A/N: Wow… did I ever get that prediction wrong. Within the week, I said. What's it been, a month… maybe more? *Slinks away and hides in corner* Sorry! I could explain a bunch of boring excuses that have nothing to do with my life; or I could just confess that I've put it off to write other fan fictions. I hope this chapter sort of makes up for it, although I'm not very proud of it. It's mostly just a filler chapter to explain how Scratchy, Dot and Wakko get out of the memory… so I don't know how well it turned out. Hope you enjoy it!
"Vhat's happening?" I asked, not afraid to admit my apprehension.
"He was knocked out, remember?" Dot said. "You don't remember much when you're not all there."
"Right..." I glanced once again through the gloom in hopes of seeing something, anything that resembled light. Still nothing. There was something unnerving about the completeness of the silence and the fact that I still couldn't see my hand even if I stuck my fingers in my eye. Not that I'd try it.
"How long vill it last?"
"Not too much longer." Wakko answered. I nodded, and then felt like an idiot for it. They couldn't see me. Another minute passed. I felt like the world was closing in on me as I stood, staring into absolutely nothing. Then, just when I felt I couldn't bear it anymore and might succumb to hyperventilating, a bright flash of white light met my eyes. I wondered if maybe the darkness might have been better.
"Vhat vas that?" I asked.
"I don't know," Wakko said, sounding a little nervous. The streak of white that had been burned into my retinas had hardly begun to fade before another flash invaded the dark. I nearly jumped backwards. It was lightning, and it had struck far too close for my liking. Dot accidentally hit my arm before she found my hand and took it. She was shaking slightly.
"Something's wrong," she whispered. Before I could ask what she meant by that, the darkness that surrounded us began to fade into a slightly less dark blur. The slightly less dark blur focused into a hazy bluish scene. When I finally discerned the various shapes of my surroundings and took note of the trees' movements, I found that we were exactly where we had been before. However, the sky maintained a greyish blue as opposed to the previous blackness. The scorching white lightning continued to barrel towards the ground twice more before ceasing altogether. I spotted Yakko leaning against the familiar tree, beginning to come 'round; he was trying shakily to stand. He leaned heavily on the tree for support, holding his head with his other hand as he took in his surroundings. As he spotted the road, something seemed to click; for his hand dropped to his side and he collapsed to a sitting position in the grass. When he hid his face in his hands, I realized that he had just remembered his siblings were gone. What I hadn't expected was the sheer determination, resolve, and completely unfamiliar malice in his gaze when he looked up. He stood, and started walking.
I took hold of both Dot and Wakko's hands and led them along after him. He was headed in the direction we had last seen the truck take off. I had a hunch that I was going to see something I never thought that I would from the eldest Warner, and it intrigued me to no end. Yet, there was that small grain of doubt nagging at my mind from the farthest depths, telling me that something was terribly, terribly, wrong. Dot and Wakko were acting incredibly strange and uneasy. Hadn't they seen this before? Perhaps... well, perhaps it wasn't the occurrences of the memory that were bothering them. The only time I had seen them had look genuinely worried throughout this whole ordeal, it had been a result of the weather. The weather... it didn't match the memory. The two Warners at my side had told me from the beginning that the weather reflected what Yakko was feeling right now. The lightning, the murky clouds hanging drearily in the blackish sky... what was going on back in the Warner Bros lot?
I stopped walking. Dot and Wakko looked at me quizzically.
"What's wrong, Scratchy?" Dot asked.
"Is there any vay ve can get out of here?" I asked. The more I thought about what could be going on outside this memory, the more worried I got; taking into account what I had seen so far of the Warner's past. Perhaps I was being silly, worrying to this extent about it when for all I knew, Yakko could be fast asleep in my desk chair. Maybe he was just having a nightmare? There was this little voice in the back of my head, though, that continued to tell me that something was off.
"Not that we know of," Dot answered.
"Have we ever tried?" Wakko returned. I got the feeling he was just as anxious as I was.
"No..." Dot considered this for a moment. "We could always ask..."
"Ask who?" Wakko inquired. Then he caught his sister's drift and nodded. Dot looked up to the sky.
"Will you let us out?" She asked loudly. Nothing happened.
"Dot," I said. "I don't think that's going to vork." It seemed a little far-fetched, even for a cartoon. She shushed me. I still didn't see the logic in this method, but I obliged and made no further comment.
"It was the wrong question," she said simply. Then she looked up again.
"Are you going to let us out, or what!" she practically yelled. I almost smiled.
"You should be more polite," Wakko stated with mock authority as he stood beside his sister. He looked up.
"Would you be so kind as to please let us out?" He asked as nicely as he could. I wasn't expecting anything to happen, but I couldn't say that I was surprised when the air in front of us began to shift. Perhaps I was getting used to these cartoon miracles after all.
The very same panel that I had seen before opened up to reveal the calm quiet of my office. I looked back over my shoulder as I stepped through, catching one last glance of the memory Yakko as he walked down the road. Where he was headed, I had no idea. My curiosity burned, but this new feeling of concern seemed to be more important at the moment. I tried to set my mind at ease with the hope that my Yakko – the one from the present – was still in my office where he was safe.
My office was dark, not a movement to note. Wakko and Dot followed me through the panel a moment later, looking around. It all seemed relatively normal, until I spotted a bright crystalline gleam on the floor near the window. When I stepped closer, I realized that it was the window itself; well, shattered bits of it anyway. Careful not to step on the glass, I peered out into the night. The moonlight shone on the innumerable pieces of shattered window that lay on the ground. There was much more of a mess of it outside, which indicated that it had been broken from within. My stomach somersaulted. What in the world happened?
I rushed Dot and Wakko outside, and took a look at the shattered window from another perspective. It gave me no further clues when I looked inside the building, but I did find my paperweight broken on the cement. In a sort of daze, I took it back inside and set it on the desk. It seemed like such a normal thing to do under the circumstances, even though I knew it wasn't. Dot and Wakko remained silent as they watched me scan the desk absentmindedly. I could practically feel their worry in the air of the room itself.
"Go see if he's in the vater tower," I said. It would give them some ease to think that they were doing something to help, even though all three of us knew Yakko was gone. But where? Wakko dashed from the room and Dot followed. The minute they were gone, I looked over the room once more for anything else I could use, but I eventually came back to the desk and picked up the paperweight again to inspect it. It was quite a clean break, right down the middle. I held the pieces up and attempted to match them together. But then something caught my eye that nearly made me drop them. Between the two halves obscuring my vision was a simple, handwritten note. A far too easily overlooked simple, handwritten note. I nearly tore it in my eagerness as I snatched it up. Two simple words were inscribed on it. Two very innocent, terrible, heart-wrenching words that formed a name I had only just learned. Brad Hart.
A/N: Reviews are always welcome!