubbling past his elbows and then Wakko did something he'd never done before: he pushed Yakko. Hard. In the chest. Yakko stumbled a few steps backwards, the backs of his knees knocking into a chair. He blinked at Wakko in shock, something that was undeniably hurt flickering across his face, and Wakko fought back the strong urge to recoil and apologize. His brother looked for all the world like a whipped puppy, and it made Wakko sick to his stomach. But the heartbroken look on Yakko's face flipped into anger and Wakko braced himself, firmly believing, if only for a moment, that Yakko was going to push him back. His fists were clenched and shaking.
But after a few moments of heated glaring the tension fell out of Yakko's shoulders. "Just go to your room," he grumbled.
Wakkos stared back at him, breathing heavily. He supposed it was normal for brothers to push and hit each other, but then again, they weren't normal brothers. So Wakko had no idea how to answer Yakko other than that he was scared and angry and confused, and why couldn't Yakko, who had been sixteen once too, just explain to him how to feel and that he would be okay. But maybe Yakko couldn't explain anything to him. Maybe Yakko was just as confused and scared as he was, and that thought scared him more than anything else.
This was worse, bigger than the argument they'd had weeks ago. Something was different between them now. Something had broke. For a moment he wanted to run forward and cling to Yakko and say he was sorry, but the growling animal inside his chest would not let him do it.
"Go to your room, Wakko."
"Can't, we're living in someone else's house," Wakko retorted, already storming out of the room.
Sighing, Yakko dragged his hands over his face and ears and collapsed onto the couch. His face always had an unpleasant numb feeling to it after a day of shapeshifting it. While he found that he could hold a face for nearly two hours, the last fifteen minutes of which were like getting his skin peeled off before he finally had to take a break and shift back again. His features would feel slack and rubbery, and it would be hard to form words for minutes before the feeling came back. He usually took the form of a dog; it was easiest, he already had the snout. If he didn't turn into a dog, it was a rabbit. It felt right, though he couldn't place why.
Bugs was at his desk, paging through an enormous stack of papers while a spectacular blaze roared in the fireplace. Yakko would have been impressed had it not been one of those fireplaces that spring to life at the touch of a button. He didn't quite get why Bugs had it on either; perhaps it had something to do with the fact that it was November now and it was seasonal to have a nice fire going. Too bad it was Los Angeles and it had been a balmy seventy-four degrees that day.
"They officially announced a production freeze in Toontown today," Bugs said suddenly, not looking up from the papers. "No toon in the union can work until this kidnapping thing gets sorted out."
Yakko grunted in response.
Bugs continued, "Sometimes I need to take my mind off it, so I thought I'd catch up on some paperwork. My agent threw this at me a year ago – wait, make that two years ago…yikes…anyway, some fanatic decided to pen my biography and they want my approval on it. It's eh, not really War and Peace, but it can be pretty damn entertaining."
Staring into the fire, Yakko nodded.
"You're quiet," Bugs commented, glancing up from the manuscript, "I don't get to say that very often, thought I'd take advantage."
Yakko shrugged. "It's nothing. Just have a lot on my mind."
"Such as?"
"I thought you had to read your life story?" Yakko said, quirking an eyebrow.
"Already know it," Bugs quipped, "c'mon doc, it's either you talking or me reading more about my failed romances on my path to stardom."
Yakko snorted. "Well, when you put it that way…" he paused, weighing the words in his mouth and wondering if they would make him sound pathetic if he let them loose, "…do you ever feel like you've made all the wrong decisions?"
"Hindsight's twenty twenty, doc," Bugs said softly.
"I know, but sometimes I feel like I've screwed up the sibs' lives, and my friends lives…I mean, look where we are. I dragged my sibs across the country because I thought it would be good for us, and then I dragged them back, and all I've managed to do is get make my friends homeless and my sibs wanted criminals on the run."
Bugs tossed the manuscript behind him with a heavy thump. "No wonder you were on Broadway, kid. You've got quite the flair for the dramatic. The way I see things is that you gave your brother and sister a diverse education and kept everyone as safe as possible from a situation that's out of your control."
Yakko watched the flames pop and crack. "Wakko and Dot barely talk to me," he said after a moment.
"They definitely don't have a problem yelling at you," Bugs said. Yakko shot him a sharp glare, and Bugs raised his hands. "Kiddin', kiddin'…but you have to admit that brother a' yours has a set of lungs when he decides to use them."
Yakko sighed and hefted his head into his hands when Bugs got up from the desk and moved to a chair that was closer to the fire. "They're teenagers, Yakko. You were one once – hey, still one now – don't you remember how it felt?" he asked.
"I didn't have time to be a teenager," Yakko said without looking at him.
"Then maybe that's why you can't see it their way," Bugs said, "you've worked hard to give them as normal of a life as a toon's gonna get and your reward is them just being normal teenagers. Their worlds are so small right now, so the tiniest rumble to them feels like an earthquake. Trust me, I've seen more rugrats grow up on that lot than I have cartoons, and it's always the same: drop one anvil on someone's foot and you might as well have dropped the whole factory on their head. Wakko and Dot had a lot of things thrown at them in the last year, and they're just reacting to it."
Yakko nodded, feeling marginally better. It was like Bugs was reminding him of what he already knew.
"I guess they're just growing up whether I like it or not. And they're so smart as they get older too, they're so talented. But, huh, sometimes I wish they wouldn't grow at all," he said, thinking about how Wakko had pushed him and Skippy's perfume.
When he looked up from the fire he found Bugs was watching him with some amusement, as though he was observing a child discover how to snap his fingers.
"I know, I know, anymore schmaltz and you're going to ship me over to Disney," Yakko drawled.
"I wouldn't do that, Plotz would force-feed me your contract," Bugs replied.
Yakko snorted. A few moments passed in silence aside from the cracks and pops of the fire. Without turning his head Yakko glanced at Bug. He was staring into the fire now too, the orange flames reflecting glossily in eyes.
"Bugs," he said quietly, suddenly wanting to back out but knowing it was too late, "what's it like not to get older?"
When Bugs didn't answer Yakko gulped, anxious that he had really offended him or prodded too far. But finally Bugs cleared his throat and stared into the fireplace.
"It's like a movie that you started watching in the middle, but it keeps going…no beginning, no end," he said, sounding unusually old.
Yakko watched the rabbit intently, not daring to speak for fear he'd throw him off.
"I've never regret being drawn," he continued, "but it's hard to look around sometimes and remember the old days, when I was doing what I was drawn to do…make cartoons…things have changed so much. And you have this drive…see, when you're drawn you have a purpose, and it pushes you and pushes you. It took me years – decades – to come to terms with it. But if there's one thing I'll never quite get over, it's watching the world and the people around you change, grow old, die…"
Bugs was staring into the fire as though it was an odd specimen he was examining, and Yakko held very still.
"You have to make sure you have friends who are like you. You have to pray that a family was drawn with you," Bugs continued, "apparently I have a nephew, Clyde, but there wasn't much affection drawn in between us and we haven't spoken in years."
"I couldn't imagine not having my family," Yakko said quietly. He hadn't meant to interrupt, but he couldn't keep the shocked words from spilling out of his mouth. Bugs spoke about it too matter-of-factly.
"With the family you got, I can see why," Bugs said, chuckling, "Wakko's this quiet ball of creativity, and Dot's got more sass in her pinky finger than most toons have in their whole body. They're amazing, and I'm glad I got the chance to watch them grow, even if it's only been these few months. And you…"
With Bugs' attention on him now, Yakko pulled back. This was not the mischievous and enigmatic rabbit from the cartoons; he was grounded now. Very real. He didn't look his age, but he radiated it.
Bugs sighed and said, "Most drawn toons decide not to have kids. Giving birth to a fuzzy little toon would mean watching that him grow and die while you stood still, so I never bothered having a kid of my own…"
Breaking off, he looked at Yakko. There was a small smile on his face that had hints of sadness at the corners. Yakko could not remember any adult ever looking at him in that way before.
"But then I found you running around the lot," Bugs said.
Yakko's eyes widened. For once in his life he wasn't sure what to say and, even more unusually, he chose to stay silent. But he couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from hooking upwards, seemingly prompted by the burst of warmth in his chest. He wanted to say something to Bugs, something he'd been meaning to say for a while now, something sincere and unlike the sarcastic remarks he usually treated the rabbit with. But the words hesitated in his throat, as though they had gotten trapped in the tangle of thorns that had grown in the years since he'd been abandoned by the only parent he'd known.
As though to save him from the ensuing awkward silence, the doorbell rang and startled both of them. Yakko glanced at the clock on the wall.
"That's gotta be Buster," Yakko said.
"He's late," Bugs said, frowning at the clock.
"Well actually he's routinely half an hour late, so I'd say he's right on time," Yakko retorted.
"I should really be getting back to that draft anyway," Bugs said hurriedly as he stood up, leaving the manuscript on the floor.
Yakko nodded. "Yeah I uh, should probably answer the door – "
"Yeah – "
"Yeah."
Yakko didn't make eye contact with Bugs as they parted from opposite sides of the room. Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Yakko followed the maze of hallways to the front door. The security camera outside fed into a screen that hung just above the archway. Buster was currently making faces into the camera, which showed up on grainy feed. Rolling his eyes, Yakko opened the door. Buster smirked at him. He was soaked from head to toe.
"Practicing your breast stroke?" Yakko asked sarcastically, nodding to the water that was dripping from Buster's ears.
"You know, everything sounds like a double entendre coming from you," Buster commented, slipping past Yakko's arm and into the foyer. He collapsed into modern-looking chair, unconcerned with the fact that there was water already pooling at his ankles.
"What's up? You miss me too much?" Yakko said as he shut the door.
Buster looked up from beneath his brow. "Max is gone."
Yakko locked the deadbolt much quicker than necessary. "Montana?" he gasped. As Buster nodded solemnly, he muttered, "What happened?"
"Don't know. His limo got hijacked. Shirley told me he got in the car but it wasn't his chauffer in the front seat. They drove off an no one's heard from him since."
Falling back against the door, Yakko ran a hand through his ears. True, he wasn't Max's biggest fan, but that didn't mean he wanted him kidnapped.
"I guess we can cross him off our list of suspects then," Yakko said.
Buster nodded. "No one seems to be going out their way to find him."
Suddenly Yakko was reminded vividly of the months and months ago when he sat on Buster's bed and gloated with his friend over Max's lost bid for ToonGO. An unpleasant twinge of guilt pricked his chest.
"That wasn't the only reason I came over," Buster said.
"No, I'm not going to try to identify that thing you found in your hammerspace," Yakko said wearily.
"No," Buster said, watching him, "I wanna talk about Babs."
Yakko, who was still leaning against the door, stiffened. Perhaps it was best if he unlocked the door. It would make it much easier for him to sprint out of it, should Buster suddenly try to mallet him to death and the need arose.
"What about her?" Yakko asked, wincing as his voice jumped several pitches.
"Sometimes I think…I swear…she's after another guy," Buster said slowly.
Yakko wondered if Buster would find it suspicious if he suddenly passed out, because that's what he felt like doing.
"That's crazy," Yakko blurted.
"Ugh, I know. It's not like she off meeting dudes anyway, if she's not at my house then she's here," Buster said, rubbing his face.
Yakko leaned against the door for support. It was fine, Buster didn't suspect anything…but the fact that Buster had not even entertained the thought that Yakko would ever take advantage of his time alone with Babs made him feel like lowest creature in the world.
But he hadn't done anything. He had no reason to feel guilty. Right?
Buster sighed, "I just…I don't know man. I don't get what happened. It was so…so easy for us to be together before. It just seemed obvious. But now I feel like I can't do anything right when she's around, and we'd fight but now…nothing. We don't argue, but we say anything else either. Is that worse?"
Yakko blinked, realizing Buster was talking to him. His brain had derailed slightly, as he was thinking of all the times Babs had talked to him for hours. He gulped but it just felt like a dry glob in his throat; Yakko tried to focus on Buster, tried to push out all thoughts of Babs from his head because he was certain that Buster was going to be able to read his mind and figure out what a bastard of a friend Yakko was being.
"I don't know Ears," Yakko lied, "I mean, have you tried listening to her?"
"I just told you she won't talk to me."
"I know I know, before the vow of silence."
"Well yeah, I'm not stupid, but it's like she was trying to change who I was. I mean, we've known each other for like ten years now, she has to get that I'm not just going to spend my nights sipping tea and knitting doilies," Buster said.
Yakko pretended to interested in his gloves. "I don't think that's what she's going for dude. Maybe she just wants you to be more reliable. Just a guess."
"Way to be on my side, ass."
"I'm just trying to help you out!" Yakko said, raising his hands.
Frowning, Buster stared at him with uncertain eyes. Yakko sucked in a breath, willing himself to look as normal as possible but suddenly finding that very hard to do. After a few tense moments, Buster's face softened and he looked at Yakko in the familiar, friendly way he always had. With a pang, Yakko felt he didn't deserve it
"I know dude, I'm sorry," Buster said. He got up and zipped his jacket to the neck before stuffing his hands back in his pockets. "Thanks for listening to me, even though I know that's hard for you."
"Dick."
"Asshole."
Yakko snorted and Buster grinned.
"Seriously though," Buster said, more earnest this time.
"Don't worry about it," Yakko said, "I'm just sorry I couldn't give you a better answer."
Buster shrugged. "No worries. I mean, look at you, you're Yakko Warner. What would you know about girl trouble?"
Even though Buster grinned as he said this, there was a tinge of irony to it that Yakko wasn't sure if he imagined or not. Meeting his friend's gaze, it occurred to Yakko that Buster had never acknowledged any time that had passed since Yakko had left for New York. To Buster he was still seventeen, still wild and callous and careless. As far as Buster was concerned, Yakko had never grown up.
"More than you'd think," Yakko whispered to himself as Buster ducked into the rain.
NOTE: Readers, you guys rock. I know the pace has been a little slow, but I promise your patience will be rewarded very soon.