Everything is Too Weird

A/N: Hey guys. How have you all been? I just want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support in the form of reviews, favorites, follows, everything. I've been pretty busy these days but just know that no matter how busy I get, I'll never abandon this story when I know I have so many people eager to know what happens next.

Special thanks to my beta, Harmony Valenka Smith for the help!

Fair warning: This chapter explores Daffy's alcoholism and it gets pretty angsty. If this isn't your cup of tea, then I understand.

The inspiration for this chapter came from both songs Stay High by Tove Lo and Sober by Pink.

And this chapter contains a lot of Daffy being ridiculous, Porky being unhelpful and kooky doctors being kooky. :)

Please enjoy.

When Daffy emerged from the bathroom, he was immediately met with an anxious Bugs and a concerned looking older gentleman, who wore corduroy pants and a sawtooth-patterned flat cap on his head.

"He's been acting very weird all day Doc. What do you think is wrong?" Bugs asked, never taking his eyes off Daffy's half-confused half-pissed off expression.

The older gentleman, who Bugs addressed as doctor, was staring at Daffy contemplatively. He extended a hand and introduced himself. "Hi, Daffy, I'm Dr. Elmer Fudd, M.D. I'm your psychiatrist. Do you remember me?" He asked, revealing a slight speech impediment.

Daffy nodded in the negative. "Should I?"

Dr. Fudd's expression rivaled Bugs' concerned one. "It's worse than I thought." He admitted, looking at Bugs gravely.

Daffy felt like his patience was being stretched as thin as it could go. "Can you tell me what's going on or are you a part of this too?" He asked, folding his arms in annoyance.

"Well," Dr. Fudd faltered, "I think you really had too much to drink. You may have given yourself alcohol amnesia. It's very common among alcoholics, especially those as severe as you Mr. Knight."

Daffy was affronted. "First of all, I'm not an alcoholic. Second, I don't even like this guy. I don't know what you or him are doing in my house. And third, you both are leaving or I'm calling the police. Wait, what are you doing?"

Both Bugs and Dr. Fudd had begun to rummage through the doctor's Gladstone bag. Daffy watched as they pulled out a stethoscope and a portable blood pressure monitor.

"Do you think he may need to go the hospital, Doc?" Bugs questioned, his gaze flitted nervously between Daffy and Dr. Fudd's.

Dr. Fudd frowned, mulling it over. "We'll have to see." He gestured to Daffy. "Let me see your arm. I'm going to check your vitals and then I'm going to ask you some questions."

Daffy acquiesced; their anxiety was becoming contagious and though he would never admit that he was beginning to fall for their ploy, the possibility that he could have given himself alcohol induced amnesia was very likely.

He had always believed in go hard or go home and he even applied that philosophy to his drinking. Having alcohol related injuries or induced trauma wasn't new to him.

Dr. Fudd tutted and tsked, fussing himself over Daffy. "Well, your vitals are fine. Though you seem a little stressed out."

Daffy gave him his best poker face. "Yeah you have the day I've had and try to be calm about it!"

Bugs patted Daffy's back comfortingly, calming him down somewhat. "I'm here for you Daffy." He cooed, placing a kiss on the raven-haired man's forehead.

They sat together observing the doctor while he worked, and then Daffy heard Bugs say. "I never should have let you drink last night."

He was berating himself and it was…wrong. It was completely wrong. Daffy felt the urge to comfort him. He didn't understand what was happening and it made him more than a little scared but for some reason he wanted to make Bugs feel better in favor of his own feelings.

"Hey," he addressed, seeking to get Bugs' attention while trying not to disrupt Dr. Fudd from his work. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. We'll find out what's going on. Okay?" He gave the grey-haired man's hand a squeeze.

Bugs seemed to lighten up a little and kissed the hand that Daffy had intertwined with his. "It's just I don't know what I'd do if
I lost you."

Daffy blinked; Bugs was sincere and seemed like he meant every word. Daffy simply stared at him, unable to say anything. His normal response whenever people expressed their feelings to him was to say something snarky, but he couldn't find the urge to ruin the moment.

Bugs sighed, and his eyes flashed with honesty. "I've only had a year and a half to love you; I can't imagine losing you so soon."

But Dr. Fudd seemed to be finished with his poking and prodding and interjected. "Okay, you're outwardly physically fine; of course I will have to run some further tests but that is not my main concern. It's the possible brain damage I'm worried about."

At the mention of brain damage, Daffy groaned. "I'm fine. You said it yourself Doctor. Please just tell me how I can make everything back to normal."

Doctor Fudd nodded his head. "What was your last memory before you woke up?"

Daffy didn't have to think hard on that. He remembered Porky being around and them drinking and getting wasted, he told the doctor this while he listened raptly.

"So you do realize your memories conflict with your partner, Mr. Bronx here, correct?"

"Yes. But what I remember is what I remember." Daffy answered.

Dr. Fudd leaned up from the couch. They hadn't left Daffy's living room and were still trying to figure out what happened when Bugs decided to go to the kitchen to get the doctor a drink.

"This certainly is peculiar," He sighed. Then…"He really does love you, you know?" Dr. Fudd whispered, as Bugs was far enough away. He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled up, making him look ten years younger.

All Daffy did was nod in response.

"He brought you to me when your drinking was at its worst possible point. He had found you, on set one day. Apparently you were unconscious and in dire need of assistance. He got them to take you to a hospital and from there he never left your side. I think he was scared. He didn't realize you had a problem."

Daffy's jaw fell open; he hadn't known any of this.

The doctor continued. "You probably don't remember. But, he didn't want to lose you; he didn't want to lose his costar. The road you were heading down was pretty bad. Many people don't come back from that hell but he was determined not to make you a statistic.

You spent a few months in rehab where he wrote to you everyday. But you were so gone. You really had given up." The doctor's eyes flashed with sympathy and Daffy winced.

"You explained to me, that you were used to being disappointed by everyone in your life: your parents, your relatives, your friends and in turn, you let everyone else down. You never let anyone get close to you, you never let anyone in. Except for him. His letters brought you back, he never gave up on you and though you were hesitant at first; you downright hated him but he fought for you.

He never walked away. After you came out of rehab, you were hesitant to let him near you, afraid you'd ruin whatever it was that you two had. You had your doubts, but eventually you let him in. I'm a big fan of you Mr. Knight. I listen to your speeches and your interviews; you always say your biggest inspiration to get better was Mr. Bronx. I can't blame you.

If many of the couples I see had even a sliver of the love in their relationship as you two, then the world would be a happier place."

Bugs returned with a glass of water in his hand. The doctor took it gladly and Bugs took his seat by Daffy on the spacious couch.

"He knows about my past?" Daffy questioned, he smiled nervously at Bugs, unable to believe that Bugs who was essentially a stranger once, rescued him from addiction and fell in love with him in the process.

Bugs sighed and answered before the doctor could speak. "I know a lot about you. I know that your parents used to fight a lot in front of you when you were just a child; I know you repressed a lot of those memories. I know you don't speak to them anymore, that you ran to Hollywood to escape that life." He took Daffy's hands in his. "I don't care about any of that. It doesn't make me love you any less. If anything it makes me feel great that I can understand you better."

"But you had Lola and your own mansion." Daffy muttered feebly, still trying to make sense of things.

Bugs shrugged unapologetically when he said. "She left me. I was confused about my feelings for you and I was spending more time with you than I was with her. She left me because of that. She's gotten over it of course and now we can laugh at it. Lola says I was so in love with you and I was too blind to see it. She didn't want to come in the way of that. "

Daffy nodded. He could understand Lola's frustration but at the same time, it was noble of her to try not to get in the way of Bugs' happiness.

"I still have the mansion but I sleep here most nights because it makes you feel better." Bugs smiled, stretching an arm around him.

Daffy gasped; he couldn't help it. It sounded like something he would do, asking Bugs to stay over. Daffy had abandonment issues, something he never talked about with anyone, not even Porky.

Daffy felt like he was grasping at straws. It didn't make sense. He couldn't—refused to believe—that Bugs would leave the glamorous life he had to be the boyfriend of a recovering alcoholic who apparently broke his year and a half of sobriety in one night.

Maybe they were telling the truth but then how was it possible? People didn't usually wake up in a whole different world. What if he really was a drunk and gave himself such bad amnesia that he really did forget all those things? It couldn't be a trick because Doctor Fudd knew about his past too, and he never told anybody about it except Porky.

If he was just a drunk, then why did Bugs love him so much? But it couldn't be, it couldn't be. There had to be some other explanation as to why he ended up in this world without any recollection of what happened.

Daffy remembered something on t.v. he saw once, some science fiction show like the Twilight Zone that was explaining the concept of parallel universes. There was a possibility that they did exist. He tried to recall what else the show said about the topic but unfortunately, he was too hammered that day to remember anything.

Come to think of it, this was the longest time he had ever spent sober and so far, he was feeling a little dizzy. But if this was a parallel universe and the idea was, just crazy enough to be true, then he needed to find the other him so they could switch places and right everything again.

He just needed to black out again, Porky could help him. They'd find alcohol somewhere and they'd get hammered and when Daffy awoke, he'd be back in his universe. It was foolproof. But he needed Bugs' consent.

They talked some more before the doctor switched the topic back to Daffy's diagnosis. Dr. Fudd's conclusion, despite the evidence to the contrary (Daffy's consummation of very little alcohol the night before, the fact that he didn't go into a coma, no obvious signs of brain damage), was that Daffy had alcohol amnesia and the doctor was sticking by it.

After a couple hours, Bugs seemed more concerned about the doctor than Daffy and that gave the raven-haired man some relief. Before he left, Dr. Fudd insisted that Daffy go to a hospital to get further tests done but Daffy insisted just as earnestly that he was fine.

The dizziness hadn't disappeared but he waved it off as mild withdrawal symptoms and made himself feel better especially when he knew that he wasn't going to be sober for very long.

Daffy moseyed his way over to the couch where Bugs was watching him cautiously, apparently a little worried for him because of the doctor's diagnosis.

"I feel great, really." Daffy stretched his arms out demonstratively to show Bugs that he was still in one piece.

Bugs rose from the couch and Daffy could see that he was a man of impressive stature, towering over him by a couple of inches and making him feel markedly smaller. But when Bugs approached, it was merely to wrap his arms around Daffy's lanky frame.

"You make me worry." The grey-haired man admitted, sighing softly against Daffy's ear.

Daffy hugged back as best he could but he needed to get it over with and dragging it out as long as possible wasn't helping anyone. "Bugs, I know this may sound crazy but you're going to have to let me drink again."

The other man drew out of the hug so fast it almost gave Daffy whiplash. "Absolutely not!"

"But—"

"But nothing. Why do you want to drink anyway? Are you experiencing withdrawal symptoms?"

"No," he lied, "it's just I think you have the wrong Daffy."

Bugs stared at him cautiously. His gaze never left Daffy when he asked: "Daffy, what are you saying? I don't know any other D'artagnan Knights, do you?"

"I'm talking about the guy from the other universe. The other me. Like the Twilight Zone." Daffy stated.

"Oh yes," Bugs declared. "This whole day's been like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Daffy I think I'm going to have to call the doctor again."

"Are you kidding me? That guy's nice and all but he's more of a nutcase than I am!"

"Daffy, listen to yourself, you're talking like a crazy person. Do you need to take your anxiety meds? Do you need to lie down? I'm here for you." Bugs was retreating to the kitchen but Daffy reached out and grabbed his arm before he could leave.

"Bugs," Daffy couldn't meet the other man's questioning gaze. "I'm afraid, okay? Last thing I remember was that we hated each other and now we're lovers. I don't even remember going to rehab. Porky won't help me; I just don't need you to leave me too."

Bugs embraced him again and ran his fingers through Daffy's charcoal locks. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Everything's going to be fine." Then… "Can I ask you a question?" His voice lacked confidence but his hold tightened around Daffy.

"Yes?"

"Is it scary being sober?"

Daffy blinked, the question having taken him off guard. He had never really thought of it. He did hate being sober but he never questioned why. If he thought about it, Bugs did have reason to ask. Being sober was scary and uncomfortable. It was part of the reason he drank so much.

"Yes." He admitted, finally.

"Why?" Bugs pulled back to stare into his eyes. "You're so talented and great. Why do you feel like you have to drink? I want to know. Are you escaping the thought of your parents?"

Daffy felt irrelevant anger rise in his chest. "My past has nothing to do with you." He gritted out, pulling away from the hug and going over to the far end of the couch.

"They were bad people who neglected me emotionally." He muttered, feeling the hatred bubble to the surface. "I don't like to talk about them. Sometimes drinking numbs the pain. It helps."

Bugs voice resounded from behind him suddenly. "But it doesn't help for long."

Daffy sighed. He was tired, so, so tired. "Look, you don't know me alright." Daffy declared, pulling his t-shirt lower to warm himself. He was feeling really chilly, the memories of the times their harsh words left him cold and empty, resurfacing in his brain.

"Daffy who knows you more than I do?" Bugs asked; a warm hand came down to rub his shoulder.

He wasn't sure if he should say this, but he figured that they already came this far and Bugs already knew so much that the other Daffy had told him, what difference did it make if Daffy told him more? "I hate them. What they did to me. But it's a tie; I hate them as much as I hate myself." Daffy felt fully sick now, the tears rushed down his face and he wanted to throw up but Bugs was by his side in seconds, cooing him and rubbing his back and soon he didn't feel so bad anymore, not so alone.

"Come," Bugs ordered, "We're going to bed."

"I'm afraid to fall asleep." Daffy admitted; it was the truth. He dreaded slumber, the dark, the uncertainty of what the next day would bring, but maybe more so now since he was apparently universe-hopping in his sleep.

"Then we don't have to sleep. I'll hold you and we can just talk, okay?" Bugs brushed a stray tear from Daffy's cheek.

"Okay." Daffy acquiesced. It was a long shot; he didn't expect to get any sleep at all, even if he wanted to. That night, he let Bugs hold him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, telling him bed time stories or reciting poetry that they both particularly liked. He let Bugs sing to him but mostly they just talked. About everything and nothing.

They talked about their fears, Bugs' mostly revolving around the volatile nature of Daffy's drinking and Daffy's fears revolving around failing people he loved.

Eventually when they fell asleep and Daffy realized that Bugs was still there when he woke up, he didn't freak out and simply adjusted so Bugs could get some more of the sheets.

A/N: Okay so that was a doozy. Hope you all enjoyed. To anyone wondering, Dr. Fudd is a psychiatrist, rehab counselor, hypnotherapist, and also a relationship therapist. I just didn't give him all those credentials because I thought it was unecessary to mention them all in the chapter.

Thank you again for reading, more to come soon!