Chapter Text
Yakko and Wakko had stood side by side, gazing out at the vast expanse of Acme Falls. The setting sun was casting a melancholic glow over the town they had once known as children.
It had been years since Dot's passing, but the pain lingered, seeping into every corner of their lives. Yakko and Wakko had grown into young adults, The once-lively Warner Brothers was now a somber topic of their old “home.”
The brothers would never think of it that way ever again. It wasn’t a home, it was a dungeon, its halls echoing with memories that seemed to haunt the brothers at every turn.
Yakko is now in his early twenties. Heavy sighs and tears seemed to be far more prevalent these days. He hid beneath a facade of strength, doubling down on his humor and antics. He’d perfected his poker face.
His eyes.
His eyes betrayed the sorrow that weighed on his soul- dark, shifty, glassy eyes of a boy he once was- still was. He was a boy.
“No, no,” He’d say to neighboring kids, “Not Mr. Warner. Yakko. Just Yakko.”
He was the same, trembling teen he had been the cruel winter day Dot and his heart had been ripped away. Shreds and shards of memories tainted by her, him, his failure.
He really was just a boy.
Yakko and Wakko did their best to carry on, each in their own way. Yakko threw himself into work- the very same town Wakko had made his fist ha’ penny in- accounting was an absolute drag.
The boys tried to keep the Warner Brothers’ legacy alive, once. Tell Acme Falls “hey, it’s still us. We still are the same orphans you know and tolerate,” reiterating and amplifying their pranks, elaborate, meticulous.
But they knew it wasn’t the same. The spark that had fueled their creativity had dimmed, and even the most brilliant ideas felt hollow without Dot's unique perspective- her girlish flair and passion absent, a void- being ordinary, it seemed, for the Warner’s was deemed the highest sin. At least according to the universe. There was no normal- their definition. There was insanity, there was heartbreak. They were together, but miles and miles apart.
There was a void nothing of their old life could fill.
They would have to move on.
Wakko struggled to find joy in anything. The sound of his drumsticks hitting the skins of his drums used to bring him solace, but now it only echoed with a melancholic rhythm. He longed for the days when they would create music together, rhythm and tune harmonizing with sweet soprano.
The passing of time only seemed to deepen their sorrow. Birthdays and holidays became painful reminders of Dot's absence. The laughter that once filled their home was replaced by silence, broken only by the occasional stifled sob.
Their once close bond began to strain under the weight of their grief. Yakko's attempts to be strong and stoic left him emotionally distant, unable to connect with Wakko on a deeper level. Wakko was desperate for the connection they once shared, and felt abandoned and lost in a sea of sorrow- why couldn’t he fix it?
Was it his fault? Yakko rarely spoke to him. Dot was dead.
It had to be him.
“Yakko…? Wakko questioned his brother tentatively, barely cracking the door open. He was met with the sight of his brother hunched over in silence, his gaze completely fixed on a worn photograph of their younger selves. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Wakko approached slowly, taking a seat beside him. The weight of their shared grief hung heavy in the air, suffocating his words, feeling any disturbance to the tranquil moment was almost like shattering a delicate glass bowl.
He held his breath.
An eternity passed, disturbed not by Wakko, but the eldest.
A sigh. “Where did I go wrong…?”
A realization. They’re thinking the same thing, Wakko saw now.
Wakko mustered the courage to speak, his voice trembling with the pain he had carried for far too long. "Yakko, I... I can't help but blame myself. I keep thinking that if I had been there for Dot more, maybe she wouldn't have... she wouldn't have left us." Yakko startles- a shiver down his spine, his eyes releasing the captive tears mirroring the pain that consumed his Wakko.
He reached out a trembling hand and gently squeezed Wakko's, a feeble attempt to offer some comfort. "Wakko…”
He listened attentive.
“…I-It’s not… It’s mine… I’m supposed to be big brother, the organized one who keeps the other two in check… I couldn’t even keep myself in check.” He buries himself deeper into his palms.
Wakko's voice cracked as he choked back tears iun horror of what he just heard.
"But it's not your fault, Yakko. You- we loved her, we both did. We did everything we could, but life... life can be cruel, and it took her-” His voice begins to waver, his lower lip quivers with sorrow.
He couldn’t bear say the word. A euphemism would have to suffice.
“-away from us." He grits his teeth and forces his sobs down once more, uncertain of stability.
Yakko nodded solemnly, quivering. His eyes locked with Wakko's, gaze softening as he looked at his brother. Yakko bit his lip and clenched his teeth.
Without a second’s thought or warning, he swung his arms around Wakko, more than ready to reciprocate the notion.
And they cried.
And cried.
And cried.
Tears became sniffles. When they could cry no more, the surrendered themselves to their dark circles and the weight of sorrow, pulling on theiri eye bags.
When there woke up, a sunset.
Their bond is unbreakable even in the face of tragedy.
They would remember that now.
At that moment, Yakko and Wakko’ subconscious made a silent pact.
No more sulking.
For the first time in ten years, the Warner Brother would live. Atleast for the sake of eachother,
(XxX)
One evening, as the sun set over the Acme Falls’s cemetery, Yakko and Wakko found themselves standing in front of Dot's grave. The cold wind carried their whimpering whispers into the air, carrying the weight of their unspoken regrets and unshed tears.
“Hi… Dot. It’s been a while. I’m sorry. But your going to love the reason.”
Yakko and Wakko faced eachother, again blinking back tears.
“We’re children’s entertainers. We… have a charity in your name. It’s called the Wishing Star foundation.” Yakko grimaced a little as he said the chareities name. “Don’t look at me, he’s your brother who came up with it.”
A chuckle from Wakko.
“We’re in a band, almost.”
And they smiled.