Chapter 7 - Stuck

April, 1987

"Wake up, big brother! Wake up, wake up!!"

"I'm up, I'm up," Yakko moaned as he opened his eyes to see his brother's face staring directly at him. He flinched, startled by Wakko's face being so close to his. Rubbing his tired eyes, he begrudgingly slumped up out of bed. He stretched his arms out, his body muzzy from sleep.

"Yakko up!" Wakko exclaimed, "Big brother is now awake!"

He sighed, annoyed to have been rudely awakened by his chipper little brother. Wakko seemed to be extra exhilarated this morning; the excited little boy was jumping up and down on his bed, thrilled by the sight of him being up and awake. While he liked his brother a whole lot, he did not appreciate being woken in the middle of his sleep. It was a Tuesday, almost halfway through the week. He didn't have to do anything today or go anywhere. His parents were home today, which gave him a much deserved break from the responsibility of looking after Dottie and Wakko; it would have been so nice if he had gotten to sleep in this morning. He had the slight urge to go back to sleep – he really wanted to – but he knew that it was time for him to wake up. He had a busy day ahead of him; he just might as well get it started now.

He begrudgingly got out of bed and lolled himself onto his feet. The child walked with his back slumped over, his eager, excited younger brother jumping around him joyously. Yakko reached his arm out, feeling around for the door knob. It was pitch black in the room, since there were no windows to let light shine through, with only a slither of light coming from the open crack under the door. Eventually, he felt where the knob was and turned it slowly. He opened his bedroom door, only to be blinded by the morning sunlight blaring through the living room window. He winced, holding a hand over his eyes as he stepped out into the living room space. They're small little apartment felt oddly quiet this morning. He noticed that the lamp that sat on the coffee table hadn't been turned on by his mother, which is something she usually does as soon as she wakes up. The entire apartment was awfully quiet, with only the buzzing of the aging refrigerator in the kitchen creating the slightest bit of noise.

Yakko figured that he ought to go back to bed if neither of his parents were even awake yet. But the little Tasmanian devil that he called a brother was telling him otherwise. Wakko had a tremendous amount of energy in the morning after sleeping all night; it seemed like the only thing he ever wanted to do was run around and be noisy. His parents–particularly his father, were not too keen on being woken up by him or Wakko, especially when it was so early in the morning like it is now. Keeping his brother quiet so that his parents could sleep undisturbed was a pain in Yakko's rear end. Oh, how hard it was to keep him quiet for just a couple hours! But as the older brother, he didn't really have a choice.

" Shh! You gotta be quiet," Yakko hushed his brother. "You're going to wake up Mom and Dad."

"But I wanna jump!" Wakko said profoundly.

" Shh! No jumping! And no shouting either," he said firmly.

Wakko frowned. "But I like those things."

"If you want to stay up with your big brother, then you have to be quiet. Mom and Dad don't like it when we are loud." Yakko told him firmly, crossing his fingers that his brother would understand.

It was a heads or tails sort of situation, whether or not Wakko was going to flip out because of what he said, or follow directions like he told him. Thankfully, the gods seemed to be with him that morning, because his brother seemed like he was going to listen. The toddler crossed his arms and muttered "Fine" in response. But now, the toddler was frustrated, so Yakko had to be careful not to set the child off by mistake.

At least he's going to be quiet…for now.

The brothers entered the kitchen, because they might as well eat breakfast now that they were awake. Yakko flipped on the light switch, the ceiling light hanging overhead flickered on, shining the room with its dim glow. Yakko pulled a chair out for his brother, then he hoisted Wakko into his seat at the table, much to the little boy's instant pleasure. His brother was sitting on top of two old phone books, since he was too small to see over the table otherwise; his parents didn't have enough money saved in the jar to get a second high chair specifically for Wakko, so this would have to do for now, at least until his brother grown big enough so that he didn't need to sit on top of books anymore.

Just as he was about to get a box of cereal for the two of them, Yakko noticed a piece of paper with writing on it resting uptop on the table. He grabbed the paper and held it up to his face. His eyes glanced back and forth as he read the cursive handwriting that belonged to his Mother.

Yakko

Something came up so I'm covering someone's shift this morning. Your father is also out of the house. He's with some of his relatives dealing with a family issue. He will be out of the house for a few days, but I'll be coming home later this afternoon to see you. Remember to feed your sister her morning bottle, and make sure that you keep a close eye on Wakko. You know how much of a handful he can be.

Sorry that I can't be here. I love you.

Mommy

Yakko groaned dramatically, then he crumpled his Mother's note and chucked it into the garbage can. His mom had to be pulling his leg, right? This was now the third day in one week where his mom had to cover someone else's shift early in the morning. And, once again, she left him some stupid note instead of telling him herself! His Dad wasn't even home, either, because of some "family issue" that seemed to be more important than he was. Why was he babysitting? Why didn't they hire a babysitter or call Aunt Amelia to take care of them and give him a break for once!? Because his dad is stingy about giving random strangers his money, and Amelia had to work during the day, too: that's the only reason that he was ever given, and a pretty lousy reason at that.

"Ah, man! Not again!" He cried out of anger and frustration.

"Why Yakko mad?" Wakko asked innocently, tilting his head in confusion.

Yakko sighed, exasperated. His brother was aloof to everything that was happening around him, because he was just too young to understand. Don't get him wrong, he loves his brother very much, but having to care for him as well as his baby sister every day was starting to become tiring, and more of a chore for him than a responsibility.

"Mom and Dad aren't home again," he told Wakko. He was trying his best not to take his frustration out on his brother. "Mommy will be home later this afternoon after she gets out of work. I guess I'll be taking care of you for now."

"Can I be loud now?"

"No, you still have to be quiet, since the neighbors are sleeping, and you know how they are," Yakko replied.

"They meanies!" Wakko said, squeezing his hands together tightly.

"Yup. They're meanies alright," said Yakko. From past experiences seeing his Dad yelling at the neighbors at the top of his lungs in the parking lot, the other tenants that occupied the apartment complex didn't seem like the nicest people. This is why Yakko tries to avoid talking to his neighbors as much as he can.

"Anyway, I'm going to check up on our sister sibling," he told his brother, liking the way that he phrased that sentence. "Don't move while I'm gone, ok? I'll be right back."

Receiving an understanding head nod and an endearing "Faboo!" from Wakko, Yakko left his brother unintended at the table and walked off to his parent's bedroom. As mad as he was that he would be playing babysitter for his younger siblings for the upteenth time , at least he no longer had to go through the trouble of keeping his brother quiet, at least not as much as he would if his parents were actually home. His little brother had turned two years old a couple weeks ago, and he was as crazy, hyper and fiery as ever. Wakko would constantly be pacing around their apartment, and it was a small apartment, too, so there wasn't a lot of space to run around in. It doesn't help that he's a reckless type, and is prone to knocking something over or two while doing his pacing. Of course, he means no harm, but Wakko can definitely be a handful at times.

He shook his head clear of those thoughts of anger for now, as he opened the door to his parent's bedroom. It was messy, per usual, with clothes scattered on the unmade bed and all over the floor, and the whole room dwelling in the scent of burnt cigarette butts. His sister's crib was on the opposite side of the room next to his mother's omwar. Yakko approached the crib quietly, peering over the bar of the crib to get a look at his sister. Dottie was snuggled under a stained, yellow blanket that could really use a wash, but the baby seemed to be comfortable. Her eyes suddenly opened; they gazed curiously at her older brother standing above.

"Good morning, little Dottie? How did you sleep?" Yakko asked his sister.

Dottie babbled in reply, as she was still too young to say actual words. But from experience with Wakko, Yakko knew that his sister would be speaking to him in no time. Besides, Yakko liked talking to his sister in the morning; it was sort of comforting, in a way. Dottie's innocent eyes were certainly enough to make the frustration of having to babysit her a little more digestible. He threw the baby over his shoulder, allowing her head to rest up against his neck. Dottie mumbled a little, drooling on his shirt, which was a bit gross, but Yakko didn't mind that much.

He left his parent's bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He walked with Dottie resting on his left hip, the girl still a tad bit sleepy. Stepping into the kitchen, Yakko was pleasantly surprised to see that his brother was still there, sitting down in the chair like he was supposed to. He patted his hands on the table repetitively, which was a gesture that Yakko had picked up on. It meant that his brother was probably becoming impatient and was growing bored, most likely, he wanted breakfast.

"Just give me a minute, Wak," Yakko told him in an understanding tone of voice. "I just have to give our sister sibling her morning bottle, and then we can eat."

"Can we eat pancakes?"

"No, I don't know how to make them," Yakko answered honestly.

"Why?"

"I just told you. I don't know how to make pancakes. Mom doesn't like it when I get near the stove."

"But I wanted pancakes!" Wakko whined, pounding a fist on the table, "I wanna eat!"

As I thought, the boy is crabby because he hasn't eaten anything, he thought.

Taking a breath, Yakko said: "How about I give Dottie her bottle and then we can figure something out, ok?"

"Ok," his brother grumbled as he crossed his arms and slouched in his chair. The toddler sulked as he whispered uninteligable words under his breath.

Focusing back on what he was doing, Yakko opened the fridge with his one open arm. The refrigerator buzzed stubbornly, a tiny lightbulb placed in the fridge flickered on. There wasn't a lot of food in the fridge: two cartons of milk, a carton of eggs, a package of unknown meat product and a few pieces of fruit were pretty much all that was in there. Yakko grabbed one of the cartons of milk and took it out of the fridge. Thankfully, the carton was not too heavy– it was probably half empty. Balancing the milk and his sister in both his arms, he maneuvered himself over to the sink and grabbed a small, pink baby bottle that was sitting idly in the dish drainer. Without much thought, he opened the cap and poured milk into the bottle until it was about half full, then, he forced the neck of the bottle into his sister's mouth for her to drink.

He stood still for a moment as he let his sister drink her morning formula. Dottie was dressed in a gray onesie that he was pretty sure used to belong to him when he was a baby. Yakko would have to change his sister's diaper in a little while, as well as get her dressed into actual clothes. Now that he thought about it, he would have to get his brother dressed, too, which was always a hassle. He had one responsibility after the other, after the other, after the other. There was an endless amount of responsibilities that he had, and so little time to complete them all.

Once his sister had finished drinking her morning bottle, Yakko tossed her baby bottle into the sink to be cleaned later. He then patted the baby's back lightly, trying to force a burp out of her. Dottie burped softly as Yakko gently ran his hand through her soft coat of black fur.

"Are you done yet!" His brother whined, starting to become impatient.

"Yes, Wakko, we can have our breakfast now," Yakko told him as he lifted Dottie into her high chair.

Wakko looked delighted by this, his tail wagging behind him. There was something about food that stimulated the child, but Yakko couldn't lay a finger on what. Maybe he just liked to eat food for the sake of it, or something on the lines of that.

Yakko and Wakko quickly ate breakfast – a bowl of Cheerios – and then got ready for the day. Yakko took off the pajamas that he was wearing and slipped on a light blue t-shirt, and an old pair of sweatpants that ripped a hole where his knee was. He dressed his brother in a yellow-striped shirt, with blue overalls. Afterwards, he sent Wakko to the living room to play so that he could get his sister dressed. He got his sister undressed, changed her diaper real fast, and then chose a pink little dress with flowers on it for her to wear. When he put the dress on her, Yakko couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight of his sister wearing that dress. Dottie had a little grin on her face, giggling a little. His aunt had bought the dress for her a couple weeks ago; it fit Dottie perfectly, and she looked so adorable in it, too.

"Look at you in your new dress, little cutie," Yakko cooed as he ran his fingers through his sister's hair. Dottie smiled a toothy grin, giggling some. "You are the cutest little thing, my little princess."

Dottie babbled some, she seemed to appreciate her older brother's words as he praised her and her cute little outfit. Yakko's smile grew wider as he hoisted his baby sister into his arms. Dottie laughed as she took her pudgy fingers and squeezed her brother's nose.

"Hey! Let go of that!" Yakko laughed as he nudged his sister's hand off of his nose. Dottie gave out a hearty chuckle, finding this to be extremely funny. What was it with his nose that his sister found such fascination with? She touches it all the time, for no apparent reason other than to annoy him.

Yakko carried Dottie into the living room. Wakko was sitting on the floor, playing with some of the Matchbox cars that used to belong to him. Because he has been so caught up in being a responsible older sibling for his brother and sister, Yakko has had less time to play with toys, if at all. It's mostly Wakko who plays with toys now – Dottie is still a bit too young to play with some of the toys they have. Those Matchbox cars are small enough to fit down a child's throat, and the last thing he wanted was for one of his siblings to choke on a piece of metal and plastic. It almost happened to him once, and it probably scarred him for life; Yakko doesn't want the same thing to happen to them.

He sat down on the couch, behind where his brother was sitting. He decided to set his sister down on the floor, for a chance for her to have some interaction with her second older brother. As much as Yakko loved cuddling his sister and talking to her, he wanted to give Dottie time to bond with Wakko, too.

"Here you go, Dottie. Go play with Wakko," said Yakko, as he lifted her down to ground level.

Yakko watched as the baby crawled towards her brother, who was engrossed in his play. Dottie approached Wakko on hands and knees, a look of curiosity in her eyes. Her head tilted slightly as she noticed the many tiny cars that were aligned on the dark green carpet they were sitting on. The baby found an immediate fascination with the many different Matchbox cars that were being touched with her brother's hand. She started making some babbling sounds, which got her brother's attention. Wakko looked over at his sister, who was gazing up at him with her big eyes.

"Hi, baby," Wakko said, gazing at his sister.

Dottie blinked, continuing to stare idly at her older brother, having no reaction to what he just said.

"I said Hi, baby," the toddler repeated.

Once again, Dottie said nothing in return. Wakko made a face, confused as to why his sister wasn't saying anything.

"Aren't you gonna say hi back?" He asked her.

Wakko looked at his sister for a moment, waiting to see if she would reply. Unfortunately, he received nothing but a befuddled stare from Dottie, only adding to his confusion.

"Why Dottie no talk?" Wakko turned to his older brother.

"Dottie can't talk yet, Wakko," Yakko told him, remembering his own experiences when his brother was her age. "She will eventually, but she's still a bit young."

"Why?" Asked Wakko

"Because she doesn't know how to talk, yet," Yakko answered.

"Why?" He asked again.

"Because she's just a baby," was Yakko's next reply.

"Why?"

Yakko quickly grew aggravated at all of the "why?" questions that were being thrown at him. He didn't know whether or not his brother was trying to mess with him, or if he was genuinely curious. Either way, he was getting tired of this schtick, and fast.

"I'm not playing this game with you anymore, Wakko. Why don't we let this go and you can go play with your sister. How does that sound?"

"But why can't she talk?"

"I just told you, she's too young," Yakko recalled, his voice unhinged.

"But…but why?" Wakko asked, tilting his head curiously, and that was Yakko's breaking point.

"I just gave you an answer!" He shouted at Wakko. "You asked a question, and I gave you an answer! Aren't you happy!?"

Wakko's eyes began to dwell with tears. The toddler was obviously upset by the harsh words of his annoyed older brother, and Yakko was aware of this. Almost instantaneously, he started to feel guilty for snapping at his younger brother over an innocent question that wasn't even a big deal in the first place.

"I'm sorry, sib," Yakko told his brother, empathetically. "I didn't mean to yell at you. Dottie will talk soon, I promise."

"But when will that happen?" Asked Wakko. But before Yakko had the chance to reply, his brother looked behind him to see his baby sister fiddling with one of his Matchbox cars. This little action that his sister made seemed to anger the toddler, as he sprung up off the floor and rushed towards his sister quickly.

"Dottie, NO!!" Wakko shouted.

Dottie looked up at her older brother with horrified eyes. Wakko aggressively ripped the toy car out of her hand, throwing it on the ground in rage. The baby stood still for a moment, standing on her knees. She then lost her balance and fell on her bottom. Wakko scowled down at his sister, his hands on hips.

"Don't touch that!" He yelled. Then, in an act of frustration, he shoved his sister onto the ground, watching as she fell on her back. Dottie, who was helpless towards her older brother, could only cry as a response to what had just happened.

Yakko had been watching all of this unfold from the couch, horrified by what he was seeing. He immediately sprung into action when he witnessed his brother bullying his younger sister over simply wanting to play with his toys. How his good intentions of allowing Dottie to play with Wakko could have turned into this was beyond his understanding. Without further thought, Yakko raced to the aid of his baby sister, who was helplessly lying on the ground, tears streaming down her face. He scooped Dottie up and held her up to his face, shushing the infant. His sister was whaling, screaming in his ear. He stroked her back gently, trying to sooth her. He made shushing sounds with his mouth, wiping her tears with his thumb. After a couple of minutes of soothing his sister, desperately trying to make her stop crying, Dottie started to quiet some, her whimpering softening to a minimum. And a couple of minutes after that, the baby closed her eyes and began to drift off to sleep.

Yakko never liked it when his sister cried. Sometimes, she would cry in the middle of the night, waking him up. His parents would occasionally be out of the house during the night, and in those instances, he would have to quietly get up and go to his parents bedroom to soothe her. He didn't know what would cause Dottie to wake up and cry in the middle of the night sometimes – he asked the same question to himself back when his brother was a baby – but whenever she did, Yakko was quick to get her to calm down and get her to sleep, so that he himself could get back to bed as soon as possible. Because of all of those instances of soothing his baby sister at the crack of dawn, he had become sort of a master when it came to comforting Dottie when she was feeling sad, even when that sadness was caused by the aggression of her two year old brother.

Speaking of his two year old brother, he was absolutely furious with Wakko. He had no idea what could have caused him to do such a thing to his sister, but to be honest, Yakko didn't care about that right now. What he did care about was the safety of his younger sister, and assuring that she was ok. Thankfully, Dottie didn't seem to be hurt by her brother shoving her onto the floor, but she did look to be very sad, which only made Yakko feel even angrier at what his brother had done.

Wakko stood next to him and said nothing. He was staring out into space, unaware of his current surroundings. Yakko, who was still cradling his sister in his arms, glared down at his brother, scowling at him. His younger brother was brought back into reality as he noticed his angry stare.

"Why is Yakko mad?" Wakko asked, aloof.

He could feel his blood boil inside; Wakko couldn't be that oblivious, right?

"Wakko, why did you do that to your sister?"

"Do what?"

"You know what I'm talking about, mister! You can't lie to me!" Yakko growled. "Now tell me why you did that."

His brother still appeared confused, befuddled by the questions being thrown at him.

"Answer me!"

"I don't know," Wakko answered.

Yakko cocked an eyebrow. "Really? You have no idea what you just did a few minutes ago?"

"What did I do!?" Wakko shouted, starting to look visibly upset. "Why is big brother mad at me!?"

Yakko looked down at Wakko beside him, eyeing his little brother like a hawk, managing the same angry scowl he's had for the past minute. He didn't know why his brother wasn't answering his questions, and why he was acting so oblivious. Just a quick glimpse of Wakko's face and he could tell that the toddler was both really upset and really confused as to what was happening.

It was then when it hit Yakko as hard as if he were bonked on the head with a mallet: his brother didn't realize that what he had done was wrong. The only reason that Wakko had shoved his sister in the first place was because he felt jealous that she was playing with one of his toys. He was angry in the moment, so naturally, he needed to release that anger. It may have been the wrong thing to do, but it was a reaction to an emotion that he felt in that moment. Wakko is only two years old, and has been for a good month now; he was still too young to properly manage his emotions in a healthy way, if at all.

Maybe I should break it down for him, instead of just yelling at him, Yakko thought to himself.

Yakko bent down to his brother's height level, low enough that he still had a good grip of his sleeping sister, but where his brother could look at him without having to tilt his head up to see his face. He was considerably taller than Wakko was – about five to six inches taller – so he always had to tilt his head down to look at his brother. Wanting to emphasize with his younger sibling, he decided to do something that his mom, dad, and aunt would do in a situation like this: bend down to get to his eye level. Wakko pouted and made a " Hmf" noise as he turned away from him. Yakko placed his hand on his brother's shoulder, forcibly turning his body to face him. The sulky toddler shot a frown at him, with angry tears forming in his eyes.

"Wakko, please, don't get upset. I know you didn't mean to, but shoving your sister to the ground like that was wrong," Yakko explained to him.

"But she had my toy!" His brother whined.

"I know she did, but Dottie wasn't doing any harm. She didn't break your toys, did she?" He reasoned.

Wakko thought for a moment. It seemed to Yakko that his brother was starting to get it, which was good.

"No. Dottie didn't break car. But why did she take it?"

"Maybe, it's because Dottie wanted to play with Hot Wheels, too. Pushing her out of the way wasn't very nice, was it?"

Yakko raised his eyebrow at his brother. Wakko lowered his head, his face growing somber.

"I guess not," the toddler said sadly.

"You didn't mean to make your sister cry, but what you did to her was wrong," he reiterated, "next time, you should ask Dottie if you could have the toy, instead of ripping it out of her hand."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How do I ask?"

"By saying please and thank you," replied Yakko with a grin. "If you want Dottie to give you the toy, you say 'Dottie, may I please have the toy from you?' And when Dottie gives you the toy, you should say, 'Thank you, Dottie.'"

Wakko's face was buried in thought. His face remained neutral for the moment being, as the boy had a moment to consider the advice of his smart older brother. Moments later, his eyebrows lowered and his ears drooped down. The child's neutral expression turned to that of sadness and guilt. It was clear in the moment that Wakko had finally realized his wrongdoings, and was starting to regret what he had done eight minutes earlier.

"Dottie looks sad," Wakko states, "I hurt her. And that is bad."

Yakko smiled, in spite of his brother's guilt, as he watched as his little sibling realized the flaws of his own actions. He himself felt bad for Wakko, but it was sort of cute, in its own right, seeing the boy care about his baby sister. It was unusual to see his brother care this deeply about their sister, so Yakko figured he would savor this moment while he can.

"You want to tell your sister that you're sorry? It'll make you feel better."

"Yes, please."

Upon request, Yakko lowered his sister down to Wakko's level. His brother peered over his shoulder, gazing at Dottie sleeping in his arms soundfully.

"Sorry, Dottie," he apologized, "I hope you're ok."

Yakko smiled at his brother, ruffling the top of his head in praise.

"That was very nice of you, sib," he told him.

"Dottie sleeping." Wakko observed, pointing his finger.

"Yeah, she is. It's a bit early for her nap, but I don't wanna wake her. Guess I'll put her in her crib."

"No! I wanna play!" Wakko whined. "I don't want Dottie to be sad no more!"

"Dottie isn't sad or mad; she's just sleeping," he informed his distraught little brother. "I'm going to put Dottie in her crib so she can sleep. Then, when I come back, I can play with you for a while, ok?"

His brother, while still sad to have upset his baby sister, was still in the mood to play. Wakko nodded his head slowly, in reply.

"Ok," he said.

Now that he had gotten his little brother to settle down, and to realize his mistakes, Yakko carried his sleeping sister to her crib to put her down for a nap. As he was about to enter his mom and dad's room, he looked back at Wakko, who had resumed playing with toys. He shot a smile at his brother, as a way of saying "no worries bud, I'll be right back". The toddler looked up at him and shared a grin of his own, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth like it always was. After a moment, Wakko focused his attention back on his Hot Wheels, and pushed them around the floor, making engine noises with his mouth.

Looking at his brother one last time, he turned his head away and continued to carry Dottie to her crib. He slid the railing down and gently set his sister down. He took the yellow, star blanket and tucked his sister into bed. Yakko leaned down toward his sister, watching his sister sleep. Her head rolled over to the left, she made a quiet babble noise with her mouth. She had her arms resting over her head, which looked amusing to Yakko; it almost appeared as if Dottie was holding something over her head. It made him wonder what the infant was dreaming about. But one thing was clear: the sight of his infant sister sleeping was such a precious moment to endevor.

It made Yakko realize just how often he had to put his little sister to bed. More often than not, it was him who got Dottie to sleep, not his mother. Why was that? Was it because his mom always came home late and didn't have the time to cradle her youngest? Or did his sister just prefer falling asleep in his arms, rather than his mother's? The same went for Wakko; his brother always slept right by his side, every night, snuggled up against his body. The toddler seemed to have a sort of connection with Yakko that is lost between him and his mother. Just today, Yakko had to console his brother in manners, and, on his own, was able to make Wakko realize that his actions have consequences. Would his mom have been able to have the same conversation with his little sibling? Would Wakko have even listened, or cared?

It was these kinds of moments that made Yakko think a little harder about his surroundings…

Once again, Yakko shook his head clear of those thoughts. He really needed to stop letting those thoughts get the better of him. Instead, he leaned down toward his sister, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Sweet dreams, sister sibling," Yakko spoke softly.

"Yakko!" His brother yelled impatiently, "are you coming back!?"

For now, he would spend his day playing with his younger brother, keeping him occupied to the best of his ability, and trying to prevent him from causing any more trouble. It would be lunch time soon, so he would probably have to cook for his brother, too. And not to mention that he would have to change Wakko's diaper afterwards, and give him a bath. And two hours later, Wakko would be hungry again, and would be asking him for a snack.

Yakko sighed. It really was hard to be the oldest, especially since he was stuck in the limbo of being the parental figure for his baby siblings, and there was no end in sight.

It was now around four o'clock in the afternoon. Yakko had spent the majority of his day playing with his brother and cradling his sister. He had tried to keep the two siblings apart after what had happened earlier. While Wakko did seem to learn his lesson, Yakko wasn't going to take any chances. To his sweet, sweet relief, Wakko and Dottie got along fine after that. Now, the two of them were in their respective bedrooms, taking their afternoon nap. This was the first nap of the day for Wakko. He had been acting cranky before then, sulking and being moody. While the toddler tried to avoid his nap at first, he did end up giving in and settled down. It must have been Yakko's lucky day, as his brother didn't decide to throw a tantrum over having to take a nap like he usually did.

Yakko was too old for naps. In fact, the child couldn't even remember the last time he had taken a nap, or needed to take a nap. He was so used to being up at night cradling his crying baby sister that Yakko had grown accustomed to a lack of sleep. But, he still went to bed early every night – about seven to eight o'clock in the evening – upon his mother's request. Yakko didn't believe he needed a bedtime anymore, if he was going to be constantly woken up by Dottie crying anyway. But, to give his mom credit, he was beginning to feel a little sleepy, but only a little bit.

So, instead of getting a head start on sleep like he probably should be doing, Yakko was sitting at the big, empty table in the dimly lit kitchen, all alone. Without his rambunctious little brother around to disrupt his peace, the stressed boy could finally enjoy some much needed peace and quiet. He had forgotten just how quiet the apartment was without Wakko around, but Yakko didn't see it as a bad thing at all; he needed this time of clarity to calm down before going to bed. He didn't know what chaos would await him tomorrow, or the next day, so he might as well mentally prepare himself before the fact, right?

He decided to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner that night. He took small bites out of the sandwich, while swigging water every now and then. Yakko was going to have one earlier for lunch, and he did make one for himself. But clumsy little Wakko just so happened to spill his glass of orange juice all over his sandwich. He had to spend five minutes cleaning up his brother's spill, and wash off the ginormous stain that had formed on the table cloth. He didn't bother making another PBJ for himself; he was too frazzled at that moment to eat. So, Yakko went without eating lunch today. After he put Wakko and Dottie to bed, his empty stomach started cramping up badly. He didn't want to eat, but his body was forcing him to, so Yakko gave in.

PBJ's were the only thing that Yakko knew how to make. They didn't have a lot of food stored in their cabinets, and it only seemed like the cabinets were getting empiter every time he looked in them. But his mom or dad would usually buy jars of peanut butter and jars of grape jelly, and there would be a loaf of bread lying around somewhere in there. The bread was stale, as the loaf was close to its expiration date, but it's all that he had so there was no room for complaining. His parents just didn't buy much food. They bought a bare minimum of goods: bread, milk, eggs, but that was about it. It would be a pleasant surprise if his mom would bother to dig out some of her cash and buy something that tasted better…

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Yakko groaned. Speak of the devil, he thought.

Begrudgingly, Yakko got up from his chair and toddled over to the door. He knew that his mother was impatiently waiting for him to unlock the front door for her and let her in. They went through the same routine every day, so it wasn't as if there was some weirdo creeping behind that door, at least he hoped there wasn't. Turning the doorknob, Yakko found his mother leaning against the railing of their two story apartment, trying to steady herself. She was noticeably exhausted, with her struggling to keep herself from falling backwards down the concrete stairs. Yakko backed up some, as he allowed his tired mother to enter the apartment. His mok's work clothes looked dirty, and were in desperate need of a wash. Her apron had a bunch of stains on it, not to mention her toon gloves had turned yellow overtime from working with food every day.

"Hi, mom," Yakko told her, in a fake, optimistic tone.

"Hi, sweetie," the woman replied with a heavy sigh. She moved right past him, without a single hug or kiss, but with how filthy his mom looked in that moment, Yakko wasn't sure if he even wanted to receive a hug from her.

With his mom failing to fully recognize his presence, Yakko moved back into the kitchen where he had left his PBJ. He pulled the chair out and slumped down into it. He picked up the sandwich and started eating it, taking his time with every bite. It was the fifth night in a row where he was eating a PBJ for dinner, so it was needless to say that the child was getting tired of eating the same thing every day. But there was no ham, no turkey, no pastrami in the fridge, and it wasn't like he could just pull a slice of bologna out of his pants and eat it – Yakko didn't even know how to make food with his hammerspace. They had cheese in the fridge, but cheese gave him a tummy ache the last time he ate it. It probably expired way before then; his parents were prone to buying the cheapest food they could find, whether it was expired or not. So, Yakko was stuck eating the same sandwich every day. Everyday with little to no change. Everyday.

His mom entered the kitchen a few minutes later. She had changed into a blue crop top and skinny jeans. Yakko had just finished eating his sandwich, and was about ready to leave the table and go do something else. But his mom sat down at the table next to him, meaning that she probably wanted to talk to him, but Yakko was not in the mood to talk to her. He sighed. He hasn't seen his mom all day, so he might as well check up on her and see how she is doing.

"How was work?" Yakko asked.

"Oh! Goddammit! I'm tired!" she replied, exasperated.

"You got some rude customers today, didn't you?" He figured.

"Darling, every day, I get rude customers!" She ranted, "which is what makes working at the deli so miserable! I don't think I can eat another sandwich for the rest of my life!"

"I just ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It's the fifth day in a row I had one for dinner."

"Well, I'm glad you ate something. You're becoming all bone and skin." His mother took her hand and poked around at his slim stomach and his bony rib cage.

Yakko sighed, sadly. This wasn't the first time his mom had pointed this out, and it will certainly not be the last time either. It is true that he has been eating less and less over the last couple of months. He's just been so caught up in looking after his baby siblings that he just couldn't find the time to eat.

"I know, I know. I'm skinnier than all my friends are, but I still eat when I can. I guess there isn't a lot of food in the cabinet's that are fancying my tastebuds," said Yakko.

He probably told her too much, as his mother was starting to become aggravated.

"Yakkavier Warner, that's bullshit and you know it!" His mother scolded, using his full name instead of his nickname. "There is plenty of food in the cabinets for you to eat. Your father and I had been to the store many times this month to buy food for you. Eat some of it, won't you?"

"I'll try to," he replied bluntly.

"You better! How about you start drinking more milk? If you aren't going to eat a lot, then you should at least give your body some nutrition."

"Milk makes my tummy hurt. And then I can't stop farting for an hour," grumbled Yakko.

He saw his mother raise her arm. Yakko gulped, preparing for what was coming. He quickly shut his eyes as his mother smacked him across his face. He nearly fell out of his chair from being slapped so hard. Yakko could see this coming from a mile away, but he was still in a state of shock when it actually happened. He rubbed his now sore cheek with his hand. He could feel a bruise beginning to take form on his face. Yakko winced, trying to hold back tears of pain, trying his hardest to remain strong. But it was hard, especially when you were just smacked silly by your own mother for talking back to her. Now, he was in big trouble.

"I don't know what the hell is up with you this evening, but I'm NOT going to take it anymore. YOU HEAR ME!?" His mom threatened him. "Either you stop being mouthy with me, or you can march off to your room for the rest of the night!"

Yakko trembled, not being able to say a word at first. His eyes gazed up at his mom's angry glare. That cold, heartless, empty glare. In the back of his mind, he wanted to fight back. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong. He had that desire within him to stand up for himself, but he was too much of a coward to do so. Poor Yakko was already too hurt from what happened to do anything but cry. Those tears were forming under his eyes, but he still held them back so as to not look any more like a coward than he already does. Defeated, frightened, and heart broken, he decided to obliviously accept his mother's harsh words.

"I'm sorry, mama. I…I won't do it again," he told her, looking on in shame.

"Good. Don't make me do it again," his mom finished ominously.

The woman then turned to face away from it. She pulled a cigarette and a lighter out of her hammerspace. She held the cigarette up to her mouth with one hand, and used her other hand to hold her lighter up to the cigarette. With a flick of the lighter, she used it to light the cigarette. She set the lighter down on the table, holding the cigarette with two fingers, blowing puffs of smoke out of her mouth. Yakko coughed as smoke floated over his head, getting into his eyes, nose, and even his mouth. Not to mention that the smell was atrocious; Yakko could barely breathe whenever there was cigarette smoke in the air. He took this as his opportunity to leave.

Yakko hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room, past the couch and the TV and into the entrance of a hallway that led to where his bedroom was. Before he entered, though, he turned his head back towards the kitchen where his mother was sitting, puffing away on her cigarette. He frowned, seeing his mother in the condition she was in. He winced, finally allowing himself to cry. With tears streaming down his face, Yakko ran to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. When he looked at his reflection, Yakko saw the large, red handmark on his cheek. He wiped his tears away with his finger, then he rubbed his cheek with his tear-smothered fingers, wincing at the pain.

"Why does mom have so many expectations for me?" He asked himself out loud. "Why does she have to hit me every time I do something that's wrong?"

Yakko didn't have an answer for either of these questions, but he couldn't help but wonder about these sorts of things. It wasn't the first time his mom had hit him, or the last time, and this goes for his father as well. But every time it did happen, he always felt like a total failure. Like he is the reason that his parents have a hard life. And he's just stuck as the caretaker for his baby siblings while his parents leave him alone. Sadly, Yakko didn't believe that his situation would ever change. He would always be stuck where he's at, with him being blamed for every mishap his family may face.

"Yakko?"

Yakko flinched, startled by the sudden voice coming from behind him. Turning his head, he saw a groggy Wakko standing in the doorway, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Wakko?" He asked, approaching his brother. "What are you doing up, sib? You should be asleep by now."

"I have to go potty," replied Wakko.

He bent down to his sibling. He couldn't explain it, but the sudden presence of his little brother brought a feeling of relief to Yakko. He looked at his brother sadly, tears still luminating in his eyes. Wakko suddenly raised his hand up and touched Yakko's cheek. He flinched at the pain. He quickly forced his brother's hand off of his cheek. Wakko was confused as to what was the matter.

"What's that red spot on Yakko's face?" His little brother asked.

Yakko felt like he was going to cry again. He only realized now that his brother didn't know what was happening, didn't know how much pain he was in, and how much it hurt him. Wakko was still an innocent child, unaware of the dread that was looming over their family. He suddenly had the urge to hug his brother. He wrapped his arms around Wakko and embraced himself into his body. As bad as he had it, Yakko knew that his brother would always be there when he needed him most. As much of a brat as Wakko could be, he still cared about him a lot, much more than Yakko could fully comprehend.

"I love you so much, Wakko," he told his brother, "and I promise that I will never let anyone hurt you. Ever." And that was a promise that Yakko would live by.