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Chapter Text

"Yakko, are you seriously going to wear just your slacks and a bow tie?" Dot asks critically.

"Last I heard, it wasn't a crime?" Yakko snarks, but he gives Dot's ears an affectionate ruffle. "Sorry, sis. I didn't mean to snap your nose off. Karen is still giving me shit over marrying her daughter."

It's Dot's turn to sigh, and for good reason. Sally's mother is, to put it politely, the whole reason why the name Karen became so reviled; she's a living embodiment of Satan, according to Yakko, who got grilled mercilessly by his future mother-in-law a couple of days after his proposal to Sally. Karen had seemed bound and determined to give her future son-in-law a proper dressing down for daring to think that he could steal her "sweet daughter away", and ever since then, the two have been at loggerheads. Mike had told his future son-in-law that his ex wife's nasty attitude had been one of the many reasons why he'd divorced her in the first place, and Yakko had certainly seen why. 

Dot firms her shoulders. "Don't let her get to you," she advises her oldest brother. "Sally's a grown woman and -" She gets cut off by a crash outside the room, followed by the foulest language known to human- and toonkind. Yakko's eyes go as wide and round as dinner plates, and he sprints from the room, Dot on his heels. They're greeted by two very angry women confronting each other, as well as a priceless vase lying in pieces on the floor. Dot sees red, but she's beaten to the punch by Yakko, who storms up to Karen. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he demands. 

Karen folds her arms. "Taking my daughter away from you," she snaps. "I've put up with this nonsense long enough, and I've had it up to my eyeballs! You're nothing but a filthy toon, and toons have no business marrying humans! Especially one with such a lecherous reputation as you!"

Dot and Sally wince as Yakko's face darkens with a rage few have ever lived to tell the tale of. Miraculously, he refrains from letting fly, instead fixing Karen with a cold glare. "You've got a mouth on you," he says curtly. "No wonder Mike divorced your ass. You think all that crazy stuff on Animaniacs was real?" He barks out a short laugh. "Of course you do. Well, lemme set the record straight, lady. Hello Nurse and I are the best of friends, and she was the one who came up with the gag of me and Wakko chasing after her! And she would never have done so if she didn't trust us implicitly!"

"Is that true?" Sally whispers to Dot. The youngest sibling nods. "He'd never dream of doing half the stuff we acted out," she whispers back. 

Karen is not having it. "I don't believe you," she says coldly. "And I refuse to believe Sally's claims you never had sex with her. You've probably ra-" She gets no further, and recoils, eyes widening as she puts a hand to her cheek. But it's not Yakko nursing a sore hand; it's Sally, her eyes blazing as she glares at her mother with a rage that surpasses Yakko's, and Dot winces again. Sally's sexual past is a sore spot with her, and Dot knows Karen is in for one hell of a bollocking. 

Sally, however, simply points to the door. "Get out," she says quietly. 

Karen's eyes widen. "What did you say?" she hisses. 

"Get. Out." Sally's voice is like iron as she spits the two words out. "You're no longer invited to my wedding, and I will raise hell before I ever let you near any children Yakko and I adopt in the future. I never want to lay eyes on you again." 

Karen's mouth opens and shuts, but in the end, she has no choice but to huff and bow out. "You'll be sorry," she says, but something's broken in her, and with that salvo, she leaves, head held high, but with that lingering sense of something broken hanging around long after the door slams shut behind her. Dot lets out a long sigh. 

"Do you think she'll try again?" she asks. 

"She won't want to," Sally says firmly, but the tears are fast coming, and Yakko shepherds his fiancee into their room. Dot wisely leaves them to it, and summons a dustpan and brush to sweep up the shattered vase. She doesn't want to admit it, but she's got the nasty feeling Karen will be back, and the results even uglier the next time around. 

Chapter Text

There's two days left to go before The Big Day, and Yakko is full of nerves as he wakes up that morning. Sally hasn't said much of how she feels following the confrontation with her mother, and Yakko feels a slow-growing sense of dread start in the pit of his stomach, especially when Sally doesn't respond to his good morning kiss quite as enthusiastically as usual. He tries to tell himself it's just pre-wedding jitters, but their shower is less cuddly than normal, and Yakko finally admits his fears as he gets their breakfast ready. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?" he asks, honouring a promise he and Sally had made to each to each other at the start of their relationship - to never beat around the bush and to always be upfront. It'd worked in the past, but Yakko isn't so sure it's going to work now. No matter the answer, he vows, he refuses to be mad at Sally.

Sally sighs and stares at her coffee cup. "I don't know," she admits, a shadow in her eyes as she looks up at her fiance. "I want to marry you, more than anything. But Mom..." She makes an angry sound in the back of her throat. "You know what she's like. When she's not getting her way through open confrontation, she digs and digs, until it feels like needles burying themselves in the back of your brain, until you feel ready to scream, or worse, give in so they'll go away." She sighs. "Mom was very good at that when I was growing up, and she hasn't changed her ways. She's been texting me non stop ever since the fight, and I know I should block her, but there's this tiny part of me that wants to hope she'll realise her mistake."

"She won't," Wakko says from the kitchen doorway. "People like that won't ever change. You may as well hope for a small branch to be strong enough to save you from drownin'."

Yakko barks out a short laugh as his younger brother starts getting his fifteen pieces of toast ready. "Not beatin' around the bush today, I see?"

"Hey, I call 'em as I see 'em," the middle Warner replies unapologetically, and Sally manages a weak smile. "'Sides," Wakko adds, "if you give up, you give the old bat what she wants, and sure as my name is Wakko, she'll gloat like nobody's business. My advice? Block her and let her kick up a stink."

"I want to," Sally admits. "And I know it's the right thing to do. But past experience..."

"Screw past experience," Wakko says crossly. "If we all went about lettin' past experience dictate what we do now, we'd all be stuck in the Stone Ages." With this blunt assessment, he collects his toast and walks out. Yakko smirks. 

"He's got a way with words, our Wakko," he says, but his smile dies at the heartbroken expression on Sally's face, and his heart plummets to the soles of his paws as he reaches out and takes her hands gently in his, running his fingers over the pearl engagement ring he gave her what seemed a lifetime ago. "You okay?"

Sally shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says, as the first tears fall. She disentangles her hands and slowly pulls the ring off her finger. "I do love you, and I always will, but I ... I need time to think."

Yakko takes a deep breath as he puts the ring in his pocket. He's not surprised, really, but it still hurts, and he makes a silent vow to give Karen what for the next time he lays eyes on her smug face. "Take all the time you need," he says. "I'll move in with Wakko - I'm sure he won't mind me ..."

"No," Sally says, the tears streaming freely down her cheeks. "I'll go to Dad's for a bit, till I can get all this mess sorted out. I'm also going to give Mom a talking to and tell her to stay the hell out of my life. I just ... I wish things had been different, I really do. But Mom... she digs, and despite what Wakko says, a lifetime of conditioning is very hard to break." She gives Yakko a sad smile as she stands up. "This isn't goodbye, and our story isn't over yet." 

But as she leaves the kitchen to go pack, Yakko can't help shake the horrible feeling that it is goodbye, and he clenches his hands into fists, anger a hot, bitter taste on his tongue. Karen, he decides, as he stands up, is going to get the talking to to end all talkings to. 

Chapter Text

Brain taps his chin as Yakko finishes explaining the disastrous events of the last few days. "I do not presume to offer advice," the little mouse says finally. "But I will offer you a story. And you'll find it similar to your own, I think.

"Pinky and I were orphans when we first met," he says. "We were part of a batch of labmice to be used in various... 'experiments', namely, breeding." His mouth twists in momentary disgust. "Their idea was to create a mouse intelligent enough to think and act for itself, and we were the seeds of that experiment. I categorically refused, knowing, even in my unenlightened state, that it was wrong to genetically alter life to suit the whims and wishes of those doing the altering.

"Naturally, I was ostracised, but Pinky was the only mouse who understood me. Of course, this was long before our own alteration, but even then, he soon learned all there was to know about me, and to borrow a term from your brother, he got me in a way no other mouse did. They all happily submitted to the breeding, but, naturally, it went horribly wrong, and before long, Pinky and I were the only two mice left. Being males, they couldn't breed us, so they decided to separate us and try again. 

"Pinky categorically refused to leave my side." Brain's eyes fill with tears as he says this - a rare sight for him. "He fought tooth and nail to stay with me, knowing that, if we were parted, I'd fall into the trap of doing what they wanted of me. And they were sneaky, as your esteemed future mother-in-law is. They dug at me, day and night, until I was ready to give in, just to get them to stop needling me. But Pinky ... Pinky kept me sane. And in his own inimitable way, he let me know that it was perfectly fine to go against programmed conditioning. And if those doing the condititoning kicked up a stink? Well, Pinky conveyed, not in so many words, that they could shove their conditioning someplace unpleasant. I fought tooth and nail, torn beween my desire to do as the scientists wished, and love for Pinky. And though it went against the grain of what had been programmed into me since I was small, my love for Pinky won out, and we broke free. And the rest, as they say, is history."

Yakko is silent for a long while after this. "You were right," he says at last. "But... what if Sally's love for me isn't strong enough?"

Brain chuckles. "I think you've forgotten a rather component," he says. "Your siblings are just as determined, if not more so, to see you and Sally wed. It is what you have worked for ever since you fell in love with her, and your siblings, I think, are very reluctant to let this opportunity pass you by. You might have given up, but they have not."

Sally sighs as she opens the door to see Dot and Wakko standing there, arms folded. "Is this an intervention?" she asks wearily, standing aside to let them enter.

"Yes," Dot says bluntly. "I overheard on the grapevine you're going to call it off."

"Ouch," Sally deadpans. "If you're going to drive more nails into me, forget it. Dad already read me the riot act, and I haven't even thought of how the hell I'm going to break this to Yakko."

"Then don't," Wakko snaps, a rather uncharacteristic thing for him. "You and Yakko are head over heels for each other - why the hell would you throw it away?"

"You don't know my mother," Sally snaps back, glaring at him. "If I go ahead and marry Yakko, she's going to make my life a living nightmare - she said so herself. Short of tying me up and taking me over the border to Mexico or something, and she's mad enough to do it anyway. I've spoken to loads of therapists, and none of them have been able to break the years of conditioning she put me through!" She takes a deep breath. "What the hell do you propose I do? Defy her wishes? Sure, I can do that, and I'd love nothing more than to be able to turn around and flip her off by marrying Yakko. But I can't."

Dead silence follows, and then Dot gets up. "Then I guess we're wasting our time," she says curtly, gesturing for Wakko to follow her. "I thought you were better than that, but I guess I was wrong."

Sally gapes as the two younger siblings head to the door. "I beg your pardon?" she snaps, hands on hips as she stands. "I thought you two actually cared about me!"

"We did," Dot says, turning to glare at her. "And we still do, God help us. But you don't seem to care much for us."

"That's not true!" Sally protests. In a burst of speed, she gets to the door and blocks it, arms spread out, even though she knows Dot and Wakko can easily ... 

Wait, Sally thinks to herself. How the hell did she get over to the door so fast? Then she sees Wakko and Dot grinning at her, and her eyes widen. "Oh Spielberg," she says. "You two... wait, what the hell is going on?"

"Your mom's not mad at you for marrying Yakko because you're a human and he's a toon," Wakko says. "She's mad because you're a half-toon, and all your life she's been systematically suppressing that part of you through abuse, medication, and God knows what else. We figured you out ages ago - that's why we had to get you mad enough to break that conditioning."

"Does Yakko know?" Sally demands, as things slowly start to make sense to her. Half suppressed memories of impossible feats she performed as a child fill her head, and she gasps as it all falls into place with a clink. 

"No, but I don't think he's going to make too much of a fuss," Dot says. 

And with that, Sally finally understands, and lets go. Her transformation from human to toon isn't a spectacular flash of light, but rather a subtle blurring, and when it clears, she immediately summons a mirror to look at herself. It's a bit of a slow process, as long dormant powers surface, but she's rather taken by her reflection when she finally gets a look at herself; she's black and white like Dot and Wakko, but her colours are reversed, and she smiles as she lets her mirror go. "Mom is going to be pissed," she says gleefully. 

Chapter Text

Yakko and Sally's reunion is filled with tears, kisses, and promises to never part again, but the cherry on top for Yakko is the revelation of Sally's true nature as a half-toon, and he immediately declares it the second best day of his life. "What would be the best day, then?" Sally teases. 

"Us getting married?" Yakko says hopefully. "I know it's all a lot to take in for you, and I'm willing to wait..." He's cut off with yet another kiss (of which there have been plenty), and by the time the stars have cleared from his vision, he knows that the wedding is definitley happening. "Can we get married tomorrow?" he asks.

"Today," Sally says firmly. "I'm not waiting one minute more than I have to." 

Yakko kisses her again, knowing there's still fear lurking under the surface of his wife-to-be's happiness, but also knowing that this time, she'll rise to the challenge if her mother rears her ugly head again. 

And rear her head she does. The doors of the church (neither Sally nor Yakko were religious, but Mike was, and they decided to respect his wishes out of a sincere love for him) burst open just as the vows have been concluded, but Mike gestures for the priest to continue, and the rings are quickly exchanged. That done, the priest declares Yakko and Sally man and wife, and the two finally share their first kiss as a married couple...

... only to be yanked apart two seconds later, and Sally stumbles as Karen throws her to the floor. "How dare you?" she screams. "I told you not to marry this degenerate!"

Sally gets to her feet, smooths her dress, and decks her mother in the face. Not with a mallet, but with words. "How dare you," she counters calmly. "You abused and drugged me into a state of limp compliance to keep my true nature from me, and if it weren't for my new siblings, I'd still be kowtowing to your every will."

"Toons are filthy!" Karen snaps. "I curse the day my parents met, and I wish I'd drowned you at birth!" 

"Shame, I could say the same for you," Sally says. "But I'm glad they didn't, because I wouldn't be here to tell you to stick it up your ass. I've married Yakko, and there isn't a damn thing you can do to prevent it. It's all legal and aboveboard, and if you don't like it, too bad. Grow up and move on for once in your life, instead of making everyone else around you miserable just because you're one of those dreaded toons."

Karen huffs, but this time, the wind is well and truly taken out of her sails. She does let one last salvo fly, however. "Thank God you can't breed," she says, folding her arms. "I'm glad I took care of ..." She falters at the epic death glares all four Warners lay on her, and if looks could kill, it was a fair bet she'd be dead before she hit the ground. 

"What. Did. You. Say?" Yakko grinds out, looking ready to do murder. 

Sally's worked it out. "She had me sterlised as a child," she says, "or as a teen. I remember her telling me that I needed to have something done to fix an issue going on with my insides, but I never worked out just what it was till she let it slip just now." 

Mike now joins his family, eyes blazing as he glares at his ex-wife. "Go," he says, his normally affable manner eclipsed by anger, and that does what four toon death glares could not; Karen wisely exits stage left, never to be seen again, and Mike sighs. "Now you know - again - why I divorced her," he says. "I just wish I'd fought harder to get custody, but..." He sighs again and Sally hugs him. 

"It's not your fault," she says. "I just wish embracing my true nature had undone the damage, but toon physiology can only go so far. At least now I'm protected from future ... what is it?" she asks Dot, who has a speculative look on her face. 

"Pardon the TMI," the youngest Warner sibling says, "but ...?"

Sally gets her meaning. "Oh, that all works," she says. "It can't come to fruition... hang on. Are you offering to be a surrogate?" 

Dot shrugs. "You're my sister," she says, "I'd do anything to see a mini-you - or a mini-Yakko, though God help us all - running around and causing mischief. You've got the goods, I've got the oven, so why not?"

This gets her swarmed by Yakko and Sally, and Wakko grins through his tears as he joins the cuddle pile, all four Warners purring happily as they nuzzle one another, tails wagging as they rejoice in the knowledge all is not lost - that mini-Sallys and mini-Yakkos are now a much more viable future prospect. Mike shares a smile with the priest. "Do you want to tell your sister, or should I?" he asks slyly.

The priest - his former brother-in-law and best friend - smirks in a rather unholy manner. "I suspect - rather uncharitably - that the screams of rage will be heard all the way from California," he says, and Mike chuckles as he joins the Warners to share in their celebrations of this latest unexpected win over his ex wife. And not for the first time, he blesses the day Yakko came into his club more than four years ago - not only has it led to Yakko and Sally finally getting married, it has now opened the door to grandchildren, and Mike knows he's not alone in looking forward to seeing what this next chapter in the Warners' lives will bring. 

Chapter Text

Yakko sighs as he plays with his paddleball, tail slightly fluffed from irritation. Once more he's visiting Scratchy in hopes of getting his voice back, but after ten years of endless doctor visits and therapy, the damage is too great, and Yakko's ears go back. I love Scratchy like the father I never had, but why is he so darned persistent?

"Yakko?"

Hello Nurse's voice breaks him out of his unhappy reverie, and he winks at her, winning an affectionate smile. Their relationship off-camera very warm, despite the constant skirt-chasing of the old Animaniacs days, and Hello Nurse has been one of his biggest supporters ever since he and Wakko returned to Burbank a few months ago. "Are you ready?" she asks, giving him a gentle ear-ruffle that helps sooth his nerves. Still, he's full of trepidation, but he nods, giving Hello Nurse his most confident, winning grin and a double thumbs up for good measure. She gives him another ear-ruffle, before opening the door and letting him enter Scratchy's office. The good doctor is waiting behind his desk, as usual, but this time, he's got a pencil and paper, instead of the usual contraptions he'd been using in the past. Yakko raises an eyebrow.

"You were drawn with the constant yakking and the wisecracks," Scratchy says, once the nervous toon has taken a seat. "I thought we would be dispensing with the usual tests and trying something new. I have taken the liberty of 'borrowing' one of Mr Plotz's special pencils."

Despite himself, Yakko grins. He and Plotz have been on the outs for months, not just for the CEO's reprehensible idea of replacing him and Wakko with body doubles, of all things, but for also hinting at a reunion show, depsite Yakko's clear inability to speak following the fire that almost claimed his and Wakko's lives. Scratchy had been equally incensed at the mere notion of a reunion show when the two Warner brothers had been through hell and back, and for him to "borrow" one of Plotz's animation pencils spoke of the depth of his desire to see Yakko back to his talky best. Yakko decides then and there to give it a crack, no matter what the result. He nods his assent. 

"Good," Scratchy says, smiling in relief. "Then I will humbly suggest you draw yourself, and give yourself the ability to speak once more. I do not promise it will be a success, but I am hoping that it will prove a worthwhile attempt. I am not one for failure, and I do not think you are, either."

This is true, Yakko concedes, and he takes up the pencil, heart hammering in trepidation as he begins drawing a sketch of himself. He knows from his own creation that it doesn't have to be a perfectly fleshed out design - the magic of the animation pencils gives life in a way that no ordinary pencil can - and as he draws, he can feel the magic, working to fill in the gaps. He has no real idea of how he's meant to draw himself with the ability to speak, not when his vocal cords have been so devastatingly destroyed, but he trusts to the process, and as he finishes his sketch, he knows the pencil will take his desire and run with it. 

But when he blows on the sketch - the final ingredient in a toon's creation - the normal golden glitter does not happen, and his sketch remains on the paper, just a drawing, as if it had been created with an ordinary pencil. He tries again, desperate, but again, nothing happens. Ordinarily, a toon could make changes in this fashion, and only blowing on the paper once was required. But Yakko knows, and his heart sinks as he sits back, staring at Scratchy with tears in his eyes. The good doctor, for his part, looks absolutely devastated. He opens his mouth, but Yakko forestalls him with a raised hand, tears blurring his vision as he gets up and hurries out, silent sobs racking him. 

After spending a considerable amount of time - most of the afternoon, in fact - crying in his siblings' arms, Yakko sits on the balcony, legs dangling through the railings as he watches life on the lot go down below. Feeling more wretched and useless than ever, Yakko wonders if his life will ever regain the thrill and joy it had before the fire which had changed him so drastically. 

"No, but mopin' about won't change things."

Yakko jumps, tail fluffing out, and he blinks when he sees Slappy perched on the rail, ever-present handbag at the ready. At his stunned expression, the old grey squirrel smirks. "I can't read your mind," she admits, "but you've never been one to be able to hide your feelins." She jumps down and hauls him to his feet. "Come with me," she says firmly. "I've got just the thing you need, and it ain't magic pencil mumbo-jumbo."

Ten minutes later, Yakko peers suspiciously into his cup of tea. It looks like ordinary tea, but there's something in there that makes it stink to high heaven, and Yakko grimaces as he looks at Slappy. "I've been around the block a few times," she says. "We toons are tougher than we look, and when I was your age, I got into more scraps than most. You might think you and your siblings handled things that would kill a human, but I've been through things that would kill you. You've got no idea how easy you have it - here." She doffs the hat she's never seen without, and Yakko gasps, horrified as he stares at the long scar running across the gray fur. "Got that when someone took a machete to me," Slappy says, donning her hat with a matter-of-factness that shakes Yakko to his core. "Wasn't long after you three were created - and us older toons were deemed useless now that they had 'fresh blood.' So, they got rid of us the only way they knew how - cold-blooded murder. My head got sliced clean in two, and it took years before I was deemed safe enough to be released from hospital. Spent months runnin' around in a daze, feelin' like I'd come to the end of my run."

Yakko is silent, stunned witless, and Slappy grins mirthlessly. "Yeah, I thought that'd shock ya. And I felt the way you did, like there was no way to fix the mess. But an old friend sat me down and gave me his great-grandma's recipe in the form of the worst cup of tea I've ever had the misfortune to drink. It tasted like the hind end of a horse, and smelled twice as worse, but when I drank it, it did what nothing else could. It healed me, properly, and now, you'd never know I'd been used as target practice." 

She chuckles. "I asked my friend about it, and he told me there was nothin' special in the tea - nothin' but my own desperate desire to not walk around with my head feelin' like a bunch of noodles. And I'm tellin' you the same - there ain't nothin' in there beyond what I put in accordin' to my friend. But if anything's gonna cure you of the sulks, that will."

Yakko glares at her, angry enough to drink the tea to spite the old harridan. He downs it in one gulp, gagging at the foul taste, but determined not to show any weakness before a squirrel who'd survived murder, and when he's done coughing, he glares even more murderously at Slappy, already preparing a silent tirade. "You listen here..." he begins, furious, and then he stops, jaw dropping in astonishment. It's a wheeze, to be sure, but those three words were audible. And for the first time in over ten years, he feels hope stirring to life. "How the hell did that work?" he demands, still stunned, but processing the fact he can talk again. 

Slappy shrugs. "We're toons," she reminds him, surprisingly gentle. "We can survive things that would kill humans. And all it takes is a push in the right direction. My friend did to me what I did to you, and I was so mad at him I drank the tea, just so I could then tell him how much of an ass he was. Telling the brutal, honest truth is the one thing that will heal us of things deemed incurable even by toon standards. My head was one such example, and your voice is another." She grins again, a friendly, affectionate grin. "Betcha they never taught you that in Toon School."

Yakko can only shake his head and hug her in fierce gratitude, tears streaming down his cheeks as he thanks her over and over again - and it's a welcome surprise when she hugs him just as hard, not once making a quip about sappiness. Yakko supposes it's because they've got a shared history of trauma, and he feels closer than ever to the old grey squirrel as he finally makes himself let go. "Thank you," he says again. "I owe you one."

Slappy gives him a thwack over the head with her purse, her acerbic nature reasserting itself in familiar fashion, but Yakko can see the shine of tears in her eyes. "You owe me nothin'," she says firmly. "But if the first words outta your mouth aren't to tell your brother and sister you love 'em..." She leaves the threat unfinished, and Yakko laughs as he takes his leave. 

The sun is setting in a ball of molten gold, and Wakko kicks his legs restlessly as he and Dot keep an eye out for their brother. Neither of them want to even consider the possibility of Yakko taking his life, but after the failure in Scratchy's office, the two younger siblings are understandably worried. Those worries, however, are soon assuaged when Yakko climbs over the railing and scoops them up in his arms, purring fit to burst as he nuzzles them. The hug, while welcome, is overshadowed by the fact that, for the first time since his return, Yakko's purring is audible. Dot makes the conclusion first, and Wakko isn't far behind her; as one, they pry themselves off their older brother. "What happened?" Dot demands, heart thumping with a terrible hope she still can't quite bring herself to grab onto. 

"I love you, sibs," Yakko says in answer, his voice a little rusty still, but that's enough to set all three siblings crying with joy as they hug each other hard, purring and murmuring heartfelt endearments to one another. And in the middle of it all, Dot whispers a fervent thank you to the deities who not only brought her brothers back to her arms where they belonged, but also gave her beloved eldest brother the ability to speak, after months of fruitless attempts to restore that lost ability. 

She'll ask questions later, and laugh over Slappy's unconventional method, but right now, she's going to ride the high of finally, finally having everything back to normal. 

Chapter Text

Yakko frowns critically at himself in the mirror, poking his tongue out at his reflection. This sets him to laughing, and Wakko pokes his head in the door. "All ready, big brother?" he asks. After being non-verbal for the first five years of his life, the now thirteen-year-old has a full vocabulary, much to his older brother's relief. 

"As ready as I'll ever be," Yakko says, plucking crossly at his shirt. If he'd had his way, he'd have gone in just his pants and a tie, but Scratchy - who'd looked after them for the last eight years after being awarded official guardianship of the orphaned Warners - had told him to dress a bit more smartly. Yakko had, however, categorically refused to wear shoes, and Scratchy had let it go, knowing there were some battles you simply could not win. 

The last eight years, Yakko reflects, as he and his brother go to the lounge room, had been nothing short of amazing. Scratchy had been a devoted guardian even before it had all been made official, and under his care, the siblings were thriving. Yakko now had a steady job and a steady girlfriend, Wakko was excelling in school, and Dot was proving herself to be just as smart as her immediate older brother, having declared on her tenth birthday that she was going to be a scientist. Yakko himself feels stronger and more confident than he did nine years ago, and he smiles as Dot jumps up, adjusting the yellow flower hairtie holding her ears in place. "Let's go make me the one to put up with all the teenage and puberty angst," he teases, and Dot giggles. 

The hearing is short and to the point, and Yakko, as instructed by Scratchy, gives clear and concise answers. There's a brief interlude while the official people confer, and when they come back, they're all smiles as they officially declare Yakko to be a competent guardian. Yakko then signs the papers to make it properly official, and afterwards spends a good ten minutes hugging his siblings, who hold onto him a little bit harder out of sheer relief. Scratchy had said it was highly unlikely Yakko's guardianship would be rejected, but he had warned there would be a possibility, with Dot and Wakko placed into temporary foster care until the resulting legal brangle was sorted out. 

Thankfully, it hasn't come to pass, and once the siblings untangle themselves from one another, Scratchy and Yakko's girlfriend come over to congratulate them. "So, what are we doing to celebrate?" Lexi asks, grinning at her boyfriend, who gives her just as big a grin back, with more than a little relief thrown in for good measure. 

"I can think of a few things," Yakko says with a wicked eyebrow waggle, and Scratchy sighs, while Dot mutters "Boys" under her breath. Wakko just shrugs. 

In the end, they all decide to go back to Yakko's apartment, where a pizza party is held to celebrate his successful hearing. The board games are brought out after the pizza (and the cardboard boxes they came in) is devoured, and just this once, Wakko and Dot are allowed to stay up past their bed time. They eventually fall asleep in their brother's arms, and, one by one, he carries them carefully to bed, tucking them in and kissing them gently on the forehead, thanking God he still has this opportunity to do so. NIne years of hard work, of learning, of doing his best to take care of the two most special treasures in his life ... and he gets to continue helping his siblings blossom and grow into adults, ready to take on the world and make their mark, just as he is doing. And it's the best feeling in the world. 

Chapter Text

"Christ on a bike!" 

This epithet, followed by the sound of something being thrown across the tower, lets Yakko know all he needs to know, and he goes over to scoop Dot in his arms and hold her, purring as she cries into his fur. "I hate these stupid crutches!" she sobs, and Yakko purrs louder, pressing her head against his chest, whispering helpless endearments until her tears run dry, a slow anger burning like a volcano in his heart. 

It's been this way for the last several months following the accident that took Dot's left paw, and while Yakko has, on the surface, forgiven the drunk driver who struck his sister, anger still gnaws at his insides whenever he recalls that terrible night. He knows he was in no way responsible for the accident, but occasionally, when talking with Scratchy, he can't help but blame himself for being so ornery that Dot had to leave the tower to cool off. Scratchy assures him at every session that in time, the guilt will fade, but it's hard for Yakko, who has to live every day with the sight of his beloved little sister struggling to learn how to walk with just one paw. Her physical therapy has been slow going, and it's been suggested more than once that Dot is now suffering from PTSD from the accident. Yakko clenches his jaw as he holds Dot closer, knowing he has to get her diagnosed, but fearful of what the outcome might be. 

"You don't have to crush me," Dot mutters, and Yakko loosens his grip. 

"Sorry," he says. "I still get scared out of my wits."

Dot nuzzles him, and he tightens his grip again, knowing she was just venting her spleen. Their fights have lately evolved into the usual mallet-and-anvil-and-pie wars she engages in with Wakko whenever the two middle siblings get seriously annoyed with each other, and if occasionally a few biting remarks come out, they're no more savage than a verbal sparring match between any of the siblings on a good day. Yakko thanks the therapy sessions with Scratchy for that, and he kisses Dot's head. "Want to try again?"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidin's, but we've got bad news."

Yakko sighs as he stands up, holding Dot close as he turns to see Wakko in the doorway, his normal easygoing nature eclipsed by anger. "Has that louse's number finally come up?"

"Right on the nose," Wakko says, holding out the official papers saying it's time to face the driver who brought such sorrow on them what seems a lifetime ago. "And it's bad. He's not admittin' fault."

"Sonofabitch," Yakko and Dot say together, before sharing a smile and nuzzle, and despite his own slow-burning anger, Wakko's heart warms at the sight. 

The driver - Ben by name - looks shaky but defiant as the siblings troop into the courtroom. The defiance melts when he sees Dot steadfastly crutching her way along, and while she's not quite spiteful enough to make her missing paw obvious, neither does she hide it as she gets herself into a comfortable position between her brothers. Ben's face grows even more pale when Yakko and Wakko wrap their arms protectively around their sister, glaring at Ben all the while, and the poor man looks ready for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. 

The witness testimonies are damning, and despite fierce cross-examination by the defence, every witness stands by their testimony. By the end of it all, the defence attorney looks defeated and angry, and the prosecution has a hard time staying neutral. As such, the jury doesn't take long to deliver its verdict, and the verdict is an overwhelming "Guilty on all counts".

"Law and Order lied to us," Dot whispers to her brothers, and they stifle a chuckle. "I thought it was going to be a bloodbath." This gets a quiet snerk from their attorney, and Dot grins shamelessly before rearranging her face in more suitable lines as the sentence is read out. And it's hefty - the maximum penalty for drunk driving causing serious injury, plus another penalty for driving while disqualified, and attempting to flee the scene without rendering assistance. Ben is also forced to pay for all of Dot's medical expenses - not that she needs it, with Nora personally bankrolling all her treatments - and is faced with the requirement to have an interlock fitted on any car he buys in the future once he's cleared to drive again, which won't be for a good long while yet. Dot feels satisfied, but hollow as Ben is led away. "I don't feel like I've won," she says morosely as she ditches her crutches for the more pleasant option of being carried by Yakko, who doesn't object in the slightest.

"It does feel like a hollow win," Wakko agrees, frowning. "He looked really ashamed."

"It serves him right," Yakko says firmly, but even he has to admit he agrees with his siblings. "He can feel guilty and ashamed all he wants, but his actions led to Dot's accident, and he tried to pin the blame on her for sittin' where she was when he lost control. He's not sorry for hittin' her and smashin' her paw - he's sorry he got caught drink drivin' in the first place. Not to mention gettin' behind the wheel while he wasn't s'posed to, and dodgin' all his AA meetin's. He's gonna be forced to go to them once he gets outta jail, and he won't have a snowball's chance in hell to dodge 'em, not with his parole officer bein' on his doorstep first thing in the mornin'."

Dot and Wakko digest this. "It makes sense," the former finally admits. "I guess he's also going to be having a hard time getting alcohol?" 

"Right on the money," Yakko tells her. "In fact, his face is gettin' circulated throughout the entire state of California, and a few other states as well, I'd imagine. He won't be able to get a drop, and if anyone's caught sneakin' booze to him, they're in for a hard time as well." He sighs, shoulders slumping. "Alcohol is a bitch."

"You said it," Wakko agrees. "Yuck. No wonder you never let us touch the stuff."

"It's good in moderation, but it can be a pain to shake loose when it gets its claws in ya," Yakko says. "I should know; I've seen way too many parties get outta hand because booze was brought in. Why d'you think I never stayed long at the wrap parties? There was so much shady shit goin' on, and that was before the booze came into the picture. Once people started gettin' shitfaced, I got out of there faster than you can blink. And Ben's an example of what it does to ya - he's goin' to be havin' a hell of a time facin' his demons without the booze to drown 'em."

Dot kisses him silently on the cheek, tears in her eyes. "No wonder you were so scared that night," she says. 

Yakko smiles sadly. "When I got that first call, I thought my heart had been ripped right outta my chest. Seein' you lyin' there, all those wires attached to  your body, wonderin' if you were goin' to die on me durin' the night... it scared the shit right outta me. And I know us fightin' before that wasn't a direct cause, but I'm still kickin' myself for bein' so damn mean to you that night, even now. But I've gotta remind myself - I didn't put you in that hospital bed. He did. And he's gotta live with knowin' he almost killed you because he couldn't lay off the booze. That's gonna eat at him for the rest of his life, and I'll wager you it just might, just might, scare him straight in a way all the AA meetin's and parole won't."

"Just like it scared you out of being less of a shit?" Wakko says, and this breaks the tension, causing Yakko to chuckle. 

"Fair point," he agrees. "C'mon, sibs; I've had enough doom and gloom. Let's get some donuts and eat the shop outta house and home."

"Good idea," Wakko and Dot say enthusiastically, glad to put today's events behind them. 

Chapter Text

When Dot awakens, she wonders if her worst nightmares have come true whens she discovers Yakko's newly installed ballpit has only herself and a still-sleeping Wakko in it. Then she sees her brother, standing at the counter with his back to her, staring down at his coffee cup. Her heart breaks at his slumped shoulders, and while she is still royally Pissed at him for his disappearing stunt 20 years ago, she knows the talk of the night before has cleared the air a little. She's still doubtful he intends to keep his word about not going anywhere without them again, and she sighs as she clambers out of the ballpit, holding her breath in worry she might wake Wakko. He stirs, cracks one eye open to give her a knowing look, and then goes to sleep again. Dot winces. 

Don't you go chasin' him away with your doubts, the look seems to say, and she wants to throttle Wakko for learning how to read her the way Yakko did - and still does. The oldest sibling has gone stiff at the sound of her paws on the floor, and he turns to face her with a bright smile, coffee cup held at an angle that suggests he knows her well enough still to need a defence against whatever she's ready to fling at him. "Mornin'," he says brightly. "Man, that ballpit is somethin' else! And I hafta compliment you on your keen eye for good appliances - took me forever to work that coffee machine out, but now, I want to marry it and have its babies! Well, if that's even a thing. But darnit, if it's not, I'm going to make it a thing!"

He's talking like the letters he sent while he was away - using banality and wisecracks to say a great deal without actually saying anything, and Dot restrains herself from taking the coffee cup from her brother and beating him over the head with it. 

Barely.

Instead, she meets banter for banter. "Knowing you, you'll go to Congress and demand that a law be made allowing people to marry their appliances," she says, refusing to let him see the fresh hurt his light talk has caused her. Had he learnt nothing? She shoves the hurt down. "God knows I've wanted to marry my air fryer on more than one occasion  - it's the perfect accessory to make a quick meal, as Wakko will attest to."

Wakko lets out a long, dissatisfied groan as he interrupts the banality war. "I'm goin' to Slappy's," he tells his two recalcitrant siblings. With that said, he exits the tower, slamming the door shut with a bit more force than necessary. Yakko winces. 

"What's eatin' him?" he asks.

As if he didn't know! But Dot refuses to take the opportunity with both hands. "More like what will he be eating?" she suggests, and Yakko throws her a brittle smile. He knows there's still a distance between them, despite their tearful reconciliation of the night before, and he knows it's his sharp wit which is causing a crack in his barely-repaired relationship with his sister. Dot once more resists the urge to thump him. "Let me show you the wonders of air-fryed French toast," she says, hoping the simple act of preparing breakfast for the two of them will mend this new crack. 

"So why do they call it French toast?" Yakko asks afterwards. He and Dot are settled comfortably on the couch, perusing Netflix for something good. But again, neither of them have taken the chance to try and repair a relationship that's on the verge of fracturing for good - primarily by sitting a good few inches apart from each other. Dot wishes fervently there was something she could do to break the re-forming ice between them. 

"I have no idea," she says. "But you have to admit, air-frying it is a good way to make it taste even better." 

Yakko salutes her with the remote, but the two dinky fingers on his left hand fail him, and he fumbles, swearing as he drops the remote. "Damn it," he says, fumbling around with his right hand to recover the recalcitrant bit of technology. "Here," he says, handing the remote to his sister. "Left hand doesn't want to work today. I blame..." He stops and swears again, but before he can put his mask up, Dot pounces, so to speak.

"What did happen to it?" she asks, deciding to cut to the chase and get to the heart of things before she and Yakko drive each other apart for good. 

Yakko gives her a haunted look, but, perhaps realising he's cornered, acquiesces. "Stopped at a diner," he says slowly. "No one wanted to give charity to a starvin' toon, but the cook took pity on me and told me if I could prove I knew my way around a kitchen, she'd let me sleep in the attic. I thought I'd hit the jackpot; a guard dog a few towns back decided to use my leg as a chew toy, hence the lovely present I got." He pulls his pants up and shows the deep scar on his leg. "Thought I was gonna die, and I won't lie, I was about ready for it. They saved me, barely, but I begged them not to tell you and Wakko where I was. I was hatin' on myself somethin' shockin' for leavin' you two behind, and I didn't want to come home." He gives a short, bitter laugh. "I might've stayed away for good, to be honest, if a passin' priest hadn't talked some sense in me."

He takes a deep breath. "Anyways, I thought I'd hit the big time at the diner, and I showed that cook a thing or two. She and her crew took a real shine to me, and for a while I thought things were lookin' up. But then a real rough bunch came in one night, and all hell broke loose. He was the cook's ex-boyfriend, and he didn't take too kindly to her leavin' him a few years back. She told me he'd almost beaten her to death when he found out she was leavin' him, and if it hadn't been for some good samaritans, she'd have died then and there. So she was real shaken up when she found out he and his buddies were there that night." Again he pauses to take a deep breath, and Dot holds hers, eyes filling with tears. He gives her a weak smile. 

"Let's just say shit hit the fan real quick when he recognised her. He was about ready to start whalin' into her, but I got between 'em faster than you could blink. She and I got along real well, and she reminded me of you a little bit. I didn't even think of what would happen to me; I had to protect her at all costs. I grabbed the biggest, heaviest pot I could find, and I yelled at her to run. She ran, and he ... clobbered the fuck out of me, yellin' about how he was goin' to ... um... well, let's just say he was goin' to mess me up for darin' to sleep with his girl." 

"Did you?" Dot asks.

"No," Yakko says. "Not for lack of tryin'. But in all seriousness, she was still too scared of men, and I wasn't about to do somethin' she didn't want me to do. But he took my defence of her to mean I was the new man on the block, and he... he messed me up. Right there on the floor. Broke two of the fingers on my left hand tryin' to punch his lights out, and his buddies laughed, sayin' I was askin' for it for bein' such a... ugh, you know the word I want to use."

Dot is too horrified to give a rejoinder, and Yakko smiles sadly as he continues. "When he was done, I was bleedin' in places no one's supposed to bleed from, and the last thing I remember before passin' out was thinking that this time, my luck really had run out. But some of the regulars called the cops, and he and his buddies were caught tryin' to cross state lines. Last I heard, they were all serving lengthy sentences in jail, and if there's any sorta of justice in this world, they'll be getting what they did to me, in spades. I don't normally wish that on anyone, but I'm willin' to make an exception just this once."

"Yakko," Dot whispers, tears blurring her vision. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me any more."

"Hafta," Yakko counters. "I didn't want to, but I could feel the coldness creepin' back in after last night. I was scared shitless, thinkin' last night was a dream, and I admit, I wanted to put the wall back up."

"Why?" Dot demands. 

"'Cause I know you're still spittin' mad at me!" Yakko snaps. "An' I don't blame you. Not one bit. I'd be mad at me too. That's why I was bein' such a cold jerk before. I didn't want things to be fixed, 'cause I'm scared you're still goin' to turf me out, even after you and Wakko took me back. I hurt the shit out of the both of you for twenty years instead of tryin' to talk things out with you and Scratchy. And I'm fuckin' terrified!"

Dot knows what he's so scared of, but she doesn't say it. "What are you scared of?" she asks instead. 

"I'm scared you don't love me anymore," Yakko says through gritted teeth. "Me'n Wakko, we can get back to normal in no time. But you'n I... Dot, you're my heart. I've never told you that, but you are. I love Wakko like nothing else, but I love you in a way I can't rightly put into words. Wakko'll curse and fume at me for a few weeks, and call me all kinds of uncomplimentary names, but it won't take us long to get back to how we usedta be, 'cause that's how we are. You'n I are two sides of the same coin, and no matter all the words we said last night, I'm scared it's all a lie, that you really haven't forgiven me, and that you're itchin' for a chance to throw me out again. Don't lie; I could feel it when you got up. An' I don't blame you. So go ahead an' say it, and let's just get this over and done with."

Dot opens her mouth, shocked by this new revelation, but she rallies just enough to give her beloved older brother a well-deserved piece of her mind. "You're my heart," she snaps, giving Yakko a glare hot enough to melt both polar ice caps. "You ripped it out of me the day you left, and yes, I am still mad at you! I can't do like Wakko and curse and fume at you for a few weeks. The hurt you dealt me is going to take years to undo! It's not going to go away, so yes, I am still on guard, in case you up and leave again! But do you really think I'll ever stop loving you?"

Yakko's jaw drops, but Dot gives him no chance to continue. "Loving you is second nature to me," she says, choking down her sobs. "I love Wakko to the moon and back, and I love him even more after he stepped up to the plate after you left! I can no more stop loving him than I can stop loving you, but loving you is like breathing; if I stopped loving you, I might as well have stopped breathing." 

"Angie," Yakko whispers, the tears streaming freely down his face. He starts to open his arms to her but stops. "I... I'm a fool," he says. "And I've made things worse."

"You have," Dot says bluntly. "But that doesn't mean I hate you; hating you is physically impossible for me. I'm still going to be on my guard. That won't be cured overnight. But I will make you sleep outside if you don't hug me till my bones pop."

It's not a real threat; Dot knows she'd never be able to do that, but Yakko takes it in the spirit it's intended, and hugs her till all her bones pop. He tries to talk, but can't, and settles for crying into her fur, purring like all the motorboats in the world going off at once. Dot, hugging him just as hard, thanks her lucky stars they've managed to get past this most recent painful hurdle, but even as she purrs in return, her own tears soaking Yakko's fur, she knows there are still plenty more painful hurdles to surpass in the future, and some of them are going to be even more painful and harder to surmount than this one. But for now, she's just relieved this hurdle has been passed, and once the first onrush of emotions has settled, she gets herself firmly and comfortably settled in her brother's lap and snags the dropped remote. 

Wakko comes home a few hours later, and, tiptoeing into the tower, smiles when he sees Yakko and Dot snuggled on the couch, watching Game of Thrones. Wakko himself could never quite into it, but Yakko is awestruck by what's on screen, and Dot has a smug smile on her face. Wakko grins to himself; Dot's found herself the perfect Thrones fan to share her latest favourite series with, and the middle Warner ever so quietly trots over to the kitchen, glad for the moment that the dust has settled.  

Chapter Text

"And cut! That's a wrap! Well done, everyone!"

The three soot-stains on the pavement quickly reconstitute themselves into the siblings, all of whom are looking a little ... less than pleased. To be sure, filming for the third season of the reboot was a roaring success, but the success was spoiled midway through filming when word reached the lot that the reboot would not be renewed for any further seasons. Now, as the rest of the cast and crew shake hands and celebrate, the three Warners exit quietly, all of them a bit salty, and getting saltier along the way. 

Words are about to be had. And they will not be very pretty Words. 

Nora sighs as the door bursts open. "I had nothing to do with this," she says, calm in the face of her former employees' anger. "This is as much out of my hands as it is out of yours."

"You coulda fought harder," Yakko accuses.

That bites a little too close to the bone, and Nora glares at him. "If I had," she says evenly, "my job would have been on the line."

"Oh, like your career matters," Dot snaps. "Never mind us! As long as your pockets are lined, who gives a dusty fuck about three puppy-children who've brought joy to millions for many years, both in the 1990s, and most recently in the 2020s? No, go ahead and bitch and moan about your job being on the line when our jobs have come to an abrupt end! Now I wish that meteor really had killed us!" 

Nora winces. "I had no choice," she insists, but her protests fall dully even on her own ears. "I fought as hard as I could to ensure you would be on the air for as long as possible, but the top brass have spoken. Animaniacs is cancelled, and unless they find a very good reason to renew the show for a third time, there is nothing more that can be done for the meantime."

"We're done," Yakko tells his siblings, taking their hands and leading them out of the office. As the door slams shut with the same force with which it first opened, Nora feels sick inside. 

Once back in the tower, Yakko settles on the most effective remedy; holding his siblings in his arms. This doesn't stop him from crying until he runs dry, and by the time their tears run out, they're all feeling hollow inside, as if they've been clubbed inside and out. "What're we gonna do now?" Wakko whispers. 

"Why'd they bring us back if they were just going to bloody cancel us again?" Dot adds.

Yakko has no ready answers for these questions. So he hugs his siblings tighter.

In the days that follow, the siblings avoid Nora like the plague. In fact, they stay away from everyone, not wanting to deal with the outpouring of sympathy that's followed in the abrupt wake of the Animaniacs abupt cancellation. Fans worldwide have expressed their sorrow and outrage, and some have even threatened to write the top brass of Warner Bros. to demand the beloved siblings be brought back to the air. The YouTube tributes are flowing thick and fast, with fans openly sobbing as they film their reactions to the news, and this causes new waves of tears to hit the siblings as they watch all the tributes and read the fans' reactions. Nora is openly reviled for her part, even though it's not really her fault. But her reputation takes a hefty hit in the wake of the bad news, and Wakko admits to feeling a bit bad for her. "She did try her best," he says. 

"It wasn't good enough," Yakko says through gritted teeth. He calms down and ruffles his brother's ears. "I know she tried. But she didn't fight tooth and nail for us. That's what hurts the most. Plotz emailed me the other day saying he'd have never stood for that sort of thing when he was around."

"But last time it was a contract ending, not a fucking cancellation out of nowhere," Dot snaps. 

"Angie, language."

"Oh bite me!"

"Is that an invitation?"

"Shut up, Yakko."

Slappy drops by a few weeks after the dust has settled. "Nora's quit," she announces. Cup of tea in hand, handbag at her side, the old grey squirrel looks as fierce as ever. But she's starting to show her age, reminding the siblings she's even older than them - well over a hundred years old, in fact. This reminds the siblings they themselves are well over 90, and they wonder if their age is a factor in the reboot's cancellation. Slappy dispels this when Dot poses the question to her. "Like hell it's our age," the grey squirrel says crossly. "You three are - once again - too much of a good thing. That's not a bad thing. Heck, even us older oldtimers are still well liked, if those videos Skippy's always shown' to me are any indication. I never did get into all that newfangled tech-no-leg-ee, but it makes the kid happy." She sighs. "Nah, age don't matter squat to us. We can live forever if we want, and not look a day over sixty. And we've all brought joy to a world that's gotten progressively shittier over the years, what with this corona thing, and wars, and other shit that makes me ashamed to live on a planet that supports such trigger happy idiots.

"But the world as a whole loves us. And you three in particular. You bring the laughs and uncover funny bones in people who'd never had a funny bone in their life, till the three of you came along. But someone up the top of the food chain has never liked it. Don't ask me why. Like I said, too much of a good thing. Nora knows it. Plotz knows it. But no matter what they say and do, there's always gonna be some killjoy comin' along and spoilin' the party again."

Dot sighs. "So what do we do now?"

"Nora's quit," Slappy said. "You three could step into her role and get yourselves back on the air. But the top brass would come down on you like a ton of bricks and put you into suspsended animation. Not a pleasant fate, and not one I'd wish on my worst enemy."

"So we're relegated to running around the lot and causing mischief," Yakko says bitterly. "Or we go into children's parties. Or we just wish that meteor really had killed us off for real so we wouldn't be left feelin' like we're at the end of our tethers. Again."

"Dyin's not goin' to help," Slappy says sharply. "You can start by stop feelin' sorry for yourselves. You haven't been put into suspended animation, and you've still got life in the tank. So go run around the lot and cause mischief. Go into children's parties. Do that tick-tocky and snapdragony thing Skippy's always bangin' on about. Keep bringin' your unique brand of humour to the world, and don't let old-timers tell you what you can and can't do." A smile tugs at her lips as she says this last bit, and the siblings share intrigued looks. 

"There is still a world out there," Wakko agrees. 

"Maybe we're not done yet," Yakko says. "I say we go out there and see what kind of hell we can raise this time." His unholy grin is shared by his siblings, and Slappy smirks as she gets another cup of tea. 

Sometimes, the old grey squirrel thinks to herself, a good kick in the ass is enough to get anyone out of their blue funk. God knows I've had to do it plenty of times in the past when Skippy was a kid! But she's glad her verbal smackdown has brought life back to the Warner siblings, and it's not long before they're planning a new round of zany adventures. 

Only this time, the cameras won't be rolling, and aaaaaalll their hijinks were going to be felt in the real world. Slappy had the sneaking suspicion the top brass at Warner Bros. would be hastily regretting their decision to take their three most important assets off the air for a second time in a row! 

Chapter Text

Dot is Bored. Out. Of. Her. Brain. 

And it's not the emptiness of the tower (she's perfectly happy with that, because it gives her a bit of a break from her crazy brothers). Nor is it the illness that's plaguing her (COVID is as unkind to toons as it is to humans, but Dot considers herself lucky she's only suffering a mild case of what could be called bronchitis if it were a normal sickness bugging her).

Rather, it's the sheer emptiness. Not of the tower, but within herself. 

Dot loves her brothers dearly. They drive her batty at the best of times, and downright insane at the worst of times, but she loves them, and she could no more stop loving them than she could stop breathing. But to not have them here by design rather than by choice has dug a huge hole in her, and despite the thrice-daily Zoom calls, they're not the same as warm, furry brothers she can hug, tickle, mallet and drop anvils on at a moment's notice. Loving them comes second nature to her, despite all the hijinks they plauge her with, and she misses them acutely. It would be different if they'd gone on one of their many road trips - Dot loves the chance to have the tower to herself for a few days while her brothers spread their brand of crazy across the globe - but to have them gone from her side because of her unlucky contraction of COVID, forcing them to isolate from her and from each other ... 

It's not fun at all.

Hence why Dot is Bored. Out. Of. Her Brain. 

Toon powers don't work when one is ill, and they all three had their toon powers disabled so they couldn't sneak their way back to each other, but Dot wishes she could teleport to wherever her brothers are so she can hug them till their bones pop, and have them hug her just as tightly. She longs to wake up in the middle of the night to find herself squished between her brothers because they got lonely and wanted to come cuddle with their favourite sister for no other reason than the sole pleasure of having her neatly sandwiched between them in a furry, purring cuddle pile. But more than anything, she just wants them here, with her, where they belong, not sequestered on the other side of the country to prevent COVID getting them to.

But rules are rules, and so Dot frets her way through the long, lonely days, and the equally long lonely nights, counting down the hours till she's cleared. Every hour that passes brings her closer to the day when the tower door opens and her brothers come in and smother her till she feels like suffocating. But that's the kind of suffocation she loves, because it will mean her brothers are back, (hopefully) never to be parted again through such a nasty turn of fate as has been dealt to her. 

"Can't... breathe..."

The day has come, and Dot is squished in a furry, purring cuddle pile that doesn't seem to want to let up. She can't breathe, but Yakko and Wakko are purring fit to burst as they hug and nuzzle her and each other, and Dot decides she can put up with a bit of suffocation. Her brothers are back, and that's all that matters to her. 

Still...

"Seriously... I can't breathe."

The death grip loosens just enough for Dot to gulp in some air, but the cuddle pile still shows no signs of dissolving any time soon. But now Dot can breathe a bit easier (and it's been hinted COVID has left a bit of a mark on her lungs, to the point where she can't be as active as she once was), and she headbutts her ecstactic brothers. "Can ya'll wait till after I get an assessment of the long term affects of this thing before suffocating me?"

"Sorry," her brothers say in unison. "It's just been so darned long since we saw you," Yakko adds, a little petulantly. 

"It was two weeks," Dot says, laughing. "But you're right; it did feel like forever. I had to turn all the clocks to the wall so I wouldn't keep looking at them and reminding myself how long it'd be before I saw you two again." She sighs and burrows deeper into the cuddle pile. "I never want to get COVID again. It's a bitch."

"Language," Yakko chides, before yelping as Dot bites him on the nose. "Jeez, COVID hasn't changed you much, has it, baby sister?"

"Keep that up and I'll show you how much I haven't changed," Dor warns good-naturedly. "Now hush up with the yakking and make with the cuddling."

"We are cuddling," Wakko protests. 

"I don't see any cuddling going on here," Dot says primly. She yelps as the prior death grip returns, but decides that, weakened lungs or no weakened lungs, she's happy to be smothered almost to death. "Terrors, bloody terrors, the pair of you," she mutters, but she's too happy to be truly annoyed. These are her brothers after all.

"We're your terrors," Wakko reminds her, and Dot kisses him on the cheek. 

"I think I can live with that."

Chapter Text

The ballroom is grand and luxurious, filled to the brim with all sorts of people, dressed to the nines, flirting, talking, laughing, and sharing stories. It's a bitterly cold night outside, but inside, it's warm, almost overwhelmingly so, and there's excitement in the air; tonight is the last night of the old year, and everyone's keen to see the back of it. It's been a trying year, and no one has felt it more keenly than Dot, who effortlessly navigates her way through the crowd, sharing jokes and quips with the people she's particularly close to. Making it onto the big screen has opened her world in ways she could never have imagined, but truth be told, as she makes her way to the balcony to get some more fresh air, she's feeling lonely, even surrounded by friends and co-stars, all of whom adore her. 

Her brothers have been nothing but supportive of her from day one, but even they have felt the strain of the year-long separation that ensued after Dot won one of her biggest roles yet - playing the part of a woman who finds love again after losing her previous husband to the 9/11 attacks. Filming had taken up most of the year, and with the constraints imposed ever since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, those constraints had been particuarly galling, what with the social distancing, the mask-wearing, and the isolation whenever one of the cast or crew were unlucky enough to come down with the Virus that Must Not be Named. Dot herself dodged it, thanks to being a toon, but on a whole, COVID has made life harder, and as she stands on the balcony, looking out over the Manhattan skyline, the wind ruffling her fur, she admits she's very glad to see the back of this year. Her film comes out next year, but Dot has already planned to make sure her brothers get to share in some of the glory with her. Neither of them have once expressed bitterness or jealousy, instead heaping her with praise whenever they were able to snatch a moment to have a five minute Zoom call, but Dot knows how much this latest separation has weighed on her brothers, and she smiles to herself as she pictures their reactions when she invites them to the premiere, scheduled for next September, on the 22nd anniversary of the attacks, no less. 

"Dot! Dot! Come quick! They're about to start the countdown!"

She turns and smiles when she sees Helen gesturing to her, but her heart is left feeling sore all over again as she makes her way back into the ballroom. Now more than ever she wishes for her brothers to be there, but she knows they'll be sat on the balcony of the water tower, keen for the midnight fireworks to light Burbank up like the 4th of July a hundred times over. Burbank is three hours behind, meaning she'll be ringing in the New Year ahead of her brothers, and she almost laughs at how offended they'll pretend to be over their baby sister getting to ring in the New Year first. 

"Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one...

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Balloons drop from the ceiling as fireworks explode outside, and Dot is soon caught up in the wave of hugs, kisses, and merriment as 2022 is firmly shown out the door, with 2023 sweeping in triumphantly. She has to dodge more than her fair share of balloons, but the excitement and joy of a new year sweeps her up, and she joins in the hugs and kisses (all given or received on the cheeks, thank you!), feeling her loneliness temporarily disappear. But every hug and kiss reminds her of her brothers, and unbidden tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She hopes the well-wishers mistake them for tears of joy, and no one, thankfully, comments on them. 

The band eventually strikes up a lively tune, and before long, everyone is paired off as they begin their first dance of the new year. Dot demurs, preferring to watch from the sidelines so she can get her unruly emotions under control...

... until she hears a voice addressing her in a unmistakeable Liverpudlian accent. 

"May I have this dance?"

Dot whirls and stares, her eyes going as wide and round as dinner plates. "Wakko?" she says, heart in her throat as she rubs her eyes, just to make sure. When she can see again, her dearest hopes are confirmed; Wakko is there, larger than life, tongue lolling out happily as he bows to her, and Dot can't contain the huge smile, lighting up like a Christmas tree. "You can have all the dances you want, and then some," she says, tears of joy now rolling down her cheeks as she takes her immediate older brother's hand. As he leads her into the crowd, she doesn't even need to ask if Yakko is also present; she can hear the raunchy jokes and hysterical laughter from a mile away. 

"We didn't want to wait three hours," Wakko says in answer to the even bigger smile that lights up his sister's face; he grins back at her as he leads her through a dance that's clumsy, completely uncoordinated, and all Wakko. Dot doesn't care, so happy is she that her brothers have defied the odds to come be with their sister on this night of all nights. "So we convinced Plotzy to bankroll us on a super quick flight over here."

"Meaning you threatened him with rearranging his house again unless he complied," Dot guesses, smirking. 

"Nah, I just threatened to give him a banana cream bath," Wakko says, the glint in his eyes as madcap as her own. "Yakko pulled out the heavy artillery if Plotzy didn't do as he was asked. I've never seen him capitulate so quickly."

Dot rolls her eyes in amusement. Trust Yakko to bring out the big guns to move heaven and earth to ensure he and Wakko could be with her tonight. "You do realise you two could have teleported over here," she says. 

"Nah, it was more fun givin' ol' Plotzy a hard time," Yakko says, cutting in smoothly and handing his current partner  - a pretty blonde girl, no less - to Wakko, who lights up like a Christmas tree before regaling her with his never-ending supply of tall tales. Soon the two are giggling like idiots, and Dot laughs as she turns her attention to her older brother, who is a much better dancer. 

"In other words, you wanted to act out one of Wakko's cheesy New Years movies," she says, laughing again as Yakko gives her a sullen glare - but his eyes are sparkling too brightly for the glare to have any true effect. He boops her on the nose, making her go cross-eyed temporarily.

"You need to stop reading me so well," he chastises good-naturedly. 

"You're my brother," Dot points out, and Yakko's fake anger dissipates as he leans down and gives her a tender kiss on the cheek. 

"Scamp," he says warmly. "Happy new year, baby sister."

Dot stretches up on tiptoe to kiss him back. "Happy new year, big brother," she says. "Now let's go find Wakko before he cozens that poor girl into marrying him."

Yakko laughs. "Nah, let him have his fun," he says. "Besides, he needs to get..."

"Yakko!"

This only serves to make Yakko laugh harder, and Dot decides, as she too gives in to long-overdue mirth, that it's worth the R-rated humour to have her brothers with her again. 

Chapter Text

As the sun rises in Burbank, Wakko is already up and ready for mischief. Dot is still out like a light, so the middle sibling seizes on his next available victim; his older brother. "Can we please go to the park?" he begs, poking, pawing and prodding at Yakko, until the elder sibling groans in frustration and tosses the covers aside. It's not that he doesn't love his brother dearly - and he does - but being woken up before 6am is a Cardinal Sin in Yakko's eyes. Still, the puppy-dog eyes Wakko bestows on him melt his annoyance, and he cracks a half smile as he gives his recalcitrant brother an affectionate ear ruffle. 

"You've twisted my arm," he says, laughing as Wakko yips with excitement, practically falling all over his paws as he bounces, jumps, and skips all over the tower in delight. Yakko thanks the fates Dot is a sound sleeper - he knows Wakko's antics would've gotten him one hell of a malleting. Dot perceives any time before 10am to be Too Early, and Yakko grins to himself as he clambers out of bed, ready to face the day. "We'd best make a quick breakfast before you explode," he adds. "I smell strong cabin fever in the air."

It's another sunny day, warm but not too hot, and Yakko hums as he and his brother walk hand in hand to the park. Plenty of families are out and about, taking advantage of the sunny weather, and Yakko blesses the feel of the warm sun on his fur. Wakko is bouncing with excitement, tongue lolling out happily as he excitedly points out all the sights along the way. Yakko knows these sights by heart, such as the old oak tree that got hit by lighting some seventy years ago, and the old bank that's now been turned into a Starbucks, and the church that now functions as a McDonald's. But as Wakko points these and other interesting sights out, Yakko feels as if he's seeing them for the first time through the eyes of a child. "You oughta make a living as a tour guide," he comments, as they wait to cross one last set of lights before reaching the park. 

"Nah," Wakko says dismissively. "Who's got time for that? 'Sides, those swings are way more interesting."

Yakko laughs and concedes the point. 

The park is filled with families today, but Wakko's bright blue sweater and red cap stand out like a beacon, and once he's installed himself on a bench, Yakko lets his thoughts wander as Wakko, ever the eternal child, runs to the swings. It's not long before the middle sibling has got a good natured contest going of who can swing the highest, and, as he always does when he's around kids, he keeps his toon powers toned down so as not to cheat. Yakko smiles at the sight, but it's a little wistful, and not for the first time, he finds himself wishing he had children of his own. Wakko and Dot, of course, are a handful on their own, and any children would add to the crazy mix in the water tower. But still, Yakko wishes with all his heart for children, even though he knows it's a bit of a foolish wish. After all, why have children when he already had two siblings who looked up to him in all the ways that mattered, and who were already his entire world?

"Dad! Hey, Dad!"

Yakko snaps out of his reverie, frowning, before his gaze finds Wakko, standing before him, once more giving him puppy-dog eyes. "Can you pretty please push me?" the middle sibling asks.

"I can," Yakko says, getting to his feet. "But, uhhhh... did you just call me Dad?"

Wakko blushes redder than his cap as he realises his faux pas. "Sorry," he says. "I was just so excited it sorta slipped out."

Yakko puts an arm around him. "I don't mind," he says, leading his brother back to the swings. As Wakko gets himself seated, the older brother adds, "I was just wonderin' what it'd be like to have kids of my own."

"That's silly," Wakko points out. "You've got me'n Dot - why on earth would you want kids? You'd have to get married, do all that yucky stuff... No thank you! 'Sides, this way, you get to have the kids without the boring stuff. Me'n Dot look up to you as a dad sometimes, and you've raised us ever since we were little. And you've been a better dad to us than anyone else, and that's more'n most."

Yakko is stunned to realise just how important he is in his siblings' lives, and he's equally stunned to realise that he agrees 100% with his brother - why go to all the trouble to have kids when he already had two who looked up to him as both an elder brother than a dad? "Well," he says, smiling as he gives his little brother a heartfelt hug, "then I guess I don't mind the occasional 'Dad'.  And thanks for tellin' me that - I really appreciate it."

Wakko licks him on the cheek. "So push me already, Dad!" he commands, and Yakko laughs as he does just that, relishing in the delighted shrieks as he sends Wakko flying as high as he can - albeit while keeping his own toon powers in check. He's so happy he doesn't even mind being woken up at 6am now - not so long as he can spend some quality time with the little brother whom he feels he can also consider his son in all but name. Idly, he wonders if Dot feels the same way, but he already knows his baby sister would probably tell him the same thing if she were asked. 

The sun is setting as the brothers return to the water tower, where they find Dot perched on the railing, watching the sunset. "There you two are," she says, dropping to the balcony and tapping one paw impatiently. "I was about to send a search party after you." Her swishing tail belies her seeming annoyance, and Yakko chuckles as he hugs her, pressing a kiss to her head. 

"Just spendin' some quality time with my favourite brother," he says, giving Wakko an affectionate noogie, causing the middle sibling to laugh and bat his hands away. Dot grins at the byplay. 

"Then I'll save the mallets for another day," she says, giggling as she takes her brothers by the hand and leads them back into the tower. "Does this involve eating hotdog vendors out of house and home again?" 

Wakko blushes, and Dot laughs even harder. "I'll take that as a yes," she says, before squealing as Yakko scoops them both up in his arms, hugging them close. The hug is not unexpected - Yakko is always doling hugs out - but the tears she can feel soaking her fur are. "Yakko?" she asks. 

Yakko takes a deep breath as he loosens his death grip. "Sorry," he apologises. "Wakko reminded me today of what you two scamps mean to me." He shares a smile with his brother, who grins back at him. "I was wonderin' what it'd be like to have kids of my own, but Wakko reminded me I already did - you two. So I bestow on you the same blessing I bestowed on him - if ever you or he call me Dad, I won't mind. In fact, I'm honoured you two think of me that way."

"You raised us," Dot says, giving him a heartfelt hug in return, and Wakko does likewise. The hug goes on for quite some time, until Wakko's stomach reminds them it's time for dinner, and there's laughs aplenty as Yakko rings up their favourite pizza place to make the usual double-order. Wakko and Dot share a signficant look. 

"I think it might time to do 'the thing'," the middle sibling surmises. 

"I think you might be right," Dot agrees, giving her immediate older brother's hand a squeeze. "We'll go see Scratchy in the morning."

Chapter Text

The year is 1914, and World War 1 is well underway. Men are dying every day, and as the year goes on, with many nations getting involved, it seems as if nothing will stop it. 

Until the day a black and white puppy creature plants himself in the middle of a vicious battle, armed with a small black device, and a strange box beside him. The moment he speaks, his voice booms out of the speaker, broadcasting far and wide, to all corners of the battlefield, and combat is halted, more by the ringing of men's ears than interest in the strange creature. 

"Okay, listen up!" he declares, pinning a stern look on the men nearest him. "This has got to stop! I mean, have you all looked at yourselves in the mirror lately? I mean, what would your poor mothers think? Gettin' yourselves all dirty and grimy and messy and just downright icky! I swear, they'd all have fits if they could see you now!"

Someone shouts something very family-unfriendly in response to this unkind quip, and the puppy creature gasps, eyes going wide. Before anyone has time to react, the foul-mouthed soldier is suddenly having his mouth scrubbed out with soap. He gags and spits, muttering imprecations, but hastily moderates his language before he's assaulted again. 

"Good," the puppy creature says. "Anyone else got something they want to say?"

Having seen what foul language has gotten one man, the rest of the fighting forces wisely keep their mouths shut. "Good," the puppy creature says. "Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted - go home. Why are you all here, fightin' and carryin' on? Haven't you got families at home? I bet they're all wonderin' what's goin' on, prayin' none of y'all have been injured, or killed. I mean, why the hell did all this start in the first place? Why couldn't y'all have sat down and talked your problems out, instead of killin' a guy and causin' half of the world to get pissed off at the other half?"

His words, though simple, are powerful enough to evoke shame, and the men all stare shamefacedly at the ground, so stunned they haven't yet processed the fact that the puppy creature, while speaking English to some, is also somehow speaking in the languages of all the men standing here, weapons hanging at their sides. But all share the same image - their families at home, waiting anxiously for news, and, one by one, each man throws his weapon to the ground. Soon the various commanders are shouting orders, and, bit by bit, the armies return to their respective camps. But the puppy-creature has one more message for them.

"Don't leave your dead here," he tells them. "Bury them. It's the least you can do after shootin' and stabbin' and bombin' the hell out of them. Give them that much dignity, at least."

Propelled once more, the soldiers get to work, and, heedless of the fact that, half an hour ago, they were all trying to kill each other, they get to work, digging graves and burying the dead. Once more, they've yet to notice that they're all comprehensible to one another, despite the language barrier, but it inspires them to share stories of families back home, waiting for their men to return from the front. And so caught up are they in this fence-mending exercise that they don't even notice the strange puppy-creature has disappeared to spread his message to other battlefronts. But, one and all, they thank the strange creature who somehow managed to talk sense into them, even if he was very rude about it. 

The history books don't go into too much detail about how the war ended after just six months, but they agree on one point - a black and white puppy-creature who randomly appeared in the middle of battlefields and talked some sense into the fighting forces, before disappearing just as randomly. And they also agree on how each ruler decided to sit down and talk issues out, rather than resorting to warfare. Some historians conclude that maybe God Himself sent the puppy-creature, or maybe God was the puppy-creature. 

But the world as a whole ends up as a much more peaceful place, and long after those who fought have passed away, their descendants thank the strange puppy-creature who stopped their ancestors from staining the history books red with needlessly-shed blood. 

Chapter Text

Wakko hums as he walks down the street, smiling at the compliments he's getting - today he feels more feminine, so he's wearing his favourite blue glittery skirt and scrunchie - and his tail wags as he approaches the Starbucks on Evergreen. He does get a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach remembering his assault a year ago at this very same spot, but Dot taught the bullies a lesson, and so he pushes the nasty feelings down. 

But they soon resurface when he spies the bulldog toons, and he gasps, before his ears fold back, a low growl building in his throat as he fluffs his fur up and produces a mallet four times his size. "I thought my sister taught you loons a lesson last year," he snarls as he approaches them. "Guess I have to repeat that lesson. Who wants to be the first to start picking up their teeth?"

"Wait," the ringleader cries, putting his hands up defensively. "We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Not yet, and if I have my way, not ever," Wakko says through gritted teeth. "You made my life a misery when you found out I was non-binary. Going to call me a freakshow again and try to find out what's under the skirt?"

One of the younger bulldogs gets between the very angry Wakko and the ringleader. "Stop," he says firmly, and something compels the middle Warner to do just that. Then the younger bulldog's appearance sinks in, and Wakko blinks. "You were wearing a sweater the last time I saw you," he says, cautiously lowering his mallet. 

The young bulldog nods, giving a small smile as he holds out his bright yellow skirt for Wakko to admire. "After your sister ... talked to us, we all went away with our tails between our legs," he says. "We'd been pickin' on LGBITQ+ people for months, and when you came along, we saw you as a target. But some of our parents heard what'd happened, and they gave us all a telling off we still haven't quite recovered from. They made us go see a girl who'd been given a really hard time by her friends after she came out as transgender, and when we saw what'd happened to her..." He breaks off with a shudder, and Wakko doesn't blame him in the slightest.

"I know her," he says. "She nearly took her life after gettin' the stuffin' knocked out of her. Is that what made you change your stances?"

"That and the fact we were told that trans and non-binary folks are just as valid as cisgendered folks," the bulldog ringleader says. He looks ashamed as he adds, "We had no right to give you a hard time. You're just bein' you, just like that girl is bein' her, and like countless other folks around the world are bein' themselves."

Wakko digests this. "I can't forget what you did to me," he says at last, "but I can forgive it. Jus' don' let me catch you backslidin', or you'll have more than jus' my industrial sized mallet to deal with."

A round of handshakes follows, before Wakko gives some fashion advice to the non-binary bulldog. "Yellow doesn't suit your fur colour," he says frankly. "At least, not neon yellow. I think apricot is more your speed. My sister's got some skirts in similiar shades if you wanna come to the tower sometime. An' my name's Wakko."

"I'm Rusty," the non-binary bulldog says, shaking Wakko's proffered hand again. "And... I'd really appreciate that. My family isn't very accepting of my gender expression, and I hate havin' to hide my girly side around them, but my dad's promised to beat me black and blue if he catches me wearin' a skirt under his roof. But at least he can't police what I wear in public."

"Well, if it ever gets too much for you, come on over to the tower any time you want," Wakko says. "My sister will be chuffed to have another mannequin to practice her newest make up skills on. An' that goes for all of you," he adds to the rest of the bulldog gang. "It's gonna be slow goin' before I can fully trust you, but I'm willin' to bury the hatchet if you are."

The ringleader - Scamper - grins. "Jus' as long as you don't bury it in our heads," he says, and in the middle of the laughter that follows, Wakko decides that a round of caramel ribbon crunch frappuccinos is the best way to start the fence-mending process. 

Chapter Text

"Hey, where's the fire?" Yakko quips as he enters Brain and Pinky's house. "Your text was a bit ... urgent."

Brain blushes. "I apologise," he says. "I am not the master of verbiage that you are. I'm more to the point ... and Pinky was peeking over my shoulder and teasing me about a 'secret crush'."

Yakko laughs as he sits cross-legged on the floor. "But you love him anyway," he says.

To his surprise, Brain turns an even deeper shade of red. "I do," he says,

Yakko's eyebrows go up. "I smell gossip," he says gleefully. 

"It's hardly gossip," the brainy mouse replies somewhat stiffly, but he relaxes, remembering how Yakko uses humour as both weapon and a gentle prodding. "Everyone on the lot is aware of my feelings for Pinky, and the one mouse who isn't aware is ... him."

"Have you told him?" Yakko asks.

"I've tried many times in the past," Brain admits. "But I always chicken out at the last moment, because I feel he does not feel the same as I."

Yakko rolls his eyes. "He'd jump in front of a train for you, and I suspect you'd do the same - if you didn't come up with a way to stop the train from hitting either of you. So why on earth would you think he doesn't love you?"

Brain sighs. "I do not know," he says. "It is not a clear cut case as it is with you and your siblings; you can be secure knowing your love for them is returned in full and equal measure. I do not have that luxury. I know he cares tremendously for me, but how can I be sure his love for me runs as deep as mine does for him?"

"Because Pinky, being Pinky, uses humour to hide how he truly feels," Yakko says with a rueful smile. "You've known him long enough by now to know that's his main method of communication, but it doesn't mean he loves you any less. And maybe, deep down, he's as scared of you not loving him the same as you are of him not loving you the same. Whew, that was a mouthful." He gives Brain a gentle prod. "So tell him."

"How?" Brain demands. "It's not like I can come right out and say it. I can't express my feelings with the same freedom that you do. Not when I ..." He stops and mutters something family-unfriendly under his breath, tears filling his eyes. "I might as well call a spade a spade. I want to marry him."

A gasp and something dropping to the floor causes both of them to turn, and Brain's eyes go wide when he sees Pinky standing in the doorway. For once, the lanky mouse's usual goofiness is gone, his eyes huge and dewy as he stares at the companion he's been so faithful to for so long. "You w-want t-to m-m-marry me?" he says, his voice barely more than a squeak. 

Yakko gives Brain another gentle prod. "Go on," he says.

Brain takes a deep breath and walks over to take Pinky's hands in his. And, surprisingly, he actually manages to find the words he wants to say, perhaps because of his talk with Yakko, or more perhaps because Pinky is staring at him like he's the only thing in the world that matters. "I love you, Pinky," he says, surprised to find he can say it so clearly when he had so much trouble even admitting to it five minutes ago. "Will you marry me?"

Pinky lets out a sob and nods, and Brain soon finds himself caught up in the biggest, most passionate kiss of his life. It's quite some time before either of them can let go, and when they do, Brain smiles at the wide, goofy grin on his now fiance's face. "I'll take that as a yes," he says.

"Golly," Pinky says, his goofiness restored as if he hadn't just kissed the living daylights out of his fiance. "I mean, was that kiss not enough? Should I do it again? Say, what's the record for the longest kiss? 'Cause I bet we can be that easily! Yakko, have you got a stopwatch?"

Brain can't help but laugh, because now he knows - Pinky loves him as truly as any mouse has ever loved another mouse, and the goofiness is just a part of his charm. And the goofiness is how Pinky communicates. But Brain now knows that Pinky's goofiness is his own unique way of telling Brain he loves him, and the smaller mouse puts his fingers gently over his fiance's lips. "I'm convinced," he says. "But I am not wearing a dress."

"A dress'll look better on me than it does on you," Pinky agrees. "Ooh! Does this mean I get to wear white? Oh, oh! How about we play 'The Macarena' for our first dance? I am not doing windows, by the way - I'll gladly do all the other household chores, but I refuse to do windows. They're so mean!"

"I will wash all the windows in the world to spare you from that fate," Brain promises, and Yakko sniggers at his slightly put-upon expression. He's got the feeling Brain is going to be in for a very interesting time! 

Chapter Text

As Jurgen is carried into the sea by a rogue whale - much to Wakko's delight, having been disappointed at not seeing a single whale during their whale-watching adventure - Yakko turns to his new extended family. "Sooo, d'you wanna come back with us? It'd be great to have you around, causin' chaos and mischief without havin' to worry about doin' some weird guy's bidding."

Ratto, Saffo and Ditto all look at each other and nod. "This is the only home we've ever known," Saffo says. "But that doesn't mean we can't come over and visit. And now that Brother - I mean, Jurgen - is gone, we're free to be who we really want to be - us."

"Fair enough," Yakko concedes. He can understand where the pseudo-Warners are coming from - he and his siblings have fought long and hard to be accepted on the lot, so he can understand why Saffo and her brothers would choose to stay on the island. "Well, whenever you want to come over, you're more than welcome, and the water tower will always be open to you." 

This triggers another group hug, this time between the Warners and all their counterparts, but while Yakko is happy to see the pseudo-Warners free at last, he's also sad, and Wakko is the first to notice it once the siblings are safe on a ship that just so happened to be passing by. "Why the long face?" he asks his brother.

Yakko sighs. "I can't help but think of how much they suffered, all because a crazy man wanted revenge for the chaos we brought to his brother's life," he says slowly. "He created them as a way to have Warners that would do his every bidding, and you saw what they were like when Jurgen first appeared! They rushed to obey the moment he crooked his finger at them, and if we hadn't talked some sense into them, we'd probably be a bunch of parts, amalgamated into even crazier creations. They've been conditioned from birth to obey his every whim, and even though he's gone, I can't help worryin' about them."

Wakko puts a hand on his shoulder. "I get it," he says. "But I think them stayin' on the island is goin' to be the best thing that happened to them, apart from us showin' up, a'course."

"How so?" Yakko asks.

"You heard Saffo," Wakko says. "Now that Jurgen's gone, they get to be themselves, and I think bein' themselves will be the best cure for all the years of conditionin' he put 'em through. They're goin' to have some tough times, but they've got each other, and I'll wager they're as close as you, me'n Dot are. An' I reckon this'll all pull 'em closer."

Yakko considers this. "You just might be right," he agrees. "But what really upsets me is the fact Jurgen did all this as revenge. He coulda talked to Scratchy, and maybe they could've stayed close. But he didn't, and Ratto, Saffo and Ditto, plus all the other pseudo-Warners, will probably never quite feel like they belong. That's why I wanted them to come back with us - bein' around us and the rest of the folks on the lot might've helped them."

"I think the best thing we can do for them is let them be," Wakko counsels gently. "I get you wanna help them, an' so do I. But the best thing we can do for 'em is to leave 'em be, and let them figure out their own path. They've got each other, and I'm sure that'll be more'n enough to help them get through all the challenges waitin' for them. And if it does get too much, they know they can come any time they want."

"Fair enough," Yakko agrees. But the sadness is still there, and he knows it won't be going away any time soon. Still, he does agree with his younger brother - leaving the pseudo-Warners to their own devices is probably the best thing any of the original Warners can do for them. 

After all, he reminds himself, they've got each other, and they've got the rest of their lives to figure it out.

Chapter Text

"Remind me why we came to New York again?"

"Because you want to support your little sister in making her break onto the big screen?"

"More like you twisted my arm and gave me a double dose of puppy eyes - which is my speciality, by the way, and I ought to add that your puppy eyes are not only a trademark violation, but also ought to be outlawed in all fifty states."

"... Well, when you put it that way, you make me sound unreasonable."

So goes the banter between Dot and Wakko - which is not as mean-spirited as it appears on the surface - as they make their way through the crowds at Grand Central station. It's been a gruelling couple of weeks for the Warner sister as she works to break into film, and Wakko has been steadfastly by her side the whole way, despite the late nights, early mornings, and the fact that it takes Dot at least three cups of coffee before she can communicate in more than just four letter words that start with f and end with ...

"Duck!"

Wakko all but jumps out of his fur. "Duck?" he queries.

Dot points, and Wakko stares in wonder at the cute duck waddling happily along on a lead of all things. The duck's owner is more than happy to explain that little Harry likes being taken for walks, and he's very obedient. Dot and Wakko spend a few happy minutes playing with Harry before it's time for duck and owner to go, and the siblings share a wide grin. "That's easily the cutest thing I've seen today," Wakko says happily. 

"And what does that make me, chopped liver?" Dot protests, hands on hips as she glares playfully at her brother. 

Wakko boops her on the nose. "I hate chopped liver," he says, making a face. "Nope. That makes you my little Dot, and anyone who says otherwise is liable to find themselves with a punched nose and missing teeth."

Dot hugs him fiercely, and Wakko hugs her back just as hard, tears soaking each other's fur as they're once more reminded painfully of another toon who used to say that to Dot all the time - Yakko, dead these last fifteen years after a drunk driver hit him one rainy night. The driver is now in jail for not just vehicular manslaughter, but also failing to stop and render assistance, drunk driving, driving while disqualified, and so on. Dot and Wakko were very relieved when the louse's number came up, but it was a hollow victory, since it didn't bring Yakko back. So, in the years since then, Wakko has done his best to step up to the plate and be a good big brother for his baby sister. He knows he doesn't always get it right, but Dot is more than appreciative of his efforts, and they've grown much closer as a result, with Wakko often calling her "my little Dot" in tribute to Yakko, who seemed to make it into both catchphrase and endearment. 

Life on the lot has never been the same, however, and with small-screen filming losing its allure after Yakko's death, Wakko and Dot opted to retire, until the bright lights of Hollywood attracted the Warner sister - hence their foray to New York today. She's still a long way from her break into film, but today's meeting has gone surprisingly well, and Dot reflects how glad she is that she's one step closer to fulfilling her dream - whilst also sad that Yakko can't be here to see how far she's come. But she has Wakko, and she hugs him tighter before finally letting go, smiling as he gently brushes the last tears from her eyes, just the way Yakko used to do. "Love you, Wak," she says gratefully. 

He licks her on the cheek. "Love you more, baby sister. So, now that you've fuflilled your obligations, are you ready to fulfil the promise you made to your big brother and take him to what you've coined as 'the best diner in the Big Apple'?"

Dot grins and takes his hand. "I thought you'd never ask."

Dot's diner is actually a small affair, tucked in one of the quieter parts of Manhattan, but it's everything Wakko's desired and more, and he lets out a satisfied, window-rattling belch that startles pigeons into flight and sets off a veritable chain reaction of car alarms. Patrons turn and stare, before laughing as Wakko blushes redder than his cap, while Dot rolls on the floor in hysterics. "That's beautiful," she gasps between paroxysms. 

"I'll say. I haven't heard a belch that loud since the Berlin Wall came down."

Dot's laughter cuts off as abruptly as if it were a tap that had been turned off, and Wakko's eyes widen in shock. They turn, and there, sitting in a chair beside them, is the one toon they thought they'd never see this side of the hereafter. "Yakko?" Dot squeaks, moments away from crying again. She has no clue how it happened, but she's not about to argue with fate, not when it seems to have brought her beloved oldest brother back.

That is, until the toon tilts his head to the side. "Yakko?" he says quizzically. "Well, I might've known a Yakko or two in my lifetime ... buuuut that name doesn't ring a bell. I'm Yakov, actually. Pleasure to meet'cha." 

He holds his hand out, but Wakko and Dot can't bring themselves to take it, stunned witless all over again, this time from crushing disappointment and mounting anger. "Yakov?" Dot says, practically spitting out the name. "You have got to be kidding me! You look like Yakko, sound like Yakko, and you've got the same wise-ass humour as Yakko! How the hell can you do this?"

Yakov looks increasingly confused at Dot's tirade. "I'm sorry," he says. "Did I hit a nerve? I mean, I'm always doing that, but usually it's people's funny bones and--"

"Stop," Wakko growls, ears back as he glares at the older toon. "Just. Stop. I don't know how the hell you've done it, but the wisecracks end here. If you're not Yakko, then you'e got no business actin' like him! It's a mockery of his life for you to be walkin' around making the same wisecracks and bein' an all around smartass the way he used to. Just who the hell do you think you are?"

To this, Yakov has no answer, and Wakko grabs Dot's hand, snarling. "We're done," the sole surviving Warner brother says. "If I catch you makin' a mockery of my dead brother again, I'll mallet you so hard you won't even know what happened to you!" It's not an idle threat either; Wakko is about ready to do murder. Dot looks like she's ready to exact revenge then and there, but Wakko leads her out of the diner, leaving shocked patrons and one very stunned toon behind. 

By the time they reach the subway, Dot's calmed down. Somewhat. "I don't know where he gets off," she growls. 

"In the back of a car on a Saturday night?" Wakko quips. Dot glares at him, but she finally cracks a small smirk. 

"I thought that was more your speed," she teases. But her brief moment of humour soon vanishes and she sighs as they make their way through the crowds towards a platform that will take them back to Grand Central, from which they can then get the hell out of Dodge. New York has lost its allure for her, with that utter mockery of a toon haunting her thoughts. "He's got some nerve, dressing and acting like Yakko," she snaps, her temper starting to rise again. "Has he no shame?"

"None," Wakko says, too morose now to crack another one-liner. "I just can't believe it. I thought we were lucky, that Yakko wasn't dead, but it turns out, fate loves kicking us in the ass. And she didn't even buy us dinner first!"

Dot smiles weakly, glad to see her older brother can still crack jokes. As for herself, she feels as if her heart has been torn out of her chest all over again, and as they make their way towards the ticket gates, she vows to find out where this imposter works, and get him run out of town. No one has the right to mock my dead brother! Not even someone who looks and sounds like him! Maybe it's just a coincidence that there are - or were - two toons who acted, dressed, and talked the same, but it's still not right! If I get my hands on him again, I'll make him regret the day he was born!

"Guys! Guys! Wait up!"

Desperate shouts halt the two siblings, and they stare at each other in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me," Dot snarls, whipping out the biggest mallet she can summon. Wakko starts to pull out an anvil, but stops. 

"No," he says. He puts a hand on Dot's arm. "Let's jus' go. He's not worth it, baby sister."

Dot snarls, but lets her mallet go. "You're right," she says. 

"Wait!" 

Once more the desperate voice cries out to them, but too enraged at this fresh affront, Dot and Wakko keep on their course, refusing to be fooled. Even so, there's uncertainty digging at their heels, despite their determination not to let this imposter get under their fur. "Are we doing the right thing?" Dot whispers, as they wait for a train. There's one less than a minute away, and the crowd is now quite thick as everyone jostles for a chance to get on board. Dot can already see the headlights as the train approaches, and though she's determined not to let the Yakko imposter fool them, something is nagging at her, something that makes her ears perk up. Wakko tightens his hold on her hand; he can feel it too. And as the train pulls in, that something makes them step back, heedless of the people rushing past them to get on the train. And as the train pulls out, they hear that voice cry out one more time. 

"Don't leave me!"

The appeal in that last cry is enough to make Dot and Wakko look at each other, and as one, they turn and run back through the crowd. 

Yakov has no idea what spurred him to make a headlong dash after the two toons who looked so much like him, but as he runs through the streets towards the nearest subway station, he prays he's not too late. The years following his accident have left a large hole in his memories, but somehow, he knows the two toons who spurned him so coldly, citing the name Yakko. That name means nothing to him, but as he runs through the streets, dodging people left, right and centre, he knows he has to get to the bottom of the mystery that's been dogging him ever since that fateful moment. 

The station is packed with people, but Yakov dodges and weaves his way around the rush of people, eyes searching the crowd. He thinks he can spy a red cap and a yellow flower hairtie, and he cups his hands around his mouth.

"Guys! Guys! Wait up!"

The girl - what was her name? He can't recall, but he thinks he ought to - turns, summoning a mallet, but her brother - what was his name? - puts a hand on her arm, and she lets the mallet go. They disappear into the crowd, and Yakov swears as he resumes his progress. But now he's lost them completely, and he curses again, tears filling his eyes. 

"Wait!" he shouts, but now he can't see them, and, to his horror, he soon hears a train pulling in. Knowing it's his last chance to catch them before they disappear from his life - why on earth should that make him feel like his heart has been torn in two? - he tries pushing through the mess of people in his way. But he can't make headway, and he feels fresh tears spill down his cheeks as he hears the train pull out, and he slams a fist against a nearby column in frustration and heartbreak, before sinking down to his knees, a scream of pure pain erupting from his throat as he realises what slim chance he might have had at catching the two toons has just slipped from his fingers. 

"Don't leave me!" he screams, knowing it's useless - they're gone, and they probably won't ever want to see him again, and why does that hurt so much?

He's not sure for how long he's on his knees, sobbing and clutching at his ears, tears of helpless rage and pain sliding down his cheeks, but it's not long before he senses a presence, and, looking up, he gasps. "Y-you came back?" he says, hiccuping as he gets slowly to his feet. Sniffling, he wipes the tears from his eyes, but he still feels heartsick. "I-I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know who this Yakko fella is, but I've hurt you, and I feel so darned stupid, and you were right, damnit, and I've been a tool and--"

"Stop," the girl orders. But this time, her voice isn't harsh. Well it is, but not with anger this time. She comes over and gently takes his hand. The boy joins her, and Yakov feels some of the hurt melt away. He's still not sure why he should feel as if he ought to know the two toons, but at least they seem to be willing to give him a chance this time. "Let's go somewhere more private," the girl suggests. 

Yakov nods and lets himself be led away. He's got no clue what's going on, but for now, for the moment, he feels safe. It's an odd feeling, but one that makes him gently squeeze the hands of the two toons on either side of him.

To be continued. 

Chapter Text

"So, it seems there might've been a bit of a misunderstanding," Dot says, as she, Wakko and Yakov sit in the lavish living room of the penthouse apartment the two surviving Warners hired when they arrived in New York a few days ago. Wakko is making full use of the fridge, and Yakov manages a weak smile. 

"We definitely got off on the wrong foot," he admits. "I'm real sorry for that. I didn't mean to cause any trouble, and if there's a way that I can make up for it, I'll do it."

Dot smiles. "I can let it slide, just this once," she says, and this time, Yakov's laugh is genuine. It's shaky, but it's real, and Dot blinks back tears. "Our older brother was killed by a drunk driver fifteen years ago," she says. "Well, that's what Wakko and I thought at first. But we think ... you might be Yakko. You probably don't remember anything, but ..."

Yakov shakes his head. "I wish I could help," he says, "but truth be told, all I remember is wakin' up from a coma and bein' told how lucky I was to have survived bein' hit. Everythin' before that is a blank. But you two do look familiar - and I keep feelin' as if I should remember you, but I don't. That's why I got so scared after you two left the diner so abruptly - I knew it was a pointless exercise, but I felt I hadta go after you so I could try and explain myself."

"Then there is something there," Dot surmises firmly. "Unless you have a twin running around, then I'm convinced. You look and sound too much like Yakko to be a fake, and I know there's got to be memories buried there somewhere."

Yakov sighs. "I appreciate it," he says, "but I don't know what will help get these memories out. Still, I'm willin' to entertain the notion."

Dot squeezes his hand. "I promise, if nothing comes of it, I won't ask you again," she says. "But I'd rather have you here than not, so even if we can't get your memories back, Wakko and I would be more than happy if you moved back into the tower with us, and we can make new memories together."

"Y'know, I think I can see my way clear to that arrangement," Yakov says. 

Wakko wanders over, three glasses of pop in his hand. "To new memories, if the old ones can't be rustled up!" he declares, and Yakov laughs again as he happily joins in the toast. He's not confident about Dot's claim, but he's willing to give it a try. And if nothing comes of it, he's got a home, and a chance to make new memories. It's more than enough to soothe the uncertainty, at least for a little while. 

When they return to Burbank (having decided to fly rather than Greyhound it), Yakov is stunned as he regards the sights and sounds. Something tickles at the back of his brain as they arrive at the Warner Bros. movie lot, but it's not pleasant, and he shivers, his fur fluffing up as he steps out of the taxi. "I don't know if it'll help," he says, "but ... I remember seein' headlights comin' for me. I tried so hard to stop the car, but he was comin' too fast, and the road was too wet. He... he hit me, hard enough to make me black out." 

He shivers and rubs his arms. Of all the things to remember, he wishes that weren't it; Wakko and Dot take his hands, and he squeezes gratefully. "I don't remember anythin' after that," he says. "LIke I said, the first thing was me wakin' up and bein' told how lucky I was."

"It's a start," Dot says, gently tugging at his hand. "C'mon."

Yakov is mesmerised by the water tower interior, and he spends a good ten minutes poking at everything, from the triple bunk that still has pride of place in the south corner (how a round room has corners is anyone's guess, but that's toon logic for you), to the modern appliances; there's a positively outrageously large smart TV set up in front of the luxurious couch, and every device in the kitchen is updated to the latest standards. Yakov is particularly amused when he sees an airfryer on the counter. 

"Got sick of Wakko hogging the oven every morning," Dot explains, and Yakov barks out a short laugh. He can almost see Wakko and Dot arguing over the use of the oven, and he can almost vaguely recall authoritatively breaking up those fights and setting up a roster. "I seem to recall I could never get you two to see eye to eye on the oven," he says slowly. He cracks a grin. "Seems to me you two were bound and determined to run me ragged."

Dot clasps her hands together as she gets him installed on the very comfy couch, and soon she and Wakko are sat at his feet. "What else do you remember?" the Warner sister asks, her eyes huge with appeal.

Yakov frowns. "Bits and pieces," he says. "Fights, filmin', gettin'up way too early and stayin' up way too late." He cracks another grin. "I also remember that it took you three cups of coffee before you could communicate in more than just four letter words that start with f and end with ..."

"Anyway," Dot interrupts primly. She smiles. "It's a start. It's going to be a slow process, but I think it's going to be okay. But... can we call you Yakko again? I know you picked a new name and all, but I liked your old name better."

Yakov - Yakko rather - shrugs. "It can't hurt," he says. "I can't even remember why I picked the name Yakov in the first place, but when I couldn't even recall my own name, they told me to pick a name I'd remember. Yakov seemed the logical choice, buuuut I like Yakko better."

Wakko and Dot share a smile, pleased with the day's progress.

The next day, Wakko and Dot take (what they now firmly believe to be) their anmesiac brother over to Scratchy's. The good doctor is stunned when he sees Yakko walking in the door. "Gott im Himmel," he exclaims. "It is almost like I'm seeing a ghost!"

Yakko frowns. "Didn't you once have a full head of hair?" he says. 

Scratchy blinks, then chuckles. "I did, ja," he says. "But you kidses with your antics drove me crazy until I had no option to tear it out from sheer frustration. It is good you remember that - is there more you are remembering?"

"Bits and pieces," Yakko admits, as he sits on the couch, Wakko and Dot pressed against his sides. He feels warm as he hugs them close - it feels like home to have them cuddled up - and he smiles as their purrs grow louder. "It's still real foggy and all, but I'm startin' to recall things. Like how these two like to jump on me first thing in the mornin', and flip a coin between huggin' the stuffin outta me, or ticklin' me till I can't breathe from laughin'. This morning, they did both." His ribs still hurt from laughing so much, and he has to admit it is a good feeling. 

Scratchy smiles. "I am very pleased that you are recalling more," he says. "How do you feel otherwise?"

"Kinda like I got taken apart and then put together a bit wrong," Yakko says. "But I had a lot of help when I was recoverin', and the physical therapy went well." He taps his head with a chuckle. "I just wish I could get my head put back on straight, but I don't feel like quite as much of a stranger as I did when I first ran into Thing One and Thing Two in New York." He stops, frowns, then smiles. "Those were pet names I seemed to use a lot."

"Apart from our full names when we really crossed the line," Dot says with an arch little grin.

"Hey, if I recall rightly, I seemed to have cause," Yakko points out, grinning back.

"Either that or it was 'Wakkarotti Warner! Just what the hell do you think you're doing?'" Wakko adds, and the siblings dissolve in a fit of helpless giggles. Scratchy leaves them to it, tiptoeing out of the office so as to not disturb them He's sad that Yakko still has holes in his memories, but the good doctor knows that, now he's been reunited with his siblings, those memories will come back. It won't be like the movies, but Scratchy has confidence that the love and care of his siblings will help Yakko regain his sense of self. 

And sometimes, Scratchy tells himself, it's love that often saves the day. Wakko and Dot love their brother to distraction, enough to give Yakko the time he needs to heal, and enough to make new memories should his old memories not return in full. Amnesia is a curse, and Scratchy is angry at the fact that it's hit one of his favourite toons, but he's confident in Wakko and Dot's ability to get around it.

"By the way," he says, sticking his head back in the office, but the rest of what he's about to say dissolves when he sees Yakko telling his siblings "The Story." Scratchy pauses, smiles, and decides to address a few ideas he has another time. If Yakko can recall "The Story" that Dot and Wakko love so much, it's a good sign he's well on the road to recovery, and Scratchy goes back to his rooms with a smile in his heart. I think things will be okay.

Chapter Text

It's been a couple of weeks since Yakko returned from New York, and while he's immensely glad to be in a place that seems so familiar, he's frustrated as well. Try though he might, he just can't get his memories back, and as the days progress, one after the other, he starts to feel like a fake and a fraud again. Wakko disabuses him of that notion rather quick smart, however.

"You might not remember everythin'," the middle sibling says, "but you are our brother. An' if you can't get all your memories back, we'll make new ones. How hard can it be?"

Yakko smiles sadly. "That's a great idea, baby bro," he says, recalling how often he used to call Wakko that in the past. "But none of this feels right," he adds, his smile dying. "I want to be able to recall everything, but I just can't. And I can't help thinkin' that maybe I really am just an imposter."

Wakko gives his hand a squeeze. He wishes there was something he could say to ease his older brother's fears, but even he is out of ideas. 

"This blows," Dot says miserably, staring morosely as her eldest brother sits on the couch, staring at the TV. "How much longer is it going to be before he gives up and decides to go back to New York? We only just got him back - barely - and now it seems we might lose him again, this time for good!"

"I wish I knew," Wakko says, feeling as down in the dumps as he did the day he and Dot found out Yakko had died - at least so everyone had thought at the time. "But unless he's got a long-lost twin runnin' around somewhere, that's our big brother. And we've got to do all we can to help him."

"But Scratchy said letting Yakko recover his memories on his own would be the best thing we could do for him," Dot protests. 

"Yeah, and look where that -bleeping- got us," Wakko grouses, glaring at the censor buzzer Dot didn't quite manage to hide in time. She gives him a sheepish grin, but the humour doesn't last long. "So what the hell do we do now?"

Dot sighs. "Just wait and hope for the best," she says. "That's all we can really do for the moment."

Scratchy, however, has a few ideas of his own, and, three weeks after Yakko's return, he calls the eldest brother to his office. "I know we were hoping and waiting for time to do its work," he says, "but I am thinking the hoping and waiting is not serving us well, ja?"

"Not really," Yakko agrees. "I'm sick of feelin' like a fraud and lettin' the sibs down. It sucks not rememberin' everything, and the little I do remember doesn't seem to be enough!"

"I have taken the liberty of borrowing some old videotapes," the good doctor says, turning on the TV. "You may not be recalling, but  you and your siblings were in a very popular show some years ago. Watching it may help jog at least a few more, shall we say, concrete memories loose. At the worst, it cannot hurt, ja?"

Yakko shrugs. "I'll take anything," he says. 

Yakko frowns as he watches the old Animaniacs episodes Scratchy dug up for him. He can slowly start to feel more memories come back, and at some points, he finds himself howling with laughter at some of the zanier antics he and his siblings got up to in their heyday. 

But it's during Wakko's Wish that it all comes crashing back on him in a wave, and he gasps, eyes going wide as the movie reaches its climatic conclusion, and by the time the credits roll, the tears are streaming unashamedly down his face. "I remember," he says slowly. "I remember!"

Scratchy closes his eyes and thanks God. "What do you remember?" he asks gently, hardly daring to hope that his tactic actually worked. 

Yakko turns to him, eyes wide. "Everything," he says. 

"Then it is best for you to be seeing your siblings," Scratchy suggests, but the words haven't even left his mouth before he sees an empty chair where Yakko sat, and the good doctor chuckles as he turns the TV off, thanking God once more that, against all odds, his hairbrained scheme did the trick where hoping and waiting failed. 

"Go fish!" Dot declares proudly, and Wakko lets out a put upon sigh as he pulls a fishing rod out of his hammerspace once more. Dot's been whipping him soundly ever since they started their game of Go Fish three hours ago, and the middle sibling is very feeling very misused. 

"Slave driver," he grouses, before he lets out a startled yelp, fishing rod clattering to the floor. Dot opens her mouth, but then she too yelps as she's scooped up along with her brother in the hug to end all hugs, courtesy of a very happy Yakko, who proceeds to hug the stuffing out of his siblings, purring all the while. Dot decides this is a very nice hug, but Questions need to be Asked. "What brought all this on?" she demands.

"Shush, sister sibling," Yakko chides, and Dot's eyes widen. For the first time in three weeks he sounds normal, like the Yakko she used to know. Wakko has gone tense beside her as he too works it out.

"You remember?" the middle sibling asks hopefully. 

Yakko nods. "I remember it all," he says, hugging his siblings closer. "Scratchy came up with the bright idea of showing me our old cartoons, and it worked!" 

Dot lets out a long sigh of relief. "Thank Spielberg," she says.

"Okay, less talking, more cuddling," Wakko orders, grinning at both his siblings, tongue lolling out happily.

"Yes sir," Yakko and Dot say in unison, sharing a grin before the Very Important Business of Cuddling commences for real. Dot, personally, has a Lot More Questions to ask, but for now, she's happy to hug the stuffing out of her brothers, who happily return the favour.

Life, for the first time in more than fifteen years, seems to have finally returned to normal.