When Silas Cobb heard the rumors that Sander Cohen sent someone to hunt down his disciples, Silas grinned. He'd always known this day would come. Cobb had done everything he could think of to aggravate and undermine his former mentor. The rumors reported that the whiny upstart Fitzpatrick and the dull copycat Finnegan were already bumped-off. No word on that weak-willed doormat Rodriguez; that guy was most likely cowering in Eve's Garden. Cobb would have preferred to be last on the hit list, if only for the satisfaction of snatching away Cohen's victory at the very last minute. However, it would matter very little in the end. Cobb was certain his triumph over Cohen was almost at hand. It would begin with his shop.

He'd turned his little shop into the perfect trap. First, the assassin would enter the shop and the doors would lock behind them. Next, the assassin would search the area, eventually heading downstairs. There, they would trigger the bomb hidden in the corpse that Cobb had propped up against the last remaining poster of Cohen's work. When the bomb went off, it would destroy the stairway, trapping the assassin further. Then, Cobb's loyal posse would make their attack. Such sweet little kitties; they were so eager to please and desperately loyal. They didn't doubt Cobb for a second when he gave each of them a can of oil and told them to cover themselves in it. But Cobb wasn't going to have them do all the work. He would stand on the second level, and assist by throwing Molotov cocktails and smoke bombs. After the assassin was good and dead, the fourth and final step would be mailing the assassin's remains to Cohen; to serve as a warning not to mess with the one true artist. It was foolproof!

"Howdy, Silly Corn-Cobb!"

Or it would be, except for the one fool Silas didn't expect to have to deal with ever again. Now he was distracted, searching for the familiar, irritating voice that had infiltrated his hideout in the top level of the record store. When he didn't find anyone, he concluded it was yet another auditory hallucination.

"Aww, Corn-Cobb! Don't tell me ya forgot about me!" whined the voice when Cobb began to ignore it. "After all we've been through! Remember that time I was hanging around the shop and you threw a paper-weight at my head? Good times!" the voice sarcastically cackled.

Cobb gritted what was left of his teeth. Of all the voices he had ever heard, why did that one need to be one of them? He couldn't even pretend it was anyone else because there was only one character impudent enough to call him Corn-Cobb! He only realized he said that part out loud when the voice replied, "I don't believe that for a second! It's not that clever."

Cobb was about to throw down his case of Molotovs in frustration, when one of his kittens informed Silas of the unfamiliar face marching toward the record store. Suddenly, his frustration turned into excitement, and he barely held back a giddy squeal. "It's time! Places, my kittens!"

"Mister Cobbsie, sir?" asked the runtiest splicer, "What do we do if he-"

"Now, don't worry your pretty lil' head 'bout that." Cobb smirked, "I'll be right here, lookin' over ya. Y'all just need to worry about making that guy dead."

Satisfied, the splicer took his place, ignoring the voice that insisted "no, do worry your tumor-riddled head 'bout that! But only if you want to be not-dead."

A camera hidden outside the shop showed the hitman arriving at the burned-out store. Silas Cobb watched with barely-constrained anticipation. He had to give Cohen credit; despite the homely sweater, this guy looked like he meant business. And here I was thinking Cohen never took me seriously. The assassin stepped into the store and Cobb called out to him.

"My collection is almost complete. Then we'll see who the REAL artist is down here."

"You mean you're still not done!?"

Cobb nearly collapsed when the voice appeared directly behind him. He turned around, still on the floor, to see the familiar laughing toon. "Okay! I get it, now! That was fun! I just wish I coulda seen your face." The toon used his claw to lift up Cobb's bird mask, only to grimace, and lower it again. "On second thought, nevermind."

Initially, all Cobb could do is gape at the gall of his own imagination. Bad enough he had to remember the little pest, but for his mind to revive the brat in all his impudent glory, dressed like a Texas cowboy! WHY WOULD HE EVER WANT TO IMAGINE THAT?!

Cobb then heard the blast, signifying the hitman had found the bomb. Happy for the distraction, he hurried out to reveal himself, yelling down from the upper level to the assassin. "You Cohen's messenger boy? I got something for that-" BOOM

Silas barely dodged the missile that had been launched at his location. He noticed the hitman's expression was one of pure, raw hatred. If Cobb didn't know better, he'd think this was personal. Well, fuck you too! Cobb seethed indignantly. He then called out. "Spend a little time with my kittens, sugar!" Cobb pressed the button which caused his kittens to combust into flame. They wailed in agony as they hurried down the ceiling to attack the hitman. Cobb smirked as the angry face turned to shock as the man prepared to fight human infernos.

"It's all a game, Errand Boy!" He cried out, watching his kittens charge at the man. "Cohen, Ryan! Two old birds pullin' on each other's-"

"GOODNIGHT, EVERYBODY!"

The loud interruption made everyone stop in their tracks, even the attacking splicers. The assassin reacted first. "YAKKO?! Get away from there, NOW!"

Yakko smiled smugly at Cobb. "Still think I'm a hallucination, toots?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Cobb eyed the toon, aghast. "You! Why? How?"

"I guess you never thought you'd ever see this handsome face again, especially after that little makeover you and your pals gave me. Oh yeah, Sandy wasn't a big fan of the new look. Buuuuut it turns out being covered in plaster is surprisingly rejuvenating. You should give it a try! It'd be a huge improvement."

Cobb growled. "You deserved it, you ugly little snitch! I knew you were spying for that old hack. How else could he have found out? We were sick and tired of you swaggering about like you're some sort of big-shot just because you made one good song! Y'all needed to be put back in your place! Just like Cohen will be, when I'm through with this errand boy! And no hack's pathetic, kiss-ass, unfunny lap-dog is gonna get in my way!" Cobb ended his rant by hurling a flaming bottle at the toon, only to be stunned when Yakko deftly caught it, and with a lick to his thumb, put out the flame.

"Byyyy Golly!" Yakko drawled, juggling the bottle with one paw. "I gotta hand it to ya, Silly Corn-Cobb, you really do belong in showbiz." He snickered at the former disciple. "With all the PROJECTING you did just now."

"FUCK YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!"

"Let's talk about those three points, shall we? First of all, did I report each and every time you went Ka-boom on me or anyone else back to the Coconut? Ab-so-lutely, I did." Yakko wrinkled his nose. "But they just made Cohen think you a sexy beast."

"WHAT?!" Cobb shrieked.

"Eh, I don't get it either, but what else is new?" Yakko shrugged, then Cobb threw another Molotov, which Yakko easily disarmed and began juggling. Suddenly, his tone darkened. "Second, you guys ain't slick. I couldn't have ratted you out to Cohen if I wanted to, and trust me," Yakko bared his teeth, "I wanted to. Fortunately, he was able to put two and two together."

"WHY YOU LITTLE-" Cobb threw a third bottle and then seethed as Yakko juggled the three bottles like it was nothing.

"AND FINALLY!" Yakko screamed right back, matching Cobb's volume, still juggling the bottles. "THERE IS ONLY ONE LAPDOG AND KISS-UP HERE AND WE ALLLLLLL KNOW IT WASN'T ME!" He stared daggers at the splicer. "I've done things for Cohen I ain't happy about but at least I can say I created something beautiful. And, I never once sat on his lap, unlike a certain somebody."

"SHUT YOUR GODDAMN-" Cobb, beyond rage at this point, chucked his entire crate at Yakko.

"Or kissed ANY part of his body!" Yakko interrupted proudly, still juggling all the bottles and the crate. "Which reminds me, ARE YOU AWARE, THAT YOU'RE A SCREAMER?"

Proving Yakko instantly correct with inarticulate yowl of fury, Silas Cobb threw himself at the toon. 'Bout time he tried a new strategy, thought Yakko, as he dropped all the bottles and hopped to the side. "Gee willikers, mister Corn-Cobb!" the toon remarked with a mocking southern twang as Cobb lay howling on the broken glass, "dat were sum gud aiming, yes siree, you landed rite where I were standing!"

Cobb convulsed, struggling to his feet, sounding more like an animal with each word. "When I get my hands on you, I'm gonna get sum thinner, pry open your mouth, and pour it down your-"

A crashing sound made them look back to see Jack pulling himself up out of a vent grate; from the bloodstains and burn marks on his formerly white sweater, it looked like he had just crawled out of Hell.

Cobb's mind went blank; he had completely forgotten about Cohen's assassin. "M-my kittens! You mu-murdered my kitt-" Before Cobb could finish, Jack shot an RPG into his face. It went about as expected.

"He was a nasty one." Cohen tutted from the radio.

"Uh-huh, yep, one of the worst." Yakko concurred.

The radio then let out a melancholic sigh. "And my favorite…"

Yakko's eye twitched, "Yeah, I knew that very well."

"But I think I like him better this way."

Yakko gazed at the splattered remains of the popped Corn-Cobb. I mean, personally, I would have preferred he were a little more… together. But to each their own, he thought to himself.

Then Cohen's voice became sharp, "Take his damn photo! Chop-chop, Yakko!"

After snapping the photo, Yakko heard Jack's footsteps walking towards him. "Good timing, Jack." He greeted the man. "But I gotta be honest. That went quicker than I had hoped."

He yelped when Jack seized him by the shoulders "What the hell did you think you were doing?" Jack's voice was hoarse with stress as he gave Yakko a firm shake.

Yakko blinked. "I think of lots of things, like what I'm gonna eat for dinner, whether I can write a country song to the tune of the Mexican Hat Dance, what came first, the chicken or the-…''

Jack dropped Yakko to the ground. "You aren't stupid, Yakko. Cut it out!" he then added "put those scissors back!"

Yakko pouted, "Well fine, Mr. Grumpy Sweater!" and dropped the scissors back into his slacks. "Whatever happened to your sense of humor?"

Jack said nothing and just gave the boy an unimpressed stare. It unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Stop looking at me like that! Yakko wanted to cry, but pulled himself together to grit out, "I was thinking, Cobb was about to die, so it was my last call to take any shots of my own." Yakko argued, crossing his arms. "Got a problem with that?"

"Of course I do!" Jack stressed, exasperated. "I was taking care of things. You had no business being here."

Yakko scoffed, "like you'd know anything about my business!"

"I bet I know more than you think." Jack replied, "Cobb was one of the splicers who attacked you and you wanted revenge."

For a second, Yakko was surprised, then he sneered, winking one eye and wagging a finger. "Nice deduction there, Sherlock", the toon said sardonically. "You seem to have it alllll figured out, yet here we are." He rubbed the tips of his gloves against his vest, only to realize his outfit was stained with Cobb's blood. "I know this may seem like it's out of character for me, but actually, this is a welcome return to form."

Jack looked gobsmacked at Yakko, who snickered. "Don't tell me you thought that meek, obedient, coward you met earlier was the real me? Nah, buddy," With one hand on his hip, the other gestured to the chaotic state of the room "this is me! A zany, out-of-control troublemaker, who always gets the last laugh!"

The man's face was blank for a moment. "I thought the real you was a funny, clever, and caring kid who was just trying to survive in a dark place." Jack crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me none of that's true?" He asked doubtfully.

This statement and question threw the toon off guard, and he responded slowly. "...no, sir."

"But, you say you pester people who… what? Annoy you?"

"Yeah, if they deserve it."

"And are those people typically deranged psychopaths?"

Yakko shrugged. "It's Hollywood; ya never know."

Jack bristled but reigned in his temper. "Did you ever know?" He asked, pointedly.

Yakko crossed his arms petulantly. "No." He begrudgingly admitted. Then he sprang up. "But we'd have been brave enough to!" He insisted fervently.

Jack rubbed his forehead. "Being brave doesn't excuse being reckless." He knelt down to Yakko, "What if something had happened to me and I couldn't get to Cobb in time? Or if I was even a little bit late? What if he managed to hurt you again?" Jack suddenly froze up and interrupted Yakko's half-formed retort, "Please tell me you weren't using your siblings as backup!"

All the rebuttals Yakko had lined up were run over by the man's assertion. "NO! I would never-" aaaaand he just made me admit I had no back up plan. Well played, Sweaterman, well played.

Then Jack asked another question. "Would you have killed Cobb, yourself?"

Yakko was struck dumb. He wanted to insist that of course he would have risen to the occasion, but the thought of actually having to commit the act scared him stiff. Yakko gazed down at broken and bloodied bottles, and slowly lifted his eyes to Jack. He wasn't hung up on what was ethical, but he didn't think he was mentally prepared to kill someone. "I wou- well- I didn't- have anything…" Yakko looked at his empty hands; he hadn't been physically ready, either.

Jack tilted his head. "Couldn't you just make-"

"NO!" exclaimed Yakko, leaping back several feet in horror. "No, nononono no! Th-that's only for funny!" Yakko cried out, waving his arms. "You don't ki-kill with funny! That's sick!"

Jack's eyes widened as he pacified the toon. "I'm sorry, I get it. I won't ask again."

"Do you really get it?" Yakko replied, incensed.

Jack scratched his neck, "I think I do. But we're not talking about that right now."

Yakko agreed and marched back up to Jack. "Alright, so I didn't have a back up plan! But haven't you heard the expression 'no guts, no glory'? Even if it was foolish, you can bet your bottom dollar it was worth it!"

Jack grumbled under his teeth, "Don't talk to me about betting the bottom dollar." Then he spoke up, "Was it really worth risking your life just to aggravate him?"

Yakko shook his head; Jack just wasn't getting it! "Tell me, Mr. Wynand, sir. Have you ever felt helpless? Ever felt the agony of knowing your loved ones were far away, lost, or suffering, and there was nothing you could do about it? And maybe you could have protected them if only you'd been a little stronger or braver or smarter?"

Yakko didn't give Jack a chance to answer as he turned away with a grunt, "I never had, not before they brought me here. Why would I have known anything like that? I'm a toon! I'm 98% indestructible. Don't believe me? Go ahead and test it! Whack me with the wrench, blow me up with the rocket launcher, fill me full of lead or whatever the hell it is you put in those pea-shooters, fire off any and all plasmids you've mutated yourself with and you'll see!" Yakko was screaming by the end of his rant.

Jack lifted his pistol, and for a second Yakko thought he'd actually try it, but Jack just turned to shoot a splicer that had been creeping up on them. Yakko pulled in his nerves to conclude his tirade. "And still… they still managed to turn me into a pathetic coward who sits by the master's feet like a good little pet." He spat out the last word with disgust in his voice. Heaving, Yakko turned back to Jack. "So, do you really think I was just gonna stand by and let you have all the fun?" His legs elongated so that his eyes were level with Jack's. "I HAD TO MAKE HIM PAY! I HAD TO SHOW HIM THAT HE LOST! I HAD TO SHOW HIM I WASN'T AFRAID ANYMORE!"

Yakko's voice had grown hoarse from his emotional tirade. "But what would you know about feeling powerless, Mr. Mutant-Murder-Machine?" Jack did not respond verbally, but the point was made nonetheless. Yakko waved it off. "So, any other assumptions you wanna make about my business?"

Jack closed his eyes, sighing. "I understand you're missing your family." He looked at Yakko with sad eyes. "And I understand you wanting to be strong for your brother and sister."

Yakko scowled, hands on his hips. "But?" he asked impatiently.

"Do you remember what I told you earlier? You don't owe Cohen anything." Jack gestured to Cobb's remains, speaking gently. "Not only Cohen, but any other person who hurt you in the past. You don't owe them your courage, or your strength, and you certainly don't owe them any opportunity to hurt you further."

For a moment, the toon could do little more than stare at Jack with a loss for words. He desperately wracked his brain to rally again. "W-well, why should I care what some ungrateful sweatered splicer thinks?" he gritted out.

"Excuse me?"

"Thanks to me, Cobb wasn't able to throw those whatchamacallit fire bottles, and smoke bombs at you." Yakko jabbed a finger at Jack's chest and pushed his forehead against Jack's. "And I kept him from running away. My 'foolish recklessness' made your job a lot easier, so you're WELCOME!"

Jack was unphased, standing quietly for a few seconds before asking, "Run away to where?"

"Huh?"

"You say you were keeping him from running away, but where could he have possibly gone?"

Yakko stopped. Cohen had full control of the bathyspheres and the train system was out of commission. Everyone in Fort Frolic was a prisoner to Sander Cohen's whims. Cobb could have escaped Rapture Records, but there was no place he could go that Jack couldn't follow. Yakko's face reddened as he realized this.

"FINE! Here, take it!" He threw the photograph and camera in Jack's face. "If you don't want my help, do it yourself, for all I care."

The teen stomped off and pulled himself into the vent, boiling mad. Muttering expletives through his teeth, he sank down to sulk. He hadn't been there for more than a few minutes when he heard the sound of sniffles; Wakko and Dot were slowly crawling towards him. At that moment, Yakko realized the sniffles were his own.

"I thought we agreed we'd only do crazy together," said an uncharacteristically cold voice.

Yakko buried his face in his knees as his sobs became louder.

"When you ran off without a word, we thought you were running ahead to warn Jack or something like that. I smelled something burning so we followed the scent here." Dot's voice added, "We were able to watch the fight from a safe place…. Yakko, why would you do that? Was it because I don't have my hammerspace back?"

"No!" Yakko sobbed out, "No Dot, it had nothing to do with that! I wasn't thinking at all! I'm… I'm so sorry, sibs!"

Wakko came closer to their brother. "I thought Fitzpatrick and Cohen were the ones who hurt you." He said softly.

Yakko shook his head. "Not Cohen. He saved me from..." he couldn't finish.

Dot moved to stand between them. "How about, instead of making us guess, you tell us exactly what happened?" she said firmly.

At Yakko's uncertain gaze, Wakko took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. Dot followed his example, squeezing Yakko's other hand. The siblings lent him their strength.

Yakko took a deep breath before he began to explain. "There were rumors about people selling pa-paint thinner around Fort Frolic. It got to the point where Cohen didn't let me go off on my own, anymore. I hated having to stick with him 24/7, but I didn't fight it. Then I heard about… about…" Yakko couldn't finish the sentence without weeping.

Wakko was the one to break the sobs. With a tender voice, he finished the sentence his brother could not. "Jazzy?"

Yakko nodded weakly, "She was my friend," he clarified for Dot's sake. "I had to go see her… I knew Cohen would never take me, even if I begged him. So I ran for Eve's while he was distracted. And I found her." He started to tear up as his siblings hugged him again.

"What happened next?" Dot continued, but she knew the next part wasn't going to be any better.

It took Yakko a few minutes to respond, but Wakko and Dot waited patiently. "Wh-when I left Eve's… they jumped me!"

"Who? The disciples?" Wakko gasped at Yakko's nod.

"They… they poured thinner on me… I can still hear them laughing."

"That's sick!" Dot muttered as she buried her face in Yakko's fur. "That's so sick!"

The younger Warners held Yakko tightly for several minutes. Wakko had to know. "But Cohen really saved you?" he asked, disbelieving.

Yakko shrugged. "It stopped, and they left, and then Cohen was there asking who did it. I couldn't talk, I couldn't see… and then he assured me it would never happen again and he carried me to Cohen's Collection."

"Whoa, what?" Wakko jumped up, "You're telling me that's the reason you were a statue? I thought he did it because he was bored or something."

Wakko's outburst lifted Yakko's spirits a bit, and he shrugged. "Well, I mostly saw it as a punishment for disobeying him. I told you guys before that nobody gets Cohen. I'm not saying you should give him the benefit of the doubt or anything, just that the guy's bleeping weird."

As he chuckled to himself, Dot nervously looked at Wakko, mouthing "We gotta get him out of here!" Wakko nodded, mouthing back "Glad we're both on page 9!"

Yakko became serious. "When Jack mentioned his name, everything burned, and all I could think of was making Cobb pay for what he did to me." He sighed. "But it was so stupid, it was so, so stupid and pointless and I'm sorry! I'm sorry."

Wakko and Dot gave their brother another hug. "We forgive you, Yakko. We know you say and do stupid stuff when you're mad."

Yakko smiled, then his ears drooped as he remembered his argument. "Oh, no. Jack!"

Wakko nodded, knowing what Yakko was thinking. "You have to tell him you're sorry." He continued, "You know it wasn't just us who were worried about you being up there with Cobb."

"It's true," said Dot.

"Ohhhh… I will." Yakko didn't think he ever felt more ashamed in his life. He had a nasty thought. "What if he doesn't want to see me?"

"Relaaaaax! He'll at least want to see me!" Dot preened confidently. "Especially since I got this!" With a flourish she produced a familiar leather item.

"Hey, when did you lift Jack's wallet?" asked Wakko, surprised.

"I didn't lift it," she dismissed snootily, "I found it. I did!" She insisted, at Wakko's dubious stare. "It fell out of his pocket as he was climbing up the store vent." She opened it and began to browse its contents.

"Wow, sis!" said Yakko, mock scolding, "don't you look like the picture of pure innocence."

Dot rolled her eyes and brushed him off. "Oh please, I'm only looking, there's no harm in that." She then smiled. "Aww, he has a picture with his mom and dad. How sweet!"

Wakko didn't want to look at the photo in case he saw a familiar face. Taking hold of Yakko's arm, he comforted the older toon. "You and Jack will make things right. After that, we'll talk with him about escaping the city. Everything's gonna be okay. So cheer up, and never give up hope."

Yakko's smile became less shaky. "I just… I just hope he wants to escape with us." He admitted.

"He will!" Dot spouted confidently. "If he wants to make his flight to London, anyway."

Dot suddenly noticed a shift in the atmosphere, like a huge revelation was about to take place. Her brothers' necks cracked 180 degrees as they stared at her confused. She quickly explained. "Jack has a ticket for a flight to London, see." Dot showed them the ticket she had found.

Yakko turned his body around to take a better look at the ticket. Wakko suddenly exclaimed, "You can't book flights down here! Residents aren't even allowed to leave the city!"

Dot's eyes widened. "Oh, right, I remember you saying that earlier." She looked perplexed. "I did think it was a bit odd… hang on, what's the date?"

Wakko cringed, "You remember how hard it was to tell time without the sun?"

"You don't know the date, do you?" Dot asked, crestfallen.

Wakko scratched his head, "I saw a whale earlier so it's at least summertime. And we know Rapture Day hasn't happened yet, right Yakko? Yakko?"

Instead of answering, Yakko placed the ticket on the ground so they all could see it.

Apollo Airways

Flight DF-0301

San Francisco to London

The eldest Warner was sitting there stunned. Finally, he responded, saying "I remember the whale too." Then he added, "Wakko, do you remember what else we saw recently?"

"Oh yeah, there were the broken pieces from the plane that had crashed right above the city, that was wild!" It took Wakko a few moments to make the connection and his eyes doubled in size and his jaw hit the floor with a clang.

At Dot's shocked expression, Yakko told her, "Not too long ago, maybe yesterday, a plane crashed into the ocean above the city. As if that weren't crazy enough, Ryan made an announcement saying that one of the survivors managed to get into the city." Yakko's breath quickened, as the implications became clear.

Dot pursed her lips. "I never showed you guys the photo in the wallet, did I?" Dot pulled out the wallet, "Now, I really think you should take a look."

The picture showed three people smiling warmly at the camera, Jack was in the center with his arms wrapped around an older man and woman. But the most eye-opening aspect about the photo was that it had been taken outdoors.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The trio didn't use scream jars this time, as they zoomed into the inner vents en route to the atrium. They didn't need to use their tails, instead following the screams of the Warner preceding him. When they finally reached their destination, Yakko went ahead to check the masterpiece. He returned a couple seconds later to the panting Wakko and Dot, saying "Jack hasn't been back yet."

"Wow, really?" marveled Dot between breaths, "I didn't think we'd actually beat him. He had a massive lead on us."

"Maybe we can catch him in the tunnel," suggested Wakko.

Agreeing, the Warners returned to the frozen tunnel entrance. Yakko instructed Dot to keep watch from the vents. She obeyed without protest; Dot wasn't interested in being in that particular hallway longer than necessary. As the Yakko and Wakko approached the entrance, they could hear the sounds of a fight coming from within the tunnel.

Wakko pulled out a large stethoscope, placing it on his ears and against the door. "They ambushed him in the tunnel," he informed Yakko. "He's winning, but he sounds tired."

Yakko's attention flicked back and forth between his brother and the door as Wakko did his best to narrate. "Only a few left now…. A statue just melted and he's really mad… he's pulling something off the wall… a gas canister? Or something like that."

At that moment they heard Jack's voice cry out, "DON'T, IT'S TOO CLOSE!"

BANG

And suddenly, everything went quiet. Wakko strained his ears to pick up any sort of movement, pulling out bigger and bigger hearing aids, his panic increasing with every failure to detect a sign of life.

No, thought Yakko, heart racing, it didn't just happen. It can't be. Jack couldn't be- instead of letting himself finish the dreaded thought, Yakko seized a first aid kit and made to dash into the tunnel when an odd electrical sound caught their attention.

The large cylindrical device, labeled Vita Chamber, was coming to life. The Warners knew these odd chambers were all over Rapture, but they had no clue what their purpose was. This was their first time seeing one working. Then, to their astonishment, Jack came stumbling out of the chamber.

"Jack! You're alive!" The brothers gleefully ran forward, hugging the man's legs. They let go when Jack started to teeter.

"Sorry, sorry." The boys released Jack so he could stabilize. "Didn't mean to startle you, we're just so happy to see you! We thought you-" Yakko's words cut off as he took in Jack's condition.

The man was in bad shape. His face was covered in bruises with one eye swollen shut. His other eye was blurry and unfocused. He had a severe limp and his ears were ringing. He could see the toons trying to tell him something, but he couldn't afford to stop and listen; If he paused for even a second he would collapse. Jack picked both children up to carry them back to the vent. Yakko was becoming frantic, Jack could just make out the words, "...I'm… orry… d'nt mean… me… photo… let… give… Cohen… mad… no frowny… masterpiece."

Despite his state, Jack was able to stop the toons from reaching into his pocket for the photo. He placed the kids into the vent, uttering "Wait here."

He had barely taken five steps when he heard the scampering of someone climbing back out. He sighed, turning around to see Yakko offering him a first aid kit. Jack began to reach for it, but stopped himself. He shook his head. "No time, can't stop." The injections sometimes made him drowsy. Ignoring the hurt look on Yakko's face, Jack limped into the atrium.

Yakko sank to his knees as Wakko and Dot hurried to his side. "What are we gonna do?" cried Dot. "We have to do something. He can't handle another fight in that condition!"

Wakko, meanwhile, stepped in front of Yakko, ready to shake him out of his sad funk so they could come up with a plan. But, to his delight, what he saw in Yakko's eyes wasn't hopelessness nor despair, but blazing determination.

The eldest Warner pulled himself to his feet. Jack had saved his family, and he had saved other little sisters, too. Now it was time to return the favor.

"Sibs," announced Yakko, sounding more like himself than he had in years. "It's time for us to run amok!"