A bit more angst in this one.
The castle had a few other rooms that the Warners only visited briefly, as these particular rooms held little of interest for the kids. One was the room where their parents (and later Salazar) had met with the royal council, and it looked just like your average boardroom. Then there was the vault that was supposed to hold the royal treasury, but it wasn't nearly as full as it ought to be. The kids wondered what Salazar had done with all of the money that he and his tax collectors had stolen from the ordinary people of Warnerstock.
Wakko began to feel hungry again, which prevented the kids from checking out the tallest tower (and Yakko was fine with that).
Yakko, Wakko, and Dot spent the night in their former nursery, and they all huddled up together in one bed, just as they had done the last time they had slept in here. Wakko lay on Yakko's left-hand side, and Dot lay on Yakko's right-hand side, with the two younger ones reclining comfortably against their big brother. They asked a few more questions.
"Why do I sound different from you guys?" the drowsy Wakko asked. He had noticed from the earlier flashbacks that neither of his parents shared his accent.
"Mom was confused about your accent, too," Yakko admitted. "Dad said he had some family in this city called Liverpool-that's in England-and he said they talked that way. Dad said their accent must've skipped a couple of generations, and Mom said, 'Bill, I don't think accents work that way.' Then Dad said, 'Have you got a better explanation, Angie?' Then Mom said, 'Nope! Let's just go with that one.'"
Dot giggled, but Wakko snored.
"Aw," Yakko said, "didn't he hear any of that?"
"I think he heard it up to the point where Dad said the accent skipped a couple of generations," Dot said with a yawn. "Did Mom and Dad really do it?"
"What?" Yakko said in slight alarm.
"Did they really tell me I was the cutest girl?" Dot clarified.
"They sure did," Yakko said. "Every single night."
"Am I going to have a flashback about it?" Dot asked, yawning again. "If I already know what happened, is there much point to it?"
"Like I said earlier, it's nice to actually see it," Yakko replied.
Dot felt too tired to get a full flashback.
"Tell us your name, young lady!" William said.
"Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fana Bo Besca the Third," the barely one-year-old Dot recited. Her voice was a strange mix of cutesy and haughty. "But you can call me Dot!"
"Can we call you Dottie?" Angelina asked.
"No," Dot said. "Just Dot. Call me Dottie and you DIE!"
From the time Dot was a newborn, the whole family knew she hated being called Dottie. However, this was the very first time she said, "Call me Dottie and you die." For a moment, William, Angelina, Yakko, and Wakko all stared at Dot in stunned silence. Then, Angelina started to laugh, and so did the rest of the family.
A little later, once they were sure the kids were asleep, William asked, "Where do you think she came up with that, Angel?"
"I don't know," Angelina said, "but call me Angel again and I'll annihilate you."
"Sorry, honey!" William said quickly. "I forgot." From the time William and Angelina were first engaged, Angelina had made it very clear that she was alright with being called Angie, but not Angel.
Dot giggled at the end of the flashback, and even Yakko laughed. Like mother, like daughter.
After half an hour or so, both Wakko and Dot managed to sleep soundly, but their snoring got on Yakko's nerves. Looking around at the empty room, at the spot where an armchair used to be, Yakko couldn't help but have another flashback, and he was glad that his siblings were not awake to see this one:
In the days following Dad's death, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot really didn't want to sleep alone. They all stayed together in Yakko's bed, with their little hands clinging to each other for reassurance.
Something was wrong with Mom, too, and it was Yakko who noticed it the most. Despite many adults considering Yakko as hyper, silly, and uncontrollable as Wakko and Dot, he was probably the most observant. After all, one needed to observe the quirks and flaws of others in order to develop a quick wit.
Yakko noticed that Mom had not done anything "toon-y" since Dad died. No producing objects out of nowhere or other such things. Maybe she was too sad. Sometimes Mom didn't seem sad, but scared, and she wouldn't answer any questions that Yakko or the other kids asked her. Usually Mom was willing to indulge her children's curiosity, as she encouraged inquisitiveness, but now she would either give vague answers that naturally led to more questions from Yakko, or she would get snappy.
One night, only a week after Dad's funeral, Mom was in the nursery, putting the kids to bed. She would remind Dot of the "cutest girl" routine they used to have with Dad, telling it in the form of a fairytale, but Mom didn't seem into telling the story tonight, so Yakko did it for her.
"You're such a good helper, Yakko," Mom said with a sad smile, and she gently nuzzled Yakko's nose. Wakko and Dot were both asleep now. Wakko sucked his thumb and Dot snored.
"Can you stay with us tonight, Mommy?" Yakko asked. "I'm not asking because I'm scared," he added quickly. "I just don't want you to feel lonely."
"That's nice of you, sweetheart," Mom said, "but there's no shame in being scared."
"I'm not scared," Yakko said stubbornly.
"Okay, I'm just saying it so you know," Mom said. She tucked Yakko in, then kissed all three kids before going to sit in the armchair.
"See, I'm staying right here." That was all the reassurance Yakko needed for now.
The next thing Yakko knew, he would find himself hiding in the castle's tallest tower with his mother and siblings, with little understanding of who or what they were hiding from. The kids would find out the hard way.
In the present day (or night), Yakko struggled with a nightmare, or rather, another flashback.
His seven-year-old self, along with little Wakko and toddler Dot, wandered out of the nursery, still looking for their mom. Dot dragged the remains of her doll doppelganger, and Wakko held his mallet aloft. The two smaller Warners used their free hands to hold Yakko's hands.
"Quiet," Dot said.
"I know," Yakko said. "It's too quiet."
Mom had to be around here somewhere, Yakko thought. She had told him that she was going to see if the bad people were gone, and she said she wouldn't be gone for long, But she was gone for long. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot tried to be good and wait for their mother, but they just didn't have the patience. Besides, they were scared (and in Wakko's case, hungry).
"It smells like barbecue," Wakko said.
Paintings and tapestries on the walls had been burnt, as Yakko noticed. Yakko hoped that was what Wakko smelled.
"Someone play with matches," Dot said innocently. "Bad. Matches not toys."
The next thing the Warners knew, a loud and unfamiliar voice yelled, "GOTCHA!" and the royal children found themselves struggling in a net, like fish. Yakko decided he would never eat fish again (not that fish had been his favorite food in the first place). Then, a sack was placed over the entangled kids, and everything was dark.
"What did we do to deserve this kind of time-out?" Yakko asked. Even now, he couldn't resist a joke, but no-one found it funny.
Wakko and Dot struggled and cried, and the Ticktockian soldier who had captured them roughly shook the sack.
"Stop crying, you little brats, or I'll really give you something to cry about!"
"We already have something to cry about," Yakko said peevishly. "We want our mommy."
"You won't see your mommy ever again," the soldier's nasty voice said. "She's gone. Just suck it up."
None of the Warners knew what "suck it up" meant, but it didn't sound very nice.
"Mommy gone?" Dot whimpered. She clung to Yakko and buried her face in his shoulder.
"Dadoo's gone," Wakko whispered, finally realizing-or admitting-this sad truth. He clung to Yakko's other side, tightly enough that Yakko's arm hurt, but Yakko wasn't about to complain.
"You're really mean," Yakko told their captor.
"And you complain too much," their captor said. "You're lucky the new king is in a good mood and just sending you to an orphanage, so count your blessings, kids."
"My siblings can't count yet," Yakko said.
"Just be quiet," the mean voice ordered. "If the king hears you whining, he might change his mind and make something very bad happen to you."
"Something bad is already happening to us," Yakko pointed out.
The Ticktockian tried another tactic.
"If you don't shut up right now, you little wise-guy, your brother and sister will get hurt in a way that can't be kissed better. And if you're quiet, you won't have to find out what that means."
Yakko was quiet all the way to the orphanage, and so were Wakko and Dot.
Then Yakko woke up, and for a moment, his throat felt tight. Everything seemed dark and confining, and for a moment, Yakko thought he and his sibs were back in that sack. To Yakko's relief, he realized that he'd just been tangled up in the blanket. Dot and Wakko continued to sleep soundly, or so Yakko thought. He got out of bed and left the room, and as soon as he was gone, Dot opened her eyes. She nudged Wakko until he partially woke up, then grabbed Wakko's hand and led her half-asleep second brother out the door.