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It only occurred to Kevin after the trial that he didn't know when it was that Wile E. slept.
A part of him knew he must. At some point, right? His manic energy and endless drive had to come from somewhere, and just by looking at his thin, scraggly frame it certainly couldn't be his diet.
But Wile E. had spent his days by Kevin's side, supervising the case and really just generally bothering him with his restlessness, and then went on to make all sorts of racket well into the night working on his contraptions.
And still, somehow, he was always early to rise. Kevin hadn't realized how odd that was until now.
It only came to mind when Paige whispered an enamored “Oh my gosh, Kevin, look!” in the back seat of the ride share they booked for the last leg of their trip back to Albuquerque.
At some point, after all the stress and fuss and excitement, Wile E. had curled up into himself and nestled his head with his chin propped on Kevin's lap for a much-needed rest—so slowly, and quietly that Kevin hadn’t even felt him lay his head down. Wile E’s red-rimmed eyes were peacefully shut, and some of the harsh lines of his face smoothed out as he dreamt some pleasant, faraway dream.
Paige reached forward, intending to scratch Wile E. between the ears.
“Oh, no, don't do that,” Kevin said, gently redirecting Paige's hand back towards her.
Paige rolled her eyes. “What, worried I'll wake him up and ruin your peace and quiet?” She frowned.
“No,” Kevin answered quickly, even though on the inside that was a part of it. “It's just… I don’t want to bother him. It’s good to see he does sleep. Sometimes.” He smiled down at Wile E, whose nose and toes twitched eagerly.
“You can say that again,” Paige agreed, stifling a yawn of her own, “He must be do worn out.”
Kevin was about to answer, but stopped short with his mouth open as Wile E. sleepily chattered—a sequence of rough, quiet, high-pitched yips that didn't seem at all like the sounds the likes of him could make.
“Stop,” Paige grinned, “Is it bad of me to say he's cute?”
Wile E’s yips sounded young and pitiful, hardly a match to the dignified way he held his head high even in the face of certain failure, or the precision with which he chose the words for his signs.
Kevin chuckled softly. “I don't know,” he said with a shrug, “But I have to agree.”
What was considerably less cute though was the puddle of drool the coyote was leaving on Kevin's pants. Oh well. That wasn't the worst thing that had happened to his clothes in the last day.
Their peace was disturbed at the next red light, when the driver behind them honked a shrill beep-beep because they didn't move three milliseconds before the light changed from red to green.
The sound roused Wile E. from his slumber, his relaxed form bristling and stiffening up to sit ramrod straight. He licked over his teeth with a loud snap as his eyes darted from one window to another.
“Whoa, easy big fella,” Paige held out both hands as Wile E's eyes focused, “We're still in the car.” She set a hand on his shoulder and guided him to settle back on the seat in between them. “It's okay. We’re okay.”
Wile E. nodded and reached down to paw half-heartedly by their feet at the floor.
“No need for that,” Kevin said, “I know, are we there yet—right?” That was the sign Wile E. already held up multiple times, always to the same answer. “It's going to be a little while longer, I'm sorry—I'm just as over it as you are.”
“You can go back to sleep,” Paige promised, “You must be exhausted.”
Wile E. nodded. He stretched, tugged on Kevin's sleeve, and guided his hand to rest on his back before curling up into the position he had been in before.
“Um?” Kevin stilled his movements, palm awkwardly splayed between Wile E's shoulder blades. “Do you want me to…?”
Wile E. closed his eyes, and pretended to snore.
“He wants you to pet him,” Paige observed, finding it obvious. Once the words were said out loud, steam started to pour from Wile E’s ears and his muzzle glowed a warm red.
“Why…?” Kevin wasn't sure how to feel about that. His hand remained still against Wile E's wiry cartoon fur. “You're not a dog.”
Wile E’s ears drooped forward to hide his face, and he continued his fake snoring.
Paige shrugged. “Maybe it's comfortable,” she said, and she braved reaching forward to ruffle the top of Wile E's head. His fur was coarse and warm, almost staticky to the touch.
Wile E. flinched and pinned his ears back at first, but soon relaxed as Paige neither removed her hand or pet him more aggressively.
“Besides,” her lips pulled into a bittersweet grimace, and she dropped the teasing lilt from her words, “I'm sure even a tough cookie like you needs something kind, to balance out all those horrible things you had to hear.” She kept petting him with a gentle and confident touch.
Wile E headbutted Paige's fingertips, and nuzzled wherever his snout could touch her as his ears curled into the shape of a heart for a few frames.
“Okay, guys, this. Has to be some kind of… Overstepping. Of the client-attorney relationship, right?” Kevin mused, solidly patting Wile E's mid-back exactly four times before retreating from the display.
Wile E. sat up again, this time to fully change positions. He shot Kevin a disappointed, displeased look over his shoulder before settling down with his head in Paige’s lap instead.
“Poor little guy,” Paige cooed, fully playing along with the coyote’s dramatics, “So, so tired, huh?”
Wile E. nodded, looking at her with his brows drawn up together to look especially sad.
“So hard done by,” she continued, every statement met with a nod, “The world is so cruel…”
Kevin could only roll his eyes, which Paige didn’t miss.
“What, after everything we've been through we’re supposed to stay just counsel and attorney and client to each other?” She scoffed, carding her fingers through the fur down the coyote’s neck and over his shoulders.
Wile E. flipped over onto his back and drew up a sign one-handed, holding it for Kevin as he fluttered wet lashes over tearful eyes. “I see how it is.”
He sniffled for good measure.
And dammit it worked.
“Alright, alright…” Kevin sighed, lips easing into a wry smile. “If you insist, and it gets you to stop making that sad little face…”
Wile E. nodded, setting his sign back down.
And though he clearly saw Kevin reach his hand out towards him, Wile E. again tensed and drew in a sharp breath when he made contact. The coyote teared up, but this time instead of making any kind of playful display his ears curled down in front of his eyes—an uncontrollable reflex in time with his chest tightening.
“It's okay,” Kevin said, his voice soft. He didn't know where he had found that kind of gentleness in himself. “You're okay.”
Wile E. nodded slowly, large, wild eyes studying the uncertain, shapeless patterns being drawn over his chest.
The intensity made Kevin look away—of course he had expected it to hurt. He focused just on the mechanics of ruffling Wile E's fur and trying to soothe the sore spot he had clearly just touched.
But the ache only seemed to deepen, especially as Paige joined back in; Wile E. shivered when her thumb carefully brushed under his eye.
“Hey, you know, it's fine if you want us to stop,” she said, cupping his cheek. “You can tell us.”
Wile E. quickly shook his head, eyes screwing shut as his hands gestured unhelpfully. His pre-prepared sign at their feet sat blank.
“No words?” Kevin offered.
Wile E. grumbled and shook his head. His hands continued to dart around in vague half-formed explanations, externalizing how difficult it was to wade through whatever thoughts and feelings were drawn out of his trembling form.
He wanted to tell them.
A literal light bulb clicked on above his head.
He pointed up with an ear, making sure to get Paige and Kevin's attention as his mind flipped itself inside out and painted the space around them. They were short and soundless, all fading hazily into each other like moments captured on reused, expired film.
A large satellite cutting through a wide sea of stars. Ruddy brown cliffsides as seen from the lowest point, deep in a dark chasm. Fluffy yucca blossoms dancing in place of clouds across a clear blue sky. The dark downpour of a summer monsoon. A single truck on a winding desert road, viewed this time from an impossibly high point. A lone sand sagebrush bush forcing its way through a widening crack in the dusty red ground.
Paige rubbed at her eyes as she tried to make literal sense of the images. “Your home?”
Wile E. nodded uneasily.
Kevin, on the other hand, was looking at a Rorschach.
He saw longing and loneliness in the rapidly folding and abstracting smears of ink and paint. That horrible, comfortable place between failure and the decision to get back up on your feet where it would just be so much easier to close your eyes than to confront your situation, where humiliation quickly followed and made you wonder how everyone and everything else around you did it.
Kevin looked above his own head, and for once wished—hoped, even—that his thoughts were readable.
And maybe they were, because as if he had said it out loud, Wile E. frowned, and squeezed his other hand. As if he had heard him say “I get it,” loud and clear although the words died in his throat.
Kevin huffed softly, fingers twitching against the coyote's palm. “You, uh, should probably get some more sleep, huh? Especially if you're getting back to it tomorrow…”
Wile E. yawned, conceding with a half-hearted nod. “You too,” he insisted with a sign, and shifted so he was back on his side. He rubbed his cheek against Paige's leg, and settled once more into a rare slumber.
* * *
And later, when Kevin and Paige woke him up, Wile E. found that at some point Paige had draped her blazer over him and tucked it under his shoulders, and that Kevin was still ruffling his fur.