Here's the new chapter three. Enjoy.

Yakko watched as his siblings ran circles around Ralph, whose face was turning red as his eyes spun around inside his skull. He could tell that the human was bewildered by the sensations swamping his physical body. Eyes were supposed to stay pointing forward, not circling around, but it was harmless fun and would do no damage. His siblings wouldn't hurt the guard. They weren't him.

In the three days since his impromptu visit to Dr. Scratchansniff, he had felt better than any other time in his long childhood. He was thrilled and jumped into the days' antics with a new passion, cracking jokes, dropping heavy things, and otherwise being zany. His siblings were enjoying themselves more than usual, and he knew they had noticed their brother's improved mental state.

This morning, however, he was distracted by his upcoming visit to the psychiatrist late that night. Wakko and Dot stopped running around and watched with glee as the man's eyes continued to go around and around.

"Uh, make it stop!" Ralph moaned then fell over from a wave of dizziness.

Yakko stood behind his brother and sister as they burst into laughter, tears gleaming in the corners of their eyes. They turned to appraise their older sibling, and Yakko immediately cracked a smile, making his eyes gleam in false amusement.

"All around the security guard, the Warners make him dizzy! Watch his eyes spin 'round and 'round, BOOM! He's in a tizzy!" Yakko sang, doing a graceful backflip and landing on his head.

Wakko and Dot squealed, and Yakko's smile softened a little. He felt eyes on him, and he glanced over to see Dr. Scratchansniff. His smile faded, and he tumbled forward into a sitting position. The doctor warily watched and the two younger Warners began to race off after another person. He walked over and knelt down.

"You okay?" he asked the eldest sibling as their laughter sounded out from farther away.

Yakko stood, shrugging one shoulder. "We still on for tonight?"

"Of course," the doctor said. "I vas thinking of getting some food. Vat kind sounds good?"

The boy turned to watch the man fly forward and slam into a lamp. "Whatever you want."

Wakko and Dot turned to face them, and Yakko winced. "Sorry about this, doc," he said in a low voice then spun him so fast he became a tornado.

Wakko and Dot turned back and ran off to another part of the movie lot. Yakko reached out one finger and placed it on the top of the psychiatrist's head. He stopped immediately, looking a little green. Yakko pulled a cup out of thin air and placed it in Dr. Scratchansniff's trembling hand.

"This will take care of the dizziness. I gotta go and make sure they're okay. See you tonight."

At bedtime that night, Yakko tucked Wakko into bed. After a large dinner, he was exhausted, and he lay back, his eyes heavy. Dot bounced on her bed, laughing.

"Time for bed, Dot," Yakko said, catching her and laying her down.

"I don't want to go to bed!" she whined. "Tell us a story!"

Yakko sat down on the bed, tucking her pink blanket under his chin and scratching behind her ears. He considered what to say.

"Okay," he said. "Once there was a little princess. She was the cutest little thing ever." Dot brightened, and Yakko heard Wakko's breathing deepening already; he flexed his power to help her relax. "The little princess loved to dance, and she was so beautiful as she twirled around. Whenever she danced, people stopped to watch, talking about how lovely the girl was, asking who would be worthy of her hand."

He paused, noting that her eyes were heavy. "There was one boy who loved to watch her most of all. He would climb the trees near the palace just to watch her dance through the garden. He longed to love her and wondered how he could become a suitor when he was a poor boy. He could think of nothing good enough to prove he was worthy.

"When the girl was of age to be married, her father sent out a decree that whoever could prove their love for the princess was true, then they would be wed. Many men tried to prove their love for her through strength and fighting, but she rejected them all. Finally, the boy, now a young man, came forward and bowed to her. He held out his hand, and she took it.

"They danced a simple waltz, and though the man was not perfect, the girl fell in love with him. He was the only one who touched her heart, the only one who dared to dance with her, however imperfectly, and when she smiled at him, he knew then that he was worthy. They were wed in the garden, the entire kingdom celebrating their great love. And they danced together under the moonlight, and they shared a kiss that sealed their love. And they lived happily ever after."

Yakko ended the story, and Dot was asleep. He smiled and kissed her forehead then turned off the light. Stretching, he walked over to sit in a plush armchair to await his appointment. He blinked and let his eyes glow and picked up a book to read, but he couldn't keep his mind on the story, so he gave up and just watched the clock. At 11:15, he stood up and tiptoed toward the door. Glancing once more at his sleeping siblings, he turned into a shadow and slipped down into the lot.

When he knocked on the door, he didn't know if the doctor would be angry at him for the tornado thing. But when the psychiatrist opened the door, he was smiling. Stepping back, he gestured for the toon to come in. Yakko slipped past him, sniffing the air. He smiled.

"Pizza?"

"You don't like pizza?" the doctor challenged.

"I love pizza," Yakko said. "I just wasn't sure what to expect."

"I thought that pizza vas a good choice," Dr. Scratchansniff said, shrugging. "Let's eat before ve talk."

Yakko followed the doctor into his kitchen to find a large pizza sitting on a pan in the center of the table. He sat down and selected a big slice, taking a big bite. Sitting back, he felt very satisfied. He hadn't eaten much dinner, but now that he was actually at his appointment, he was starving. The doctor picked up a piece, and they ate in silence for a few minutes. After a particularly saucy bite, Yakko licked his face, from his forehead to his chin, sweeping all the sauce into his mouth.

"Do you ever find doing things like that strange?" Dr. Scratchansniff asked.

Yakko sipped his water, arching an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"The thing vith your tongue. Licking your face."

Yakko settled back, tapping his chin. "When I'm with my sibs or other toons, I don't think about it. I can use a napkin if you want."

"It doesn't bother me," the human replied. "I vant you to be comfortable to be yourself."

Yakko smiled grimly. "I don't know what 'myself' is."

The doctor hummed. "That is something to discuss in our session, ja?"

"I guess." Yakko took another bite of his last slice. "Did you make this yourself?"

Dr. Scratchansniff brightened, nodding his head. "I found the recipe a vhile back, and I love it. Do you think that it is gut?"

Yakko smiled. "Yeah. I do. Personally, I love Chicago-style best. Dot likes the little personal ones, and Wakko doesn't care. He swallows every kind. Rarely chews."

"How does that work?"

The boy crunched on the crust. "It's a toon thing. It is funny, especially to little kids. And Wakko and Dot are little kids. So it falls under their zany abilities."

"Is that vat you call your powers?"

Yakko nodded. "It's the easiest way to refer to them. All toons have some kind of zany power. It's just on overdrive for us. Especially me."

"But your zany is different."

"Yes. Mine can get violent. And not in a funny way. Most toons are limited to funny. But the way I was written made me different. You won't find Bugs Bunny covered in a random human's blood. You won't find Mickey Mouse blowing up a block like a bomb. If they do, it's fixable, and they never hurt anybody. It's their zaniness that allows them to be exaggeratedly funny. Mine is just…" Yakko swallowed, gritting his teeth. He placed his face in his hands and let out a shaky sigh.

"You say written. And from the vay that you spoke of the animators last time, they did something to you. Vat exactly is written that makes you different?"

Yakko stared at his empty plate, his breathing heavy. There was a spark of red in his eyes, and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Stars popped around his head as he inhaled and exhaled. Dr. Scratchansniff placed his elbows on the table and settled his chin on the back of his hand.

"Name five things you can see," he said.

Yakko started and looked up, his eyes a swirl of red and black. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

"Name five things you can see."

The boy swallowed. "Um, a plate."

"That's one."

"You."

"Two."

"Um, an empty pizza pan." His eyes scanned the room, the black becoming more prominent. "The stars out the window. And a decorative chicken."

Dr. Scratchansniff nodded. "Four things that you can feel."

"The table," the toon replied. "A full belly. My chair. And the air conditioner."

"Three things you can hear."

"The air conditioner. The dripping sink. And the clock."

"Two things you can smell."

"Pizza and air freshener."

"And vone thing you can taste."

"Tomato sauce."

Yakko was relaxed into his chair, the final point of red receding into his inky black eyes. He shivered, but a smile curled his lips.

"Hey, that's really cool. Where did you learn that?"

"It is called 'grounding'," Dr. Scratchansniff replied. "It is noticing things that tell you that you are here, not in your head, not in your memories, but here and now. It's a common practice that psychiatrists use to help patients vith anxiety, panic attacks, and so much more. Do you feel better?"

Yakko took a deep breath and nodded, leaning his head back. "I do."

"Are you ready for the session?"

"Can we have some of that hot chocolate first? I never got to taste it last time."

"Certainly. Help me clean up, and I'll make some for you. Then ve'll go into the other room and talk."

"Sounds good doc," Yakko said, standing up and picking up the pizza pan and plates.

He headed for the sink as Dr. Scratchansniff walked for the stove, and they busied themselves with their tasks. But Yakko knew that he had never answered the question. And he was worried about what the psychiatrist would think of his past actions, past actions that he had never chosen to do. Would he understand? Or would he never want to speak to him again? Yakko's hands trembled and he forced himself to focus on the warm, soapy water, ignoring the pounding of his heart.