Chapter Text
ROAD RUNNER
In the midst of what was usually a quiet desert interspersed with a few cactuses and tumbleweeds, a blue streak crashed down the only road for miles with enough force to leave the occasional crack where his feet usually barely touched the ground as they passed. A week’s absence from Wile E. Coyote was unheard of. A day or two sure, maybe even three or four when he was planning something big or recovering from an unusually flamboyant explosion, but a week? That never happened, and Road Runner was starting to become very concerned. He stopped momentarily and surveyed his surroundings, listening to the world around him and hoping to hear anything that marked the beginning of another scheme to put him on his predator’s plate. To his growing dismay, he was met with only the sound of the wind, so he took off again. Ever since the ACME trial, things had…maybe not changed but… perhaps shifted between the two former rivals turned tentative friends.
The teary look on the face of his nemesis when he realized that the bird had come to not only to defend him in court but to summon him home had been permanently etched into his brain: a pivotal moment in their understanding of each other. Honestly though, what did the Coyote expect? It certainly wasn’t his fault that the self proclaimed ‘super genius’ never noticed that the intent to inflict harm was entirely one-sided and always had been. It’s not like he was incapable of fighting back. The “conflict” with ACME when they attempted to capture him demonstrated that to the world. He had even appeared at the trial knowing very well that it was yet another attempt to capture him, and had been a bit surprised to find not only a trap but a teary eyed coyote as well. He still remembered the exhilaration he felt when he ran down that road to find the canine back in the desert. They were each other’s daily companions since they were in diapers, and he had felt his absence keenly while he had been busy preparing a case against ACME, first in Albuquerque and later in DC. Road Runner now knew in the very core of himself that they would continue to orbit each other in their perpetual game of chase for the rest of their existence and was thrilled at the very idea. Or, at least he had been sure of that until all of a sudden he had found himself alone in the desert, yet again.
He knew he should’ve found himself relieved, in theory, that he was no longer in danger of becoming breakfast, lunch, or dinner, (depending on the time of day). Yet, faced with the possibility of playing their game alone, he only felt a sense of dread. He sped up, pushing himself along the already thin blade that was the laws of physics as they applied for cartoons, knowing that the road behind him was coming up off the desert floor to a dangerous degree and curling up behind him again. After his tenth hour combing the area where he knew his absentee pursuer’s cave to be located, he let out one more ‘Beep Beep’ which ultimately translated to where the fuck are you asshole in his mind, at full volume and paused. He took a brief moment in his frustration to be pleased that, despite the logic of his own world censoring any four letter words that left a cartoon’s mouth or pen, he still had the freedom to use whatever filthy language he wanted to express himself within the confines of his own mind. Truly, over the years of running he had built up quite the repertoire of colorful taunts and insults, none of which he could ever use, of course.
After a few moments, in which he flicked his tail and waited as patiently as he could for a creature that was designed to keep moving, he accepted that he had concluded yet another day without needing to evade a single trap, scheme, or attempt on his life. Maybe I finally humiliated him enough that he’s just planning something interesting just for me? he thought, in an attempt to cajole himself in his solitude. While the thought made him blush a bit for reasons he was still a bit unclear on, he immediately knew it wasn’t true. The conclusion of their previous encounter had been relatively mild in terms of injury: a simple fall off a cliff resulting in yet another coyote shaped hole with a dust cloud lingering above it. His predator had gotten more efficient since he ceased using ACME products, but he still had a ways to go before he truly stood a chance of catching him. Nothing that had happened recently required more than a day or two off by cartoon standards for either recovery or planning. He thought it unlikely that he had succeeded in provoking that feather-raising smirk that he always saw when the coyote was planning something particularly nasty.
It was completely unbearable. While it may not be immediately obvious to those around him from his perpetual smile and ongoing interest in blowing raspberries at an increasingly frustrated coyote, Road Runner himself was aware that his intelligence was on ultimately par if not superior than that of his rival. It had to be, he thought, for them to have continued their routine for so long. Faced with the ongoing absence of meaningful action within his day, he found himself growing bored and frustrated. As the sun began to set around him, he considered the possibilities for why he is now without his constant shadow.
Suddenly, he found himself frozen solid as he is hit with a memory of when he last found himself incapable of catching the attention of his pursuer. Maybe, he thinks, another female coyote has caught his attention again? The thought makes his blood run cold. The last time Wile E. had diverted his attention elsewhere was the first time the blue bird had truly considered if he had any interest in interacting with him socially, beyond teasing him for fun, of course. Similarly to now, years ago he had found himself with an unusually long reprieve from the antics of his daily life, and had sought out the cause ultimately to find his nemesis with literal hearts in his eyes chasing down a mangy waste of fur. He still remembered how surprised he had felt when the wave of rage and something else ugly had swept over him, and he acted before he truly considered why he felt so motivated to do so. While his plan to re-assert his rightful role as the most interesting thing to chase had initially failed due to what he now knew were intentionally faulty ACME products, he had evaded both his own doom and the union of his rival and his usurper by evading becoming a courtship gift. Nevertheless, the experience still left its mark: where he previously thought he would love to never see the business end of an ACME product again, he found himself shocked that the previously unnamed nasty feeling was in fact, jealousy he felt at losing the attention of his sleepy eyed rival.
He pushed all of those feelings to the side and considered his options: given that he had decided that waiting was intolerable and already concluded that this simply could not continue any longer, he realized that he had to step outside of their usual game and take some kind of action. Of course, he was just making sure that his friend hadn't gotten into another faulty ACME product and blew himself to bits where he couldn’t laugh at him, he thought to himself, and made the decision to finally check in on the Coyote’s home. While he could check the workshop, he knew that the coyote had been clearing it out of ACME products, and that he preferred to spend less time there recently than his own home. Before he could think too hard on the implications of this choice, he turned and took off again.
The sun had yet to move much further down the horizon by the time he reached the cave opening which served as a door for his predator’s domicile. ‘Of course he can think of fifty million different ways to kill and eat me, but never installed a doorbell’ he thought a bit manically before tapping his beak on the smattering of planks that made up some sort of door. He considered running off immediately, on the off chance that announcing his presence might set off some kind of trap, but when none became immediately apparent he settled down a bit and listened for any hint of noise inside.
He tapped a bit harder and was surprised to find the door swinging open by itself. He worried quietly to himself, taking in the absence of both ACME products and scruffy coyotes from the entrance as he poked his long neck through the door. Hearing nothing, he took a few tentative steps further in and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the cave, he saw sprawled across the room what looked to be an explosion of parts and tools. In his brief previous visits to this place, usually to wake Wile E. up in a way that made him jump so hard he splattered himself across the ceiling, he found the room to be messy but never to this degree. As he took in the chaos even more closely, he saw past the usual mess of roadrunner cookbooks on the tables and rolled up blueprints on the chairs and realized that most of the clutter was centered around one device pushed up against the far wall. The machine was more complicated than what he usually created, and looked like a closed white door hooked up to a comically large battery.
Unusually enough, it was a combination of both cartoon and human technology. An empty can of black cartoon paint sat next to it, and there were faint scorch marks around it.The switch attached to it was flipped down to indicate that it, at some point, had been powered on before breaking. He looked closely at it, but without more information decided it best to leave it be for now. If Wile. E’s creations hurt him when he knew what they were doing, an unsuspecting set of wings would be doomed from the start.
On the other side of the room he saw a large cage, spanning a few feet in each direction with what looked like a closed matching trap door inside of it. He assumed that the cage had been built to house him while the rest of the road runner stew would be cooked, and though he had no intention of spending any time in it, he was secretly a bit pleased that it had been built with enough space for him to walk around at least. He had no clue about that trap door though, and most confusingly, the door to the cage itself was wide open.
In the very back of the cave on the floor was a bed surrounded by rocks and covered in soft blankets, as well as one larger rock that seemingly served as some sort of table. On it he saw a photo of an older coyote, possibly the father of the coyote he came to find. It was a solitary photo, instead of a family one, making him wonder if there was anyone else his coyote called family. The other item on the table, however, made him tilt his head and flick his tail back and forth curiously. Next to the framed photo lay one of the prettier feathers he had left behind for the coyote to find in his midst when he ran. He had left him a tail feather as an apology after a particularly nasty incident involving dynamite, horseshoes, a train car, and some cacti. There was no mistaking it for anyone else’s, he would definitely notice another bird running around their desert. He had begun to leave more of them since the ACME trial. He wasn’t sure why, but he just felt it was the right thing to do. He was glad Wile E. was back with him, and he wanted to reward his choice somehow, even if he wasn’t sure how much the friendly gesture was appreciated.
Amongst his kind, doing such a thing would be almost considered a courting gift, but considering that he doubted that his coyote knew that, he saw no harm in the gesture. He smiled a bit looking down at the feather as he realized it was, in fact, appreciated. He made a note to leave as many as he could without making himself look patchy. He wasn’t a vain creature, but he had no need to pluck himself nude. As he looked back towards the machine in the corner, he considered his options for how to proceed. It seemed as though the wiry canine had just disappeared without a trace or warning. Maybe he just missed him, and he would return to the cave later. After all, he thought with a slight pang of jealousy, he may be spending some time with Kevin and Paige. Suddenly, he realized that he had been searching all wrong. First stop first, though, he thought as he took off towards Kevin and Paige’s offices.
Unfortunately, Kevin and Paige weren’t able to be helpful to him. While they were grateful that he had ultimately shown up at the trial, they were both incredibly busy with all of the new business that the firm was getting. After the arrests of Foghorn and Buddy, their firm had been gathering clients at a frankly alarming rate. As a cartoon passed by them holding an ACME propeller hat that had begun to fly him away at unsafe speeds to unsafe heights, he caught up to them as they rushed to their next meetings and pushed them into a corner together so that he could face them both at once. Time was of the essence after all, and he wasn’t interested in having this conversation twice. When he knew he had their attention in the crowded room, he tilted his head showed them a sign saying “Have you seen Wile E.?” Though they exchanged a glance, they both shook their heads.
“We assumed he was with you, you both looked so...happy? I guess? When you ran off into the desert together last time I saw you I thought that meant you two were back doing your thing.” said Kevin. Road Runner shook his head, slightly alarmed that they hadn’t seen him since then.
“Can we help you look for…” started Paige, but before she was able to finish her question, the blue streak had already blown through the doors and into the street to continue his search. He soon found himself in front of a sunny yellow house with a warm brown roof where he knew a certain bird, former researcher, and sweet but cunning old lady now lived in blissful joy together. He used his beak to tap urgently on the window next to the bird cage, hoping that he would open the blinds. Though he knew that the smaller bird’s life had probably just gotten back to normal after the ACME incident, he was hoping that maybe he could ask Tweety if he had heard of any plans at all from anyone in ACME before he left. Unfortunately for him, this proved to be a dead end too. Tweety startled when he opened the blinds, perhaps expecting some retaliation for that incident in the desert. When all he found was a road runner with a slight but deceptively goofy grin, he began to relax a little bit and opened the window.
Taking this as an invitation to chat, he leaned into the open window and began to take out the sign he had written for Kevin and Paige, but as he leaned into the window next to Tweety’s cage, he was immediately greeted by a familiar high pitched voice. “Oh don’t even think about using those signs” it chirped at him “I know you can use morse, and I can understand it, they had me learn it at ACME, just beep out what you want to say”. “.... .- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- / ... . . -. / .-- .. .-.. . / . ..--.. (Have you seen Wile E?)” the larger bird beeped out.
“No, and I don’t have any intention of bothering him, either” replied Tweety “I don’t think he wants to see me after all I did to everyone, and I don’t blame him either”.
Looking concerned, the larger bird began to beep: “.. - / .-- .- ... -. .----. - / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ..-. .- ..- .-.. - --..-- / .-- . / -.- -. --- .-- / - .... .- - (It wasn't your fault, we know that)” beeped Road Runner in response, thinking of all the time lost by the little family. “-... ..- - / .. / -. . . -.. / .... . .-.. .--. / ..-. .. -. -.. .. -. --. / .... .. -- (But I need help finding him.)”
“How? I haven’t seen him, and I’m not looking either” exclaimed Tweety, “I’m not fast enough to not become dinner, and I think your friend might take it personally that I tried to take his job of turning you into a blue smear across the desert”. The blue bird was unsure if he heard something funny in how Tweety said friend, but he was starting to become increasingly frantic with every dead end, and it was definitely starting to show.
“Do you think something happened to him?” asked Tweety, now seemingly starting to realize the gravity of the concern of the bird in front of him. This prompted Road Runner to, somewhat frantically, beep out the entire story. He started with how his former nemesis had been missing for a week, and the strange device in his house covered in scorch marks, and concluded with how Coyote’s new friends hadn’t seen him either. Nonetheless at the end of it Tweety seemed to understand why he was so worried. “I’ll ask any other cartoons I see if they’ve seen anything, okay?” he said, more sympathetically than the conversation had begun. The blue bird nodded, and before either of them could say anything more, Beeped twice in thanks, closed the window and ran off back to the desert to continue searching.