NOTE: Thanks for all the feedback, you guys are rockstars! Keep the constructive crit flowing. It's going to be pretty intense from here on out. But I love these characters, I wouldn't put them through hell for nothing. Just sayin'.
Chapter 13: Separated
When Yakko first woke up he thought he was in his old bedroom on the Warner Brother's lot. But as his haze of sleep cleared he did not hear the sound of stage hands preparing the set next door, nor did he see a poster of Jessica Rabbit on the wall across from his bed. Then he remembered that he was in Bugs Bunny's house, and he looked at the calendar. Today was Saturday, he was going to Pendleton, and it was four in the morning. With a sudden shock he realized that it was exactly a year to day when Scratchensniff had called to tell them about Slappy. If someone had told him a year ago where he'd be now, he probably would have laughed for a good five minutes.
Breakfast was a lackluster affair. The best way he could describe the demeanor between Bugs and himself now was civil in a cold, impersonal kind of way. He missed their joking and familiarity more than he wanted to admit, but he and Bugs seemed to excel at being stubborn and thus no truce had been reached.
Daffy's arrival seemed to liven things up slightly, if only because he was clearly not a morning person and began arguing with Bugs before he entered the kitchen. Something about the sun not being up yet and how it was against his civil liberties to be up so early, blah blah blah. Yakko wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy trying to swallow his toast, because for the first time he was nervous about their excursion but he was too proud to voice this to Bugs.
Buster and Babs offered little relief when they finally arrived, as Babs appeared to be fearful of making eye contact with him. Buster, on the other hand, had no problem glaring at him while slowly sipping his coffee.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Daffy asked suddenly, and Yakko turned to find Scratchensniff in the doorway, decked from head to toe in a hideously yellow raincoat. He even had a matching hat.
"I told you before, it is for protection from the DIP!" Scratchensniff huffed.
"And here I thought you were going undercover as a banana. Silly me," Yakko said.
"You will wish you stopped with the jokes," Scratchensniff pointed out, "I am telling you, it is highly dangerous and all preventive measures should be taken seriously – "
"Yeah yeah yeah," Daffy interjected, waving his hand, "if it rains I'll try not to come crying to you."
The last to arrive was Yosemite, who looked about as pleased as Daffy was to be there so early. Yakko quirked an eyebrow at him. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about leaving his siblings alone with him. It wasn't that he didn't trust Yosemite – the toon was apparently more effective than a SWAT team – but it wasn't in his nature to leave his siblings alone with anyone he didn't know very well. But as the population of Toontown declined it was becoming abundantly clear that his days of avoiding the situation were quite over. He had to go out and do something, anything, but there was no chance he was letting his siblings join.
If anything, he was worried for Yosemite. Yakko doubted that he'd ever had to deal with two normally active teenagers who were now practically exploding with nervous energy. Yosemite's matchstick of a temper wasn't going to last long with two toons who managed to try Yakko's own patience on a daily basis. But Yosemite's appearance prompted Bugs to give Yakko a knowing look, and Yakko left the table and his half eaten piece of toast and made his way to his sibling's rooms.
Dot was curled up beneath her blankets so only her ears were poking out. When Yakko peeled back the covers she was so dead asleep that she didn't even react.
"Hey, Dot," he whispered, stroking her ears, "I'm leaving soon, wanna wish me luck?"
"Mmmphhaaa," Dot moaned into her pillow.
"Was that English?"
Cracking one eye open enough to scowl at him, Dot mumbled, "Can I wish you good luck after the rooster crows?"
"Thanks for being so supportive," Yakko drawled, "listen, behave for Yosemite, got it? If you drive him crazy, remember he's got guns. Lots of guns."
"I can't believe you're leaving us with him. He smells bad and his beard has food in it."
"I'm sure he's just saving it for when he needs a snack. And relax, it's only for one day. I'll be back before midnight."
"Have fun getting to see the outside world," Dot grumbled.
Rolling his eyes, Yakko kissed her forehead. She gave him a return peck on the cheek before she disappeared beneath her blankets again. He slipped out of her room and into Wakko's, who was laying spread eagle on his back, his tongue lolling out as he snored.
"Hey stinky, care to say goodbye?" Yakko whispered as he ruffled his brother's hair.
Wakko blinked at him for a moment before sitting suddenly upright. "Who – wha…you're leaving? Now?"
"Whoa sib, where's the fire?"
"I…uh, sorry," Wakko said. "Well…goodbye, and good luck and all that stuff."
Yakko suppressed a sigh as he remembered with he never bothered to wake his siblings before dawn.
"You're very articulate in the morning, you know that?" Yakko said. When Wakko simply stared at him, he gave his brother a quick hug around the shoulders and added, "Don't give Yosemite a hard time, okay?"
"Um, yeah, got it," Wakko said quickly.
Quirking an eyebrow at him, Yakko wondered why Wakko wasn't giving him more grief for leaving him behind. Then again, things had been a little off since their fight. So he shrugged, chalking it up to his brother being nearly half asleep, and waved as he left the room.
Wakko waited until he heard Yakko descend the staircase before he sprung out of bed, landing catlike on the floor. Grabbing his jacket and his comic book, he stuffed them both in his hammerspace before slipping out of bedroom, careful not to make a sound. He hoped he hadn't acted too suspicious with Yakko – he'd always been terrible at lying – and it would stink to get caught so early in the plan.
He moved down the hall, trying to coordinate his body into moving quickly but quietly at the same time, which was surprisingly difficult with his annoying teenage limbs. He'd be more nervous if he wasn't already confident about his routine; being confined to the Bugs' mansion had given him plenty of time to practice a variety of different stunts. It was all about timing…if he could just reach the balcony –
"What are you doing?"
"Gah!" Wakko cried, tripping and stumbling in the most ungraceful manner possible. Staggering to his feet, he glared at Dot, who was tapping her foot and raising her eyebrow in such a way that she looked distinctly like Yakko.
"None of your beeswax," Wakko retorted, turning from her to run down the hall. He didn't have time for another argument with his sister, not when this was his chance.
"Hey, you better not be – " he heard her cry, but he was already around the corner before she could finish. The balcony was at the end of the hall, and it was a like a beacon, just starting to glow with the morning sun. He peeked outside, checking the distance from the balcony to the adjacent wall as though Bugs' house had moved overnight. Nodding to himself, Wakko clambered up on the railing before lunging toward the wall that was covered in fashionable vines. He stretched his body in midair until he was nearly two times as tall, giving him the extra boost he needed to clutch the tangle of leaves. He found footing quickly, unlike the first time he had tried this when he nearly fell.
But he didn't have time to reflect. Due to the weird architecture of Bugs' house he was now hanging directly over the garage where everyone's cars were. If he hurried, he could stow away in one of them before they left. There was no way they were keeping him behind, not now. He had decided days ago that he was going to Pendleton with them, and if that meant he had to do so under the radar, then fine. His desire to help was nearly overshadowed by his desire to get out of the house…besides, if Yakko refused to believe he was useful, he would just have to show him himself.
Easing himself down the vines, Wakko dropped to the ground and landed with a harmless squash. The garage was open, and he spotted Buster's blue sports car almost immediately. He recognized Scratchensniff's station wagon too, as he had spent a great deal of his childhood in it. His car was next to Bugs' shiny silver one, as well as a massive black one that he could only assume was Daffy's. There was also a large, black and red Harley Davidson motorcycle that he had never seen before.
Shrugging, Wakko tiptoed to Buster's car. Picking up a cue from Dot, he'd been listening in on the older toon's conversations via the vents for days, and they had decided to take Daffy's and Buster's cars because they were less well known. This made it easy for him – more than half the time Buster forgot to lock his car.
As quietly as he could, Wakko opened the car door and crawled into Buster's backseat. He'd have to squish himself beneath the passenger seat to stay out of sight. Could he hold that form for that long? Hopefully Babs would be behind the wheel, she drove like she was in the final lap of the Daytona.
"Buster, your car needs a little thing called gas, it helps it go places," he heard Babs snap. She sounded close. Stifling a yelp, Wakko dove under the seat and shoved and pushed his way in until he was hidden from sight. There were a lot more metal pieces and parts under the seat than he'd bargained for, and they all managed to find a particularly soft spot on his body to jab into. Hissing with pain, Wakko held his breath as Babs stuck her head into the car.
"Damn it Buster...your tank's almost empty! We'll be lucky if we make it out of the driveway!" she called.
From inside the house he heard Buster shout back, "Don't get your ears in a knot, the shrink said we can just take his car!"
As Babs slammed the door shut, Wakko wriggled out from underneath the seat. Great. Now he had to get in Scratchensniff's car. They weren't going to make this easy for him, were they? Ignoring the fact that his ear caught painfully on the seat, Wakko jumped out of Buster's car and scurried over to Scratchensniff's, only to find that it was locked. He yanked at the handle, going so far as to prop his feet against the faux wood side paneling and pulling, until he heard Scratchensniff's voice from the doorway.
"I will warm up the engine, she likes to take her time you know!" he called as he pulled his car keys from his hammerspace.
Barely covering a snort at the sight of Scratchensniff's violently yellow raincoat, Wakko dove underneath the station wagon. It shifted above him as Scratchensniff clambered into driver's seat. Scratchensniff mumbled to himself as he fiddled with the ignition, and the car whined in protest. When it finally roared to life Wakko's shout of surprise was masked by the snarl of the engine.
Wakko stuck out his tongue, trying to concentrate over the clamor of the car. He had to distract Scratchensniff, fast, before the whole crew pulled out the garage and found him laying on the ground like an idiot. Doing the only thing he could think of, Wakko tugged a small stick of dynamite from behind his back and placed it on the ground before scrambling out from beneath the car. Just like the one Dot had thrown at him, it exploded with a loud BANG in a cloud of black smoke. Scratchensniff let out a high pitched scream and ducked under the dashboard for a full minute before he finally dared to crawl out of the driver's seat. As he shakily bent to knees to look beneath his car, Wakko tiptoed around the hood and, holding his breath, slipped in to the open door. Not pausing to check if Scratchensniff saw him, Wakko hefted himself over the seats and threw himself into the trunk area. He landed on a lumpy pile of papers and books which he burrowed under, doing his best to cover himself. Then he held still, biting his lip and listening for Scratchensniff.
After a few moments he heard Scratchensniff's groan as he got to his feet. "When will this car run out of craziness?" he muttered to himself before clambering back into the driver's seat.
Wakko grinned madly. He had done it, he had snuck into Scratchensniff's own car right under his nose…and he was off to Pendleton. Moments later, Bugs led the group into the garage.
"Babs and Buster, go with the doc. Daff and Yakko, I'll be your chauffer for today," Bugs dictated.
"With you at the wheel we're going to wind up in Albuquerque," Daffy protested. "Let the duck with direction drive."
While Daffy and Bugs continued to argue, Wakko heard Buster and Babs climb into the car. He huddled deeper under the papers, feeling a burst of rebellious excitement as Scratchensniff backed out the garage.
Taking another bite of her pop-tart, Dot flipped open the days' Variety. She chewed, well aware that Yosemite Sam was busy pacing the kitchen faster and faster with each sip of coffee. She found that the best tactic seemed to be ignoring him. It was kind of hard to do though, considering that with each step his cowboots clunked and jingled against the tiled floor. Every now and then he'd grumble something to himself, and the words that Dot was able to actually understand were usually unrepeatable.
Finally, he came to a stop, facing her from across the kitchen table. Dot flipped another page.
"So," Yosemite rumbled, glaring at her.
Not looking up from her paper, Dot trilled, "Yes?"
"So I ain't familiar with keepin' an eye on a bunch a' pups, so I thought I'd set us some rules."
"Go for it," Dot drawled.
"You payin' attention girly?"
"Oh, of course."
"Don't like yer tone."
Dot peered over the top of her page. "And I don't like your hat."
"My hat!" Yosemite yelped. He clutched at the brim of his cowboy hat for a moment before he remembered himself. Clenching his fists at his sides, he growled, "So, them rules…don't make noise, don't run around, don't lollygag, don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't quarrel with each other, and don't leave the damn house. Understood?"
Dot took another bite and continued to read. Yosemite watched her in silence for a few moments before he barked, "Well?"
"You just said don't talk," Dot reminded him. She hid a grin behind her paper as Yosemite let out a frustrated growl.
"Talk when yer talked to then!"
"Okay."
"Okay to what I just said or okay to my rules?"
"You pick."
Yosemite growled again, and Dot swore she saw steam come out of his ears. He waved his fists and marched around in place until he slowed to a halt and took a deep breath. "Just tell me," he breathed, coming down from a deep rage, "where yer loony brother is so I can bring him up to speed."
Dot shrugged. "Don't know."
"Whaddaya mean ya don't know?"
"It's a big house," Dot pointed out.
Yosemite swore profusely, and Dot flipped another page. "Look!" she said, pointing, "Friends just got extended for another three seasons!"
After another glower Yosemite stormed out of the room.
Yakko watched as the desert hills rolled and undulated past his window. They were currently following the perimeter of the gigantic base camp, passing Temecula and heading for the south end. It was all new to him; he'd grown up in California but had never gone farther south than Anaheim. The landscape was pretty enough, he supposed, in a rugged sort of way. Plus looking at it helped distract him from Bugs and Daffy's bickering. Bugs had exhausted himself on spewing precautions and tactics and had now turned to aggravating the already high strung duck. Yakko rolled his eyes and wondered if he was getting a glimpse into what he and Buster would be like in fifty years. Then he remembered that Buster hadn't spoken to him in days and his stomach twisted unhappily.
Bugs, who was currently fending off Daffy's insults toward his personal grooming regimen, suddenly shouted for silence as his phone rang.
"Oh, that's rich, the long-winded rabbit telling us to be quiet," Daffy muttered.
"It's Speedy," Bugs said coolly as he held the phone to his ear. "What's up doc?"
Trying to listen as Bugs muttered into the phone, Yakko glanced at Daffy. He was alternately looking out the window or snapping his eyes back to Bugs at certain keywords like "drive further" and "stakeout." Daffy had not spoken a single word to him for the entire drive, and this suited Yakko just fine. Every conversation he'd ever had with Daffy had either ended in an argument or Daffy calling him a "child" and walking away.
"Got it. See ya around, Speedy," Bugs said, and hung up his phone. Keeping his eyes on the road, he continued, "According to Speedy there's a lot of activity on the south side, so our best bet would be wait about a mile out. He's with Wile E and Roadrunner, they can meet us in about an hour."
"So we're just going to sit in the middle of the desert and twiddle our thumbs?" Daffy snapped.
"You got it. Ain't you excited?" Bugs asked, grinning.
They angled southwest before pulling off the main road and into the desert, causing Daffy to wail about his car and demand that Bugs pay for any and all damages. Behind them, Scratchensniff's station wagon bounced along the terrain. The way it was looking, Yakko thought Scratchensniff would be lucky to have so much as the steering wheel in one piece when they were through.
They finally came to a stop on the far side of a scruffy hill. Yakko, desperate to stretch his legs, made to leave the car immediately but Bugs stopped him. Bugs' ears twitched suspiciously as he scanned the area, and they ended up waiting in the car for another twenty minutes before Bugs cautiously stepped out. At long last Bugs signaled that it was okay for the rest of them, and Yakko all but fell out of the car.
The air was dry and pleasantly warm for a December day. The breeze ruffled his ears as he paced around Daffy's car, taking in the landscape. They were too far away from Pendleton to see it, leaving him only the jagged terrain that was dotted with rocks and desert-hardened brush that stretched across the horizon.
Babs and Buster were leaning against the station wagon but not speaking to each other while Scratchensniff hovered close to Bugs, looking like he was regretting joining them more and more with each second. Yakko was strongly tempted to join Buster and Babs, to talk to them, to maybe set things right, but every time he tried there was something corking up the words from spilling out of his mouth. Talking to them was probably the only thing more difficult than apologizing to Bugs. He really had no good excuse not to have apologized already, forgoing the fact that he was terrified of admitting to himself how much Bugs' absence in his life was already costing him.
"Where's the rodent?" Daffy asked petulantly after nearly an hour of waiting around and slowly getting on each other's nerves.
Bugs took a sip from his water bottle and swished the liquid around in his mouth. "Question of the hour doc," he said after he swallowed, "he ain't answering his phone. That don't exactly fill me with confidence."
"Just the idea that 'Speedy Gonzales is late' can't mean anything good," Yakko pointed out.
Bugs grunted in response as he squinted into the distance.
"Think he got caught?" Buster called out, putting a voice to everyone's concern.
"Hard to say," Bugs murmured.
Daffy leaned on the hood of his car, the sun reflecting brightly on the bottom of his beak. "We're losing time waiting around for him. I don't want to get stuck here in the dark – "
" – Cause that's when all the ghosts come out," Buster teased.
Daffy rallied himself for a retort, but Bugs cut him off. "Save it you two. As much as it pains me to admit, the little black duck is right. We ain't doing jack just standing around here like a bunch of old maids. I'm thinking we split off in groups and survey the area, get a sense of the perimeter. I don't want anyone going too far out, and listen, first sign of trouble I want to see everyone's scrawny tails back here, understand?"
"You got it chief," Babs said with a salute.
"Actually you two'll be staying right here," Bugs pointed out.
"What?" Babs yelped, "You mean we came all the way down here just to sit in the car?"
"You can sit outside the car if you'd like," Bugs said snidely.
Babs growled something unintelligible as Bugs continued, "Daffy and Doctor S. will go right. Yakko and I will go left. Babs, Buster, you two stay here and man the fort. I got my phone, so keep in touch. Alrighty folks, let's divide and conquer."
Daffy was complaining to Scratchensniff before they were even out of earshot ("notice how the hotshot rabbit loves to give orders") while Bugs began to trot out to the open expanse of desert that happened to be on the left. Before he followed, Yakko gave Babs and Buster a small wave. Babs hesitated and eventually waved back, but Buster just quirked an eyebrow at him. Sighing, Yakko turned to trail Bugs.
Having grown up in crowded Los Angeles, Yakko was struck by the openness of the desert. It was overwhelming, and he felt exposed. But there was also something freeing about. He had room to move. The colors were striking – golden hills jutting against a brilliantly blue sky. This was enjoyable for the first twenty minutes or so, but after twenty minutes of nothing but dirt and rocks and scrub Yakko felt exactly like he had for the last few months: bored.
He kept pace beside Bugs, listening to the dirt and sand crunch beneath his feet. Neither of them had spoken yet, and he was finding himself pulled between not wishing to say anything to Bugs and the maddening urge to throw himself on top of the rabbit and beg for forgiveness. He got anxious when no one was talking. No matter how many people were with him, the quiet made him feel inconsolably lonely.
"Military base camp's not too far," Bugs commented suddenly.
Yakko nodded, not sure why Bugs felt the need to point that out. Maybe he needed something to fill the silence too.
"You given some thought to what you're gonna do?" Bugs asked.
Yakko squinted at him in the sunlight. "Come again?"
"You seemed pretty dead set on leaving my house after this. I was just wondering where you planned to relocate."
Resisting the urge to grit his teeth, Yakko muttered, "We'll find something."
"'We?' You're gonna shift your siblings around just because you want to hold a grudge?"
"Got a problem with that?"
"Fine, be stubborn then," Bugs snapped, shaking his head.
Yakko kicked a rock out of his path. "I guess living forever gives you plenty of time to practice the fine art of being a pain in the tail."
"You have no idea mac. Don't worry, you've still got years to work on it."
Yakko made a noise of disgust just as Bugs' phone rang in his pocket.
"It's Speedy," Bugs said, and brought the phone to his ear. "Speedy? Can ya hear me? Speedy?"
His ears giving an annoyed flick, Bugs growled, "See, this is why I live in a city…lousy desert reception…hold on…"
Bugs looked like he was dancing awkwardly with an invisible partner as he wandered around with his phone trying to find reception. It was more entertaining than it had any right to be, and Yakko watched him for a while before he finally gave up in frustration.
"Darn thing was working just fine a minute ago," he muttered, "I'm heading back to the cars, I didn't have a problem getting calls back there. C'mon."
"I'll meet up with you," Yakko said, "This is the first time I've been somewhere that isn't your house in months. It actually makes the desert kind of exciting."
"Guess again doc. You're coming with me."
Yakko gestured to wide expanse of terrain. "Who's gonna sneak up on me? Wonder Woman in her invisible jet? Not that I'd mind with that outfit she insists on wearing…"
Bugs didn't look thrilled with the idea, but he glanced at his phone before finally giving in. "Fine, but you got ten minutes, then it's back to the cars. If you see so much as a tumbleweed that looks suspicious, I want you hauling tail back to me, got it?"
"Yes sahib."
Bugs snorted, "Ain't you a riot?" before he turned back towards the camp. He eyed the horizon for a moment then burst into a toon sprint, leaving a trail of dust behind him. Yakko watched the dust swirl and fade away, wishing that for all his talk, he could just find the right words to say to Bugs for once.
Wakko snatched a piece of paper from the floor of the trunk and swiped it across his forehead, staining it with sweat. He was starting to think that maybe this wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. It was getting hot in the car and he was getting cramps in his legs from staying curled up for so long. If he wanted to be bored and stuck in the same place all day he would have just stayed at the house.
He wondered when would be a good time to reveal himself. Maybe soon, since it was just Buster and Babs watching the cars and they would be the least of his concerns. Buster would probably find his presence amusing. It might be a good way to break the ice, to have Bugs and Yakko return to find him there instead of just jumping out of the trunk and shouting, "Surprise!" Not that it mattered that much. Either way they were going to be mad. Really, really mad. In fact, the more he thought about the combined efforts of an angry Bugs and Yakko, the more he thought it might be better just to hide in the car all day.
He ducked down again when the car door opened and someone got inside. Seconds later the door opened again, this time to Buster's voice, "Babs, why the hell are you sitting in the car?"
"Because if I need to scream, I don't want the whole desert to hear me," she sighed.
Buster crawled into the car now too. "Damn it Babs, what's the problem now?" When she didn't answer, Buster continued, "Look, if you're upset about all this kidnapping shit, we'll get by it. When it's over we'll both get a show and everything will be fine – "
"You always say that like it's going to solve everything," Babs replied. She sounded exhausted.
Buster made a noise of frustration. "Only because they way you talk makes it sounds like you've got too many problems to count. I don't get why you're complaining all the time Babs, you're a cartoon star, you can do whatever you want."
"We were on a TV show six years ago. I think that borders on has-been territory, personally."
"I'm not a has-been," Buster said, and his voice sounded so dangerously firm that it gave Wakko a chill that ran down his back.
"You're a has-been to your audience Buster, admit it. But you're not a has-been to me, or your friends, or your family. Why is that never good enough for you?"
"Who said I didn't think that was good enough?"
"You did, whenever you make a joke about what I want to do with my life, or when you'd rather go out to some Hollywood slosh-fest then spend time with me. You always want attention Buster, and I've tried to give it to you, but I don't think I'm the one you want attention from anymore."
Hidden beneath the papers and books, Wakko cringed. He felt as though he were intruding on something sacred, but there was no way to escape without revealing that he was there. He tried to cover his ears, tried to respect them, but Buster's voice rose above it.
"It's not my fault you forgot how to have fun Babs. If you would just go out and live a little, you could forget it all, I'm telling you."
Babs was quiet for a moment, and in the silence Wakko was convinced they could hear him breathing, so he held his breath. When she finally spoke, it sounded far too bitter for her character. "Ignoring the problem doesn't make it go away, you know."
"Problem? What problem, tell me. The only problem I know is that something changed, Babs. I don't know what, but it changed – you changed – and I don't know what to do right anymore," Buster said, hovering somewhere between resentment and desperation.
"You're right, I did change. I'm not sixteen anymore Buster, no matter how much you want me to be," Babs said, and her voice cracked so softly that Wakko winced again. "You want us to be teenagers who never worried about anything, ever. Sometimes I feel like I'm hanging by a thread, and that's ugly to you. When things aren't perfect to you, they're not worth your time."
Wakko squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out Buster's heavy breathing and the fact that Babs had tears in her voice.
"We've been together so long," she said shakily, "so many people told us we were the perfect couple, that we were made for each other. And we just believed it. We don't even notice that we're two different people who want two very different things out of life."
"Is this about Yakko?" Buster demanded suddenly.
"No. It's not. This is definitely about you and me."
Now it was Buster's turn to pause. "What are you saying?"
Babs sighed, which somehow made everything more real. "We need a break from each other Buster. Maybe we can pick up after all this is over, but right now I think it would be best if we, if we stayed apart for a while." She swallowed. "I'm sorry. I need some air."
The car door opened abruptly, and the sounds of Babs' feet hitting the earth eventually faded. Wakko was suddenly very aware that it was just him and Buster in the car now. It was as though he could feel Buster's world falling apart, he could tell just by the way he was breathing, and it made Wakko sick to his stomach. Buster stayed there for several minutes, breathing in and out, before finally opening the door and jumping out. The slam of the door made Wakko jump. After a moment he exhaled, feeling dizzy. He didn't dare leave the car now, they would know he'd been listening and he wouldn't be caught dead letting them find that out. So he laid in the back of the car, swiping sweat out of his fur and watching a fly crawl across the rear windshield.
He must have fallen asleep, because a jarring noise startled him and for a moment he couldn't remember where he was or what was going on. By the time he remembered he was in Scratchensniff's car he heard Bugs' voice ringing through the car.
"What happened? Do they know we're here?" Bugs demanded. Wakko jolted, very wide awake now. There was something in Bugs' voice that he couldn't place, but whatever it was he didn't like it. What was going on?
"They know, they know!" gasped what was unmistakably Speedy Gonzales's voice. "I am sorry, so sorry, it was a false trail. It is a trap. All of this, it is a trap. Someone tipped them off, I have no idea who it could be, but they are coming now, you have only minutes – I try to come as fast as possible, they attacked, Wile E and Roadrunner gone, I lose my phone – "
"It's fine, Speedy, it's fine," Bugs breathed, "damn it, where are the others? Where's Yakko, we need to find him quick – "
"They are going for him!" Speedy cried, "They wait until you two separate, they want him too!"
The air flew from Wakko's lungs.
And suddenly he was up on his feet, sending books and papers flying, banging his head on the roof of the car. Bugs, who had his phone in hand, yelped in surprise and nearly fell out of the car while Speedy Gonzales yelled something in shocked Spanish. The little mouse was perched on the steering wheel, his customary hat missing, and Wakko noticed that he had ink splattered across his poncho.
"Wakko! What the hell – " Bugs spluttered.
"Where's Yakko? What's happening to him?" Wakko demanded. He didn't know if it was the fact that he'd stood up to fast or that he was going in to shock, but his head was spinning and he felt like the ink was draining from his veins.
"I'll deal with you in a second. Just sit and keep your head down for right now," Bugs wheezed, clutching his chest.
"But – "
"Get down," Bugs commanded. Wakko's shaking knees caved beneath him, and gripped the back of the seat as Bugs frantically punched numbers into his phone.
Sliding down a particularly large boulder, Yakko hopped to the ground and looked around. He had found himself in the valley between two small hills, which seemed to offer enough shade for more than the usual amount of scrub to grow. Rolling his shoulders, he plopped down on the ground. He hadn't heard from Bugs in a while, maybe it was time to turn back. Aside from a cactus that vaguely resembled Plotz he'd found nothing, no hints of kidnappers or otherwise.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. "That'll be Bugs telling me to report to base," he muttered to himself, swinging his phone up to his ear.
"Ahoy captain," he drawled.
"Where are you?" Bugs barked in the phone.
"Three boulders and one tumbleweed away from where you left me," Yakko replied, doodling in the dirt with his finger.
"No jokes this time. Listen to me - you have to get ready to run."
Yakko could tell by Bugs' voice that something was very wrong. He was suddenly standing on his feet with no memory of how he'd gotten there, his heart performing a series of erratic jumps.
"What do you mean?" Yakko breathed.
Bugs sounded confined. His heavy breath came in static bursts over the phone. "There's a whole gang coming after you, you've got maybe a minute before they find you – "
Somewhere in the background Yakko heard a strangled cry. It was a voice he would recognize absolutely anywhere, and his grip tightened like a vice around his phone.
"Is that Wakko?" he gasped, the words nearly getting stuck in his throat.
"Yes, he's here, but don't worry about – "
"Get him out, get him out of there right now – is Dot there too?" Yakko babbled. The words were bubbling out of his mouth, churned up from the trembling of his body. He looked over his shoulder. No one yet.
Bugs was trying to remain calm, which frightened Yakko more than anything. "Dot's fine. Wakko's safe with me. You've got to trust me on this, kiddo. Just worry about yourself right now. You're going to run as fast as you can, don't fight them, Yakko, okay? Just run. Just get yourself out of there. Hide."
Yakko no longer felt like he was a part of his body. A numbness was spreading over him, an eerie disconnect from the panicked flurry that was his brain: where do I hide, what's going on, please get Wakko out of there, as far away as possible, don't even look back…
"I – o-okay." He was pressing the phone against his ear so hard it was painful, as though he was keeping Bugs close enough to protect him.
"Don't panic kiddo - "
"What about you?"
"I'm coming after ya kid, just hang tight okay?" Bugs said, and his voice cracked in such a way that made Yakko's numb body feel like it had turned to lead, "Listen, kid – Yakko – whatever happens, I…I always felt…I'm coming after you, okay? Just promise me you'll stay safe, just run, don't let anything happen to you - "
The roar of a truck engine tore Yakko away from Bugs' pleas. "Shit!" he hissed, and he went to stuff his phone back in his pocket but he missed and it bounced on the ground. For a few wild moments he oscillated between running and picking up his phone before the engine roared again, louder and closer than before, and brought him to his senses. His heart now in his mouth, he bolted out from between the hills, breaking into the harsh light of midday.
He chanced a look over his shoulder. A massive, steel-coated truck was tearing across the desert horizon, driving directly toward him, rippling in the distant heat waves. Startled, Yakko stumbled and hit the ground, rolling over his shoulder and scrambling to his feet in one movement. He tried to kick into a toon sprint once, twice, it wasn't working, he was panicking, again – finally, he was sprinting. He tore off in the direction of their cars.
No. He couldn't do that. Wakko was there. He didn't know how or why, but his brother was there. He couldn't lead whatever was chasing him right into Wakko's lap. And Dot, she was at Bugs' house, so he couldn't go there either.
There was no decision to make. Yakko didn't know where he was going to run or where he was going to hide, but it wasn't going to be with his siblings. He would die before he put them in danger. He wouldn't even question it.
It was at that moment that Yakko realized he wasn't going home tonight. He wouldn't see his siblings like he had promised.
So Yakko darted to the right, toward the open spread of dirt and scrub. The truck slid across the sand to follow him, spraying rocks everywhere. It was getting close now, Yakko could feel the hum of the engine in his chest.
He heard a voice. He didn't know how he heard it over the bellowing engine, but it was a man shouting, and the next thing he knew an acrid smell seemed to fill the air around him. A jet of hissing, green liquid shot over his shoulder, barely missing him, and splattered against a rock where it bubbled and spit. Unable to help himself Yakko glanced over his shoulder again. He barely caught a glimpse of a dark toon hidden behind what looked to be an odd gun, but Yakko didn't bother to look twice. It was a gun, and whoever the hell was holding it was shooting at him. He began pulling things at random from his hammerspace and tossing them in the path of the truck…barrels…a bear trap…banana peels…he wasn't thinking anymore, he was just doing. Adrenaline mixed with panic raced through his veins, down his legs and into his toes, and without another moment's thought he was racing across the ground like Bugs had taught him.
A cloud of dust trailed behind him and he was flying, the wind was whistling in his ears, his shirt flapped and rippled across his chest. The truck sank back into the distance and Yakko put yards and yards between them. Air sucked in and out of his lungs, a steady beat to match the whir of his feet. He was running like he never had before. Yakko lost track of time; he could only measure how long he'd been running by the rhythm of his breathing and growing ache in his legs. His thoughts were to get away, and his body obeyed him because he had eclipsed what had to be miles at a dead sprint before his lungs started to burn.
Eventually his breathing changed into hoarse gasps now and his chest was tight. The muscles in his side were bound up in a stitch that throbbed with each huff. Now that the rush of adrenaline had ebbed Yakko had to put concentrated effort into each step. He could hear the engine in the distance growing louder, but he could not will his body any faster. Dizzy with panic, Yakko staggered to a pile of boulders. There was a small space beneath the junction of two rocks, and he prayed it was large enough for a toon. He dropped to the ground and clawed at the earth until he had forced himself under and out of sight. Yakko's entire body was shaking and his gasps echoed in his tiny den. The whole desert was going to hear him at this rate. He tried to smother them by slapping his hands over his mouth, but it was never enough air.
Now that he was laying down Yakko was overcome with a powerful urge to sleep, but he fought it because the truck was coming closer by the second. He pushed further back into the crack like a frightened animal, shivering and pleading silently. Just drive by, don't find me, please don't find me, just drive…
Yakko felt a sick swell of horror when the truck, only yards away, began to slow. He wedged his hand awkwardly between the rock and his hammerspace so he was ready to pull a weapon at a moment's notice. His fur was damp with sweat as he watched the den's entrance, so bright in contrast to the shadows he was hiding in.
When one of the thick tires rolled into view he held his breath. The sun glinted off the hubcap and flashed in his eyes, but he never shut them. Yakko watched, eyes wide, as the truck slowly drove past the boulders and out of view.
Yakko waited to exhale until he could not hold his breath any longer.
"Yakko! Yakko!" Bugs barked into the phone. He waited for a moment. "Damn it," he hissed, slamming it shut.
"What happened?" Wakko asked. It was getting very hard to breath.
"Wakko, I told you, get down!" Bugs snapped back. He turned to Speedy, his face hard. "We need to find the others and get them out of here, now."
"We can't go without Yakko!" Wakko cried, gripping the seat.
"I'll take care of Yakko, you just stay where you are so we can – damn it Wakko!"
Wakko ignored Bugs's shouts as he flung himself out of the car and into the dirt. He stumbled once before taking off, running blindly into the desert, off in the direction that Yakko had left. There was no way he was leaving Yakko. He was either leaving with Yakko or not at all.
Wakko had barely made it thirty feet from the car when something strong collided with his back, tackling him to the ground. For a split second he thought it was a weasel, but Bugs' voice grunted against his struggles, "Don't like taking orders from me, do ya?"
"Let me go!" Wakko growled. He kicked out and connected with Bugs's stomach. Bugs let out an "oof!" but did not loosen his grip around Wakko's arms. He was annoyingly strong; Wakko dug his heels into the ground when Bugs tried to pull him back, but Bugs was already half-dragging him back to the car.
"So I can lose track of you too? Don't think so mac."
Bugs' grip tightened when they heard shouting in the distance. Wakko's heart jumped, hoping it was Yakko, but it fell again when he saw Daffy and Scratchensniff barreling toward them.
"They're coming!" Daffy shouted, "dozens of 'em! They were shooting at us!"
"Where is everyone? Wakko?" Scratchensniff cried. His glasses were cracked, and his head was marbled with large beads of sweat.
"Babs and Buster are MIA and there's a group of goons after Yakko as we speak," Bugs said quickly, "I'm going after Yakko – "
"I'm going with," Daffy volunteered promptly. Wakko had never seen him look so serious.
Bugs shook his head. "We need someone to look for Babs and Buster. Wakko, did you see where they went?"
When Wakko shook his head, Daffy just growled and muttered, "I'll find 'em," before dashing off.
"What – what about me?" Scratchensniff wheezed. His chest was heaving beneath his raincoat as he swiped at the sweat on his face.
"Take your car and get Wakko out of here. Don't go to my place, if they chase you you'll lead 'em straight to Dot. Take him somewhere safe, try your place if you have to, just get him out of here."
"No, I won't go," Wakko protested. He tried to shrug out of Bugs' grip again.
"Oh, I think you will," Bugs countered.
Shaking his head and trying to hide the quiver in his voice, Wakko shouted, "No, I can't leave without Yakko. I won't."
Suddenly Bugs spun him around by both shoulders and sunk down until they were eye level. "I am going to do everything I can to bring your brother back to you, okay? Everything. But I promised him I would keep you safe, and I'm going to keep that promise. Now please, get in the car, the doc here will watch out for ya."
While he still did not want to leave, Wakko sensed that he didn't have a choice so he nodded. Bugs promptly ushered him to the car and slammed the door shut. "Hey doc!" he called when Scratchensniff hadn't moved.
Scratchensniff gave a startled little jump and spluttered, "Oh, yes, car," and stumbled into the driver's seat. Wakko rolled his eyes. Great. His life depended on someone who'd forgotten he was the driver. Real promising.
A loud roar dragged his attention to the open desert. A truck was driving toward them, large and black and menacing. Wakko gulped and clutched at the dashboard.
"Move it!" Bugs shouted, slamming Scratchensniff's door shut, "I'll hold 'em off, just get out of here!"
"Okay, okay!" Scratchensniff cried. He kept jabbing his keys at the ignition but his hands were shaking so badly he was missing. Wakko snatched them, shoved the keys in and the car surged to life. Bugs was already streaking toward the truck. Meanwhile, Scratchensniff slammed his foot on the gas and made the engine rev, but the station wagon sat in place.
"They've sabotaged the vehicle! It won't move!"
"'Cause it's in park!" Wakko cried. He grabbed the gearshift and thrust it into drive. The tires spun for a moment before they hurtled forward and Wakko was thrust back in his seat. He reeled around to see if Bugs was okay, but he and the truck were all shrouded by a massive cloud of black smoke. Wakko gulped. Bugs had to be alright, he had to, he was Bugs Bunny, he always won. But then he remembered Yakko pointing out that this was real, that it wasn't a cartoon, and his mouth felt suddenly dry. Yakko was right. He was stupid. He didn't think things through. He was selfish. And now that he had stupidly tagged along Bugs had wasted time taking care of him when he should have been going after Yakko.
Yakko…
"Don't be scared Wakko," Scratchensniff said, and he couldn't have sounded more scared himself. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel.
"Can we go after Yakko?" Wakko pleaded.
"No, I'm afraid not – "
"Please?" Wakko continued, then winced when it came out as a whimper, "Please, just turn the car around. C'mon Scratchy, Yakko's out there, you have to!"
Scratchensniff was frowning so heavily that between that and the sweat his face looked like melting wax. "You know I cannot do that, Wakko. Bugs is very smart, he will take care of your brother. For right now I am concentrating on getting you to safety. You should not even be here, as you know."
"Well now that I'm here maybe I could help – "
"No Wakko!" Scratchensniff shouted, surprising him, "Now please just sit tight, and we'll have a nice, smooth ride back to – yaaahh!"
Scratchensniff swerved wildly, plastering Wakko against the window and barely avoiding another black truck that had snuck out from behind a boulder. The truck slid across the dirt and began to follow them, closing the gap between the two cars at an alarming rate.
"Oh my goodness, oh my goodness," Scratchensniff began to chant, and he slammed the gas pedal to the floor. His old station wagon whined in protest but barely picked up speed.
Wakko tugged at his hat anxiously. "Hurry up!"
"This is as fast as she goes!" Scratchensniff wailed.
The truck revved behind them and hit their bumper like an aggressive animal. Wakko and Scratchensniff cried out as the jutted forward. Without thinking, Wakko began to roll down his window.
"Wakko, what are you doing? Stop that right now!" Scratchensniff shrieked.
Ignoring him, Wakko stuck his head out the window. He pulled a pie from behind his back, reached out the window and heaved it at the truck with all his might. It splattered across the windshield, and the driver quickly flicked on the windshield wipers, which only smeared the pie further. The truck began to weave, crashing against rocks and scrub. Wakko reached behind his back again and pulled out a rather large anvil. Anvils came out of the hammerspace featherlight, but gained weight exponentially the more time it spent in a toon's possession. Wakko's anvil was already growing heavy in his arms; grunting with effort, Wakko dropped it in the path of the truck. Before the wipers could clear the pie away, the truck crashed into the anvil, waffling its front hood like paper. It came to a complete stop, and smoke was now pouring from the engine.
Wakko stuck his tongue out at the truck before slipping back into his seat. Chest still heaving, Scratchensniff was flicking his eyes between the terrain and his rearview mirror. When the truck finally disappeared in the distance, he cried, "Wakko, that was very dangerous! You should not have done that!" He paused for a moment, then patted Wakko on the head. "But thank you," he said.
Ricki Lake? No. Price is Right? No. Waterworld? No way.
Dot flipped lazily through the channels. It was a shame, really, over 200 channels and they all reeked. Rolling on the floor so she was on her back, Dot gazed at Bugs' gigantic TV upside-down. It didn't make it anymore interesting.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and place it on the floor in front of her. She stared at it, as though it was going to recommend something fun for her to do. She hadn't spoken to Yvonne or Patti for a while; she wasn't exactly allowed to speak to anyone since they were in hiding, but what harm could it to? Then again, she had no idea what she'd say to them. That seemed like an entirely different lifetime. Same with Razzy…she could call him, he might say something stupid that would make her laugh, but then what? Maybe she should call Skippy, she hadn't talked to him for a few days and, and weird as it was to say, she really missed him.
Dot prodded her phone with her finger. As expected, it did nothing. She sighed. Hopefully Yakko would hurry up and get home – he had to have discovered Wakko by now. Yakko was probably going to throttle their brother, and Dot would love to sit back and watch the show.
Her ears perked up at the distant clank clank clank of Yosemite's boots. It sounded like he was running from the other side of the house. Smirking, Dot wondered if he'd even realized if Wakko was missing yet. She'd have to thank Wakko, really, for providing so much entertainment.
After several more clanks Yosemite burst into the living room, wheezing and puffing and dabbing at his face with his beard.
"There ya are! What are ya doin' hiding like that!" he bellowed at her.
Dot made a show of looking around the room, then at her place in the middle of the floor. "I don't know, how did you ever find me?" she drawled. Then she noticed that he had a pistol in each hand. "Anger management problems, much?"
"Why didn't ya tell me yer brother skedaddled with the rest a' them?" Yosemite roared, waving one of his guns around.
Dot curled her tailed around her finger playfully. "Because you never asked."
Yosemite's brow curled downward. "Just talked to the rabbit. There's been a breach. The shrink's hauling yer one brother back here, but yer older brother's done gone missing. Chased off by god knows who, don't know where he is. Rabbit's gone after him."
Surely she had heard him wrong. With the way Yosemite minced words, it wouldn't be all that shocking.
"Ha ha, very funny. Fine, I won't pull any more fast ones on you. What's actually going on?"
"You done heard me right missy. They were attacked. Someone gave away their position and there's no tellin' what's become of the older one, let alone if the shrink and the other kid are gonna make it back. So I'd appreciate it if you parked your rear end in one spot while I make sure the premises is secure."
He turned to leave, but Dot leapt to her feet and snatched his arm. "Wait! What do you mean? What happened? Where are Yakko and Wakko?"
"I told you! Don't know! Smugglers or worse, we don't know who's got 'em. Hell, I don't even know where the rabbit and the duck are at this point."
"What about Buster and Babs?"
"Missing."
No no no. This wasn't happening. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen.
"Well what are we standing around here for?" Dot demanded, "We have to go after them!"
"The hell we are!" Yosemite challenged, "I got strict orders from the rabbit to keep you here. I'm already catching hell for losing the other one. You ain't goin' nowhere."
With that Yosemite bolted out of the room, shouting nonsense about "checkpoints" and "defensive measures." Dot stared after him. She felt like she had just been mugged, and was now standing alone on the street feeling scared and violated. Willing herself not to hyperventilate, Dot snatched her phone from the ground and speed-dialed Yakko's phone number with numb fingers.
"Pick up, please pick up," she whimpered into the phone.
One ring…three rings…five rings…there was a pause and Yakko's Groucho Marx-inspired voicemail picked up. "Hello, I must be going. I cannot stay, I came to say, I must be going. I'm glad you rang, you heard I sang, leave a message and you I will be phoning…"
"Damn it Yakko, pick up the phone!" Dot cried, dialing again. Tears were welling up in her eyes.
No luck. She called again. She couldn't accept it, she wouldn't, Yakko was her big brother, invincible…when it went to voicemail for a third time, Dot found herself screaming. "Yakko, it's Dot, please answer your phone! This isn't funny! Pick up, do you hear me? Pick up!"
Dot hung up, breathing heavily as tears spilled down her cheeks. Wakko didn't answer his phone when she called him either, but he always kept his phone in his hammerspace even though he knew phones couldn't get reception there. She didn't know where he was. She didn't know where Yakko was. It suddenly seemed like there wasn't enough air in the room. The walls were closing in and if she didn't move she'd die, but she couldn't get her legs to work. Instead, she sank to her knees as a shattering sob racked her chest.
Yakko did not leave his spot underneath the rocks for over an hour. When he finally crawled out he was shaking from head to foot. He was thirsty but aside from hammerspace water, which was nothing more than an illusion, he had nothing to drink. He searched anyway though, as though desperation would make the past change. Nothing. All his water was back at the car. And aside from a couple of granola bars that were lurking around somewhere, he had nothing to eat either.
When he felt brave enough, Yakko began to creep back toward the cars in a shaken daze. He darted in short sprints between trees and boulders, always keeping a wary eye over his shoulder. More importantly, he kept an eye out for any sign of Bugs or the others. As for his brother, he prayed that Wakko had gotten away. He didn't know what he'd do if Wakko hadn't. His brain wouldn't allow him to contemplate it. Yakko reached to his pocket for his phone to try calling him, but it was empty. He'd dropped his phone when the chase had begun. It was lost.
There was a part of him that wanted to talk. It would be comforting, almost like someone was there with him. But he was so worn out that the very idea of talking seemed exhausting. Besides, his mouth was so dry he was worried his tongue might turn to paper if he said one word.
He was broken out of his stupor by the sound of an engine. Yakko immediately dove behind the nearly rock and peered out from behind it. Stomach sinking, he saw a vehicle moving towards him on the horizon. But as it got closer, he realized it wasn't the massive truck that had chased him before. It was a rusty, beat up van that bouncing over the rocks and hills.
Smugglers.
Unable to think straight, Yakko took off. He kicked into a toon spint and ran blind, his only instinct was to get as far away as possible. The van was nowhere near as fast as the truck and he was able to put a sizeable distance between them. But he'd reached a flat part of desert with no visible cover for miles, and by the time he was able to catch his breath the van was on his trail again. So he ran.
It was a cycle of run and don't run, breathe and don't breathe. But he was always chased. Always. This cycle stretched from the day and into the night. The sky was gigantic, and Yakko thought the field of sparkling stars was beautiful. So he focused on them because, in the dark corners of his mind, he thought they might be the last thing he'd ever see. In the cover of night Yakko was able to hide, to try and pretend to sleep, but he could never relax because soon enough the headlights would be shining in his face. And he would run. The will to live was the only thing that moved his body now; he was thirsty, hungry, and thoroughly depleted.
It was an endless night, as though day was beyond the horizon and no matter how much he ran Yakko never got closer. The sound of an engine was enough to send him into a panic, and he began to dread it in the moments of silence. Yakko willed himself to think of his siblings, as they were the only thing that seemed to bring him back to reality during the infinite darkness.
Yakko watched the first hints of day streaked across the desert, and an animal roared inside him. He had made through the night. He had survived.
And then Yakko's legs caved beneath him and he collapsed behind a large boulder. The dirt was cool on his face, and he shut his eyes and thought of nothing. In the distance the engine was getting louder, but when he tried to push himself to his feet he found that he could barely lift his arms. He was too exhausted to move. He couldn't even lift a hand to his hammerspace.
Terror overwhelmed him. It was already too late to run. He couldn't get up. Fear was pinning him down. This was it. His breath was coming in sharp gasps and he was dizzy. He was done for, he was going to be caught, no time to tell Bugs he was sorry. He wasn't going to see Wakko and Dot, if only he could tell them he loved them like nothing else in this world –
Control. He needed control. That's what Bugs had been trying to teach him, and it was all he had left. It was the only thing to stop his brain from spiraling away into nothingness.
Struggling to take steady breaths, Yakko managed to get to his knees. The van was barely twenty feet from the boulder now, he had only seconds…and then his mind became blessedly clear. An accepting calm came over him, and Yakko saw the steps he should take laid before him as vividly as a picture. Yosemite had said they were looking for Class A's, so Yakko peeled off his gloves and stuffed them in his hammerspace. Whatever he did, he couldn't use his powers in front of them.
He could hear them getting out of the car. Footsteps thumped around the boulder.
Then he shapeshifted his face to make his snout longer, his ears floppier and his nose less red so he looked for all the world like a dog toon. Something in his brain told him that if they couldn't recognize him, he had a chance.
And then something slammed into him with spine-shaking force. They were upon him. Weasels, frothing at the mouth, tackled him in a wave, and before Yakko even had a chance to cry out he was knocked flat on his back, the air punched clean out of his lungs. For a barely half a moment he caught a glimpse of the dawn sky where a few stars were still blinking at him. But then the weasels smothered him, punched and kicked and bit him. Yakko struggled, he tried to punch back but there was so little fight left in his body that he doubted they even felt the hits. It took everything he had to resist the urge to soften his body and lessen the blows. They would know then, they would know he was gifted. So he took hit after hit until he was laying on the ground, the corners of his vision darkening.
Yakko felt himself being dragged, then picked up, and the next thing he knew he was thrown into the back of the van. The weasels were grunting and hissing beside him, saying words he couldn't understand; one of them sunk its claws into his chest to hold him still, and he felt something thick and heavy being dragged over his head. Yakko let out a groan which garnered another punch in the face. It cracked against his temple, and his world went dark.
Yakko wasn't sure how long he'd been out. The only way he even knew he was awake, or alive for that matter, was the throb in his head. He didn't think it would pulse like that if he was dead. He wasn't that lucky.
Everything hurt.
His chest, his legs, his elbows, his toes…his entire body felt tender and battered, as if he had just been in a blender and then spit back out again. His lips were cracked, and his tongue was so dry it felt like a wad of paper wedged in his mouth. It even hurt to breath. His ribs…were they broken? He tried to lift his hand to touch them, but pain shot up his arm. He gasped and the air rattled in his raw throat. Maybe it was better to remain still for now.
His head. Oh god, his head. It was like someone had taken a mallet to it. Repeatedly. A new note of pain was struck with each throb, the bulk of it gathering where his ears met his skull. There was something trickling down the side of his forehead.
What was that smell?
As he slowly swam back into consciousness, he realized he was on his back, lying on uneven ground. Gingerly, he stroked the floor with glove-less fingers. It was rough, but also covered in something sticky and warm. Was that ink? Was he bleeding?
He almost managed a snort. For how much pain he was in, it would be nothing short of a miracle if he wasn't bleeding.
Where was he?
The pain in his head was making his brain feel slow and dull, trying to formulate a thought was like swimming in thick mud. His breath was coming in short and shallow. It felt hot against his mouth. The smell was getting worse.
What was going on?
He couldn't see. As he slowly dragged his brain through the thought process, he decided that it was because his eyes were shut. He opened them, and his eyelids crackled.
It was still dark. But his eyes were open. He knew his eyes were open.
Panic blossomed in his chest. His heart began to race, coursing the ink through his veins and causing the pain to dance to a different beat. Oh God, he was blind –
But his brain forced him to acknowledge the heat around his mouth, and the rough fabric that chafed against his swollen nose. Lifting his trembling hand and hissing as the pain exploded in bursts, he touched his face. It was covered with something thick and coarse, like burlap. It was okay. He wasn't blind.
He dropped his hand to his chest, exhaling shakily through the fabric. He held his breath for a few moments, trying to avoid the stench, but the brief lack of oxygen made him dizzy.
Where am I how did I get here what happened what is going on why is there a sack over my head –
His brain was suddenly going into overdrive. Lost in the darkness, his thoughts became a blurred mess of confusion; question after question presented itself in his mind, and each was maddeningly impossible to answer. Nausea swelled in his stomach. Make it stop, make it stop –
And then a thought occurred to him in such an abrupt manner that all the other questions quickly fell silent. He felt the color drain from his face, and his body began to shake even worse.
Wakko. Dot.
Staring into the blackness with wide, frightened eyes, Yakko Warner choked out one word:
"Sibs."