Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Home, love, family, I will never be complete until I find you! One step at a time, one hope, then another; who knows where this road may go?” - Journey To The Past, Anastasia

What did you buy a King for his birthday? 

It was a question Brain had been asking himself all week. Yakko’s birthday was in a month, his fifteenth birthday here at last, and Brain wasn’t at all sure what to buy for him.

Yakko was King of Warnerstock; needless to say, the child had whatever he wanted.

Brain knew Yakko well. He knew Yakko liked mischief; he liked fun and chaos, he loved to prank people and drive them crazy. But he also loved music and learning, especially history and geography. He was impossibly, incredibly curious, forever asking questions. Now that he had good teachers once more, his love of learning had been reignited. 

But Yakko had plenty of toys and gadgets. He had a whole library. Clothes would be useless, Yakko had a massive wardrobe (and even so, he preferred his slacks and usually a comfortable shirt. Nothing fancy. So there was no point in jewellery, surely?)

Brain was a genius and that was a simple fact. Not bragging, not preening, not being arrogant; a fact. He was the genius and Pinky was insane. Simple as that.

So a birthday present should be easy for a genius to figure out. Theoretically, at least, because Brain felt like he was floundering. Nothing seemed good enough.

He was almost tempted to just get a card and some money and have done with it, but that wouldn’t work either. 

Again: Yakko was the King. He had plenty of money.

Sighing, he glanced at the clock; it was nearly time for dinner, he’d been pondering for hours now. He supposed a break wouldn’t hurt; besides, he had a month to plan. Maybe inspiration would hit him if he managed to relax. Maybe…

(He wasn’t too hopeful.)

Out of habit, he went in search of Pinky. His friend was always liable to completely lose track of time and forget he had places to be, unless Brain reminded him.

“Someone holds her safe and warm, someone rescues her from the storm. Simple things, but one thing’s clear: it's fate that brought us here.” - Quartet At The Ballet, Anastasia: Broadway

He found Pinky in their room. Pinky sat on his bed, surrounded by ribbons, glitter, glue, and shreds of crepe paper. Spread open on the bed was a massive book, bound in lavender leather.

When Brain climbed up onto the bed, he saw it was a scrapbook. Pinky was humming the Warners’ lullaby as he worked, sticking in photos with a big smile on his face.

They were all photos of Pinky, Brain and Yakko. The pages were covered in glitter: pink, lavender, blue and gold, in random splotches and dashes. Crepe-paper hearts surrounded the photos, a little lopsided and uneven (some barely resembled hearts at all). Pinky had doodled smiley faces, hearts and stars on the pages; there were some arrows pointing to the pictures with captions such as ‘It’s you!’ and ‘A good day out!’ Some captions were just Pinky’s favourite nonsense words, poit and narf. 

In short, every inch of the pages were covered, with no spare space left. Pinky was truly going all out.

“Impressive, old friend,” Brain told him. “I take it this is Yakko’s birthday present?”

“Narf! Aw, thanks, Brain,” Pinky said, beaming at him. “D’you wanna sign it? I still have lots and lots of pages to finish!”

A kind offer, but Brain hesitated. 

“It’s your gift,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It can be from both of us,” Pinky said brightly. He flipped to the next page, which was blank and pushed a stack of photos towards Brain. “You can help me pick the best ones- oh, and we can take new ones!” His eyes were shining as he swayed back and forth. “Maybe we can take a picture in our jackets?”

“Our jackets?” Brain frowned. “The ones Yakko made?”

“Uh huh!”

The idea certainly had merit. But did it make Brain lazy? Unimaginative? Deep down, he simply did not want to disappoint his little friend. His…

Family.

His eyes caught on a slip of bright pink paper. He recognised Pinky’s distinctive handwriting: large and awkward, a few letters were back-to-front and some were larger than others.

The note was simple:

To my Yakko,
Narf! Happy birthday- you’re getting big now!
I hope you have a fun day!!!
Lots of love from, 
Pinky 
xxxxxxxxx

There truly were a lot of x’s. But it sparked an idea.

“Yes,” Brain said. “I think I’d like that.” He sat next to his friend and grabbed a spare sheet of paper, in a (rather unfortunate) shade of buttercup yellow.

And he began to write.

Dear Yakko,
Pinky is correct, you’re “getting big.” You are growing up, growing and changing all the time and it is an honour to see.
I hope you know I’m proud of you. Every day, I am proud of you and all you have accomplished.
I know I do not say it often, but I love you dearly.
Happy birthday, child- and here’s to many more to come.
Love from,
The Brain

It wasn’t much, but just as writing was not Pinky’s forte, emotions were not Brain’s strong point. 

It wasn’t much, but he hoped it was enough. He hoped it got his point across, because it was sincere. 

After dinner, they flagged down that bizarre butler (Brain was certain he was a giant chicken, though only Wakko seemed to believe him), dressed in their lavender jackets. The butler obliged their request, and took a photo of them.

They stuck it in the album, on a page of its own, with their notes. The photo showed the two of them standing on a balcony, overlooking Acme Falls. Pinky had his arm around Brain, grinning widely, looking absolutely delighted. Brain managed a small smile (and he didn’t think he looked too awkward or sinister for once), each of them in the jackets Yakko had made for them, so long ago on that trip to Burbank, what felt like a lifetime ago already- back before they’d known the truth, back when Brain didn’t want to admit he’d grown fond of ‘Elo,’ back when he didn’t want to admit to anyone, least of all himself, that he cared.

But he cared, perhaps more than he could ever truly say.

Brain hoped it was enough.

They both signed the album on the last page.

Happy silly-willy birthday, Yakko! - Love from Pinky ❤

Happy birthday, Yakko - Brain

“Time stands still; beauty in all she is. I will be brave, I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this. One step closer...I have died every day waiting for you; darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.” - A Thousand Years, Christina Perri

Scratchy knew he was easily stressed. It was just a fact of life; right from childhood, he’d been easy to freak out. (And hadn’t Angelina delighted in poking fun at him for it?)

But right now, he figured he was well within his rights to be stressed.

Planning a birthday party for royalty was no easy feat, especially when said royalty was your godchild. Especially when it was Yakko, who’d been missing for so long. They had five missed birthdays to make up for. Five miserable years to make up for.

Scratchy wanted this to be perfect.

Each year in Burbank, they’d had...he didn’t want to call it a memorial, but they’d had a slice of Yakko’s favourite cake and lit a candle, just like they did for Angelina and William. Then Scratchy, Wakko, Dot and Nurse would sit together for hours, telling stories about Yakko, the antics he got up to as a child, how zany he’d been, how much trouble he was as soon as he learned to crawl.

He could admit, it had also been for Dot’s benefit. She was so young, Scratchy was fearful she’d forget if they didn’t talk about it. 

But there’d be nothing of the sort this year- well, there’d be cake of course, but there would be no sadness, no mourning. No, this year they would have fun. This year, they would have a party. It would be the best party possible.

It was Yakko’s first birthday since he’d been returned to them, Warnerstock was thriving again and Scratchy was going to make this work, damn it all. It would be perfect, even if it killed him.

Oh dear, perhaps Nurse was right when she said the Warners’ theatrics were rubbing off on him…

He gathered the staff in the ball room with Nurse; Brain had (reluctantly) volunteered to distract the children (mainly Yakko) by bringing them horse riding and, of course, Pinky had been delighted to bring Pharfignewton along with them.

Knowing his godchildren and their hyper-active ways, they had hours to plan. 

Nurse stood at his side with a long list, a pencil tucked behind her ear. The staff were gathered in front of him. Each and every one of them looked determined, like they were about to be sent to battle, like they were about to be given a very important mission- which they were. A very important mission indeed.

“Ve vill make zis perfect,” Scratchy declared, chin up. (An almost feverish glint came into his eyes, causing Nurse to giggle.) “Ve vill need balloons, streamers- ve vill need snacks und treats, I vant all of Yakko’s favourites here, ja? I don’t care if it’s not normal party food, ve will have it anyway.”

Flavio saluted him. Runt was nodding enthusiastically, while Rita watched him avidly.

“Yakko’s favourite colour is lavender,” Nurse said. “So we’ll want lots of decorations to be lavender too.”

Their head chef spoke up; “I can make his cake lavender!” 

The other chefs nodded in agreement and Scratchy smiled. “Ja,” he said, pointing at the man. “Zis cake vill need to be big. Ginormous!”

Nurse began to hand out tasks. She, personally, would see about hiring a band. Scratchy called Rita and Runt over to him.

“You know Yakko,” he said. “He vill try to get in here before everything is ready. On his birthday, I vant you two to keep him out of my hair.”

“What hair?” Rita asked with a smirk. Scratchy chose to ignore that.

“Keep him busy,” he ordered. “Take him into Acme Falls, or even just play in ze gardens. But just keep him out of zis room!”

“Aye-aye, boss!” Runt said, nodding so enthusiastically that Rita nearly fell off his head.

“Sure thing,” Rita said. “The kid’s easy to entertain.”

That was true; it would certainly make things easier. Meanwhile, Scratchy got to work on the invitations.

“‘Cause you're dreaming with your eyes wide open, and you know you can't go back again to the world that you were living in, ‘cause you're dreaming with your eyes wide open- so, come alive!” - Come Alive, The Greatest Showman

Plotz blinked at the invitation in surprise. He was hard at work in his restaurant, but Minerva had marched right into the kitchen and pressed it into his hand. It was a pretty invitation, on pale blue paper with a border of gold, written in Duke Scratchansniff’s own hand.

An invitation to King Yakko’s birthday party.

Oh, how the tables turned.

Plotz put it away safely, but he couldn’t get it out of his head. They were really inviting him? Well, he was still a member of the nobility, he supposed it made sense.

When he finally took a break, he emerged into the restaurant to find Ralph, sitting at the counter with an invitation of his own. He was looking at it with a pleasantly surprised smile.

“You got one too then?” Plotz asked, peering at it. It was much the same as his own, but with an added line to invite Ralph’s wife and children.

“Uh huh!” Ralph said, still smiling. “What’cha gonna get him?”

Oh dear, that was something to consider, wasn’t it? What in the world to buy their King as a birthday gift. 

“I’ll have to think about it,” he admitted. He didn’t doubt the whole court would be tripping over themselves to get the best gift possible, fighting to outdo each other. Plotz had plenty of time to think of something.

Ralph had already decided. “My wife’ll bake a lot of cookies, I bet,” he said happily. “I’ll get him some toys, he likes to play.”

That was true. At the end of the day, Yakko liked to be active, to mess around. At the end of the day, he was still a child. And, knowing Ralph’s wife, Plotz didn’t doubt she’d bake a ridiculous amount. To be fair, she was a good baker.

Plotz hummed and frowned, tapping his fingers against the counter. What did you buy for someone who had everything?

He sighed and, under Ralph’s expectant gaze, he repeated, “I’ll have to think about it.”

What to do, what to purchase? He thought about it, on and off, for the rest of the day. He thought about it as he went home, he thought about it as he had dinner and went to bed.

He’d once chased Yakko down under strict orders from Salazar to capture the boy. He’d been part of the small group trying to kill the Warners in Burbank.

And yet he’d been given a second chance. They’d opened his eyes to the true suffering of Warnerstock, to the people of Acme Falls...And they’d inspired him to open his restaurant. 

Ah. There was an idea! Free service at his restaurant; free service for life. The Warners already had a massive discount (and they were quite generous with tips, to do them credit), but free service? It seemed like a good idea.

Plotz would need to think of something else, of course- he wouldn’t just give the King a voucher for his birthday!- but it was a start.

Satisfied, Plotz drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

“We're takin' a stand, we're takin' a vow; this is the place, the moment is now! We're Yakko, Wakko and Dot! We've givin' it all we've got!” - The Wishing Star, Wakko’s Wish

Dot had known to expect mayhem after she and her brothers escaped their guards. Indeed, Scratchy had been furious, though whether he was angrier at them for running off, or at their guards for falling for their antics, she wasn’t so sure.

She maintained that tying up had been entirely necessary, thank you very much, Scratchy.

But she’d had an ace up her sleeve, a surefire way to get out of trouble. She batted her eyes, pouted, and sweetly said, “It’s Yakko’s birthday next month.”

It was like Scratchy short-circuited. He froze, gaping at them. He didn’t even blink. It was kind of weird.

Yakko swayed back and forth on his heels, a slightly uncomfortable smile on his face.

“Uuuuuhhhh, it’s not a big deal, Scratch-and-stinky,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh yes it is!” Scratchy said, just a little too loudly. “Your birthday! Ve must celebrate!”

Yakko looked bewildered. Not for the first time (and not for the last) Dot wanted to hunt down the old orphanage staff members and toss them into the ocean. She was still a little sour that Wakko had vandalised the head matron’s house without her.

Wakko’s expression momentarily darkened and Dot knew he was dreaming of further revenge as well.

But back to the matter at hand- Scratchy was thoroughly distracted. Everyone was. Even Brain forgot to nag them, sidetracked by Yakko’s birthday.

It worked like a charm.

Yakko frowned at her as Scratchy hurried away, babbling about plans.

“I thought you guys wanted to plan?” he asked, hands on his hips.

Grinning, Wakko and Dot rubbed their hands together. Their fangs were on show, their eyes glinted with glee. The shadows around them grew darker and longer, and sinister music began to play.

“Oh, we will,” Dot promised.

Anyone else would have run for it, or at least been nervous. But Yakko only rolled his eyes and patted them on the head.

“Just make sure any explosions are impressive,” he said.

“What do you take us for?” Dot demanded. “Amateurs?” 

“No one could ever know me, no one could ever see me. Seems you're the only one who knows what it's like to be me. Someone to face the day with, make it through all the rest with; someone I'll always laugh with. Even at my worst, I'm best with you.” - I’ll Be There For You, The Rembrandts

Wakko marched into the kitchen with his head held high, arms swinging. Looking around, it was hard to believe how much of a mess this place had been when they’d come home. It had been covered in dust and grime and they’d found rats, not to mention spiders, which had utterly disgusted Dot.

But now the kitchen was back to normal. It was spotless, the way Wakko dimly remembered it being years ago; clean but busy, with everyone hard at work.

“Here for a snack, Prince Wakko?” one of the chefs asked.

“Yup,” Wakko said. “But I gotta talk to you about Yakko’s birthday.”

“Ah, yes, Duke Scratchansniff already gave us a list.”

“I know,” Wakko said, hopping up onto a nearby counter, swinging his legs. “And I’m here to help. I know all Yakko’s favourites.” His smile widened. “And I’ve got an idea for the cake.”

One by one, more chefs were taking notice. Some stopped working and came over. Most continued their jobs, but watched Wakko curiously, listening carefully.

The head chef came over and bowed to him. “Your Highness,” he said. He was a very tall, very broad human man with dark brown hair. “How can we help you?”

In response, Wakko reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a drawing. It was a drawing of an absolutely massive cake, ten tiers high, coloured lavender and topped with a castle. Each layer had different decorations: crowns, Yakko, Wakko and Dot hand in hand, stars, music notes; suns and moons, mallets, swords, flowers, sweets in brightly coloured wrappers, and books. Each layer had an arrow pointing to the decorations that said ‘marzipan,’ and an arrow naming each flavour; chocolate, vanilla, strawberries and cream, coconut, banana, lemon, carrot and walnut; red velvet, black forest gateau and, finally, coffee.

Maybe it wasn’t the best drawing, but Wakko figured it got the point across. The actual chefs would know what to do and how to do it best.

“It’s gotta be the best cake ever,” Wakko said earnestly. 

The head chef took the drawing gently. His eyes softened as he looked at it and he smiled at Wakko.

“I can promise you, my prince, it will be the best cake we’ve ever made.” His smile widened. “Now how about that snack?”

It promised to be the best birthday feast ever. There was all the usual fancy stuff you’d expect at a royal party; h'dourves and big courses of meat, vegetables, soups and seafood, little sandwiches and sausages on sticks and all kinds of fruit. There were all the desserts; cakes, muffins, cupcakes, jellies and pies; a whole bunch of drinks that Wakko was way too young to drink, specially for the grown-ups (totally unfair if you asked him.)

And then there was the stuff Wakko suggested; sweets galore, popcorn, peanuts, chocolates, toffees, ice cream in every flavour he could think of; different cakes, donuts and gummies. 

To top it all off, there was the birthday cake. The head chef took Wakko’s sketch and rolled with it, re-drawing it in his own style and adding finishing touches with a satisfied smile.

“Make sure the icing is thick,” Wakko told him, munching on a sandwich they’d given him. “Yakko likes icing.”

It was funny; the chefs almost looked like soldiers, they seemed so determined, completely focussed on their goals.

Good. Wakko was too.

The next step was the presents.

“Got the glue in my hands and stickin' to the plan, stickin' to the plan that says I can do anything at all. I can do anything at all.” - Set It All Free, Sing

Hiring the band was the easy part; Heloise found one quickly. It wasn’t exactly difficult to find someone who wanted to perform for the King after all.

The guest list was the trickier part.

She sat with Scratchy, Brain, Pinky, Wakko and Dot, going over the list. Yakko had looked so baffled by the mere idea of a guest list that she’d given him a tight hug before sending him on his way. They’d been planning for over a week now and the idea of a big birthday party still seemed to confuse him.

Perhaps it was a good thing Heloise had never met the old matrons and teachers. She wasn’t sure how she’d handle seeing them.

Yakko had gone to visit Daisy and Ralph Jr with a final protest that he didn’t mind having a small list.

If you asked Heloise, he was underestimating his own popularity. The people of Warnerstock loved him; he was hailed as a saviour, a hero from a fairytale. He’d won over a large chunk of foreign nobility and royalty. The story of Salazar’s downfall alone was enough to impress people, but add on Yakko’s charisma, his jokes and wit, and he had more admirers than might be expected.

She’d written to Slappy, who immediately wrote back to say she and Skippy would be in attendance.

I’ll bring the fireworks, Slappy wrote, because of course she would. Heloise would expect nothing less.

The list was large. The entire court was invited, of course, along with their closest neighbours; Anvilania (though their Duke certainly hadn’t impressed Yakko- hopefully, if they agreed to attend, they’d send someone else. She wasn’t sure the Duke would want to return after the Warners’ revenge on him anyway), Jollywood and Wackyland.

She hesitated to write to Ticktockia. 

“No,” Dot said firmly.

Heloise crossed them off the list. It was probably for the best anyway.

After that, it was mostly Yakko’s friends from the orphanage. A long list and one she hoped would make Yakko smile.

Later that same day, Dot went to the music room to clear her head. She flopped down in front of the piano, idly tapping some keys, and tried to think.

Okay, so they had a pretty good guest list going and Wakko reported that the kitchen staff were on board with his cake idea. They were already ordering decorations and she knew everyone in the palace was working on presents. Pinky and Brain already had theirs ready to go.

Dot knew she wasn’t alone in wanting this birthday to be perfect. This was for Yakko, her Yakko, her big brother. Her funny, silly, crazy, genius big brother who she loved.

It was the first birthday he’d get to celebrate in five years; heck, it was the first birthday he’d remember in five years. It had to be absolutely perfect. 

It was Yakko. Her Yakko. One of a kind and- oh.

Dot’s smile widened as pressed some keys, humming to herself, a melody suddenly coming to mind.

There’s only one of you...That makes you special…

She jumped up and ran from the music room.

“WAKKO!” she shrieked. “WAKKO, I HAVE AN IDEA!”

Chapter Text

“The story of my life, I take her home; I drive all night to keep her warm, and time is frozen. The story of my life, I give her hope, I spend her love until she's broke inside. The story of my life…” - The Story of My Life, One Direction

It was Yakko’s birthday at last. Servants had been preparing the ball room since seven o’clock- not that Yakko knew, he was still fast asleep, with Wakko and Dot on either side of him, fast asleep as well.

Wakko was draped over Yakko, while Dot curled up small, snoring. No one disturbed them until ten o’clock and the three of them woke slowly, stretching and yawning.

“Rise and shine,” Nurse said, pulling open the curtains. “We’ve a big day ahead of us.”

Dot perked up first, grinning at Yakko. “Happy birthday!” she cried, flinging her arms around him.

Wakko immediately joined in, hugging him tightly. “Happy birthday,” he echoed.

Nurse smiled, leaning down to kiss Yakko’s forehead. (He immediately flushed bright pink, love hearts in his eyes.) “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, poking him on the nose. “Now, do me a favour- stay out of trouble while we get ready.”

“What, don’t you trust me?” Yakko asked with faux indignation.

Nurse only laughed at him. “Absolutely not.”

It was Rita and Runt’s job to keep Yakko busy- but also to keep him from getting too dirty, or too far from the palace, or in too much trouble.

Kind of an impossible task if you asked Rita, though she was happy to keep the kid company. As the morning wore on, he got more impatient, more fidgety, constantly trying to escape them to peek into the ballroom.

“Nuh uh,” Rita said on the fourth attempt. She jumped onto Yakko’s back, tugging on his ears, while Runt tugged on Yakko’s pant-leg, trying to pull him back down the hall.

“Oh, come on!” Yakko complained. “I can’t even look?”

“Nope,” Rita said. She looked at his frustrated scowl and sighed. “How about we head into town?” she suggested.

Yakko’s ears stood up straight. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rita said. “We’ll go have some fun.”

“I'm just a man, I'm not a hero; just a boy, who had to sing this song. I'm just a man, I'm not a hero. I don't care! We'll carry on, we'll carry on! And though you're dead and gone, believe me, your memory will carry on. You'll carry on! And though you're broken and defeated, your weary widow marches on. Do or die, you'll never make me, because the world will never take my heart. Go and try, you'll never break me.” - Welcome To The Black Parade, My Chemical Romance

It was a bright, sunny summer day, not a cloud in the sky, and Yakko was dying. He marched away from the palace, constantly glancing over his shoulder.

They were really planning a party for him. He was actually going to have a birthday party later with his family and friends, presents and cake. It was real.

It was weird.

He knew they’d be eating a lot later, but he still stopped to buy an ice cream; three scoops, one of chocolate, one strawberry and one mint. Rita got a cookie; Runt eyed some chocolate hopefully, but Yakko and Rita got him some jerky instead and he was happily distracted after that.

Almost everyone they passed smiled at them. Some bowed or curtsied, others waved and called out greetings. Yakko waved back, grinning every time. 

Last year, he’d walked into Acme Falls in the middle of the night, an orphan with nothing to his name and the few people around hadn’t spared him a glance. Last year, Acme Falls had been miserable, run down and utterly hopeless. 

It was crazy what some time and work could accomplish. 

They sat on the edge of the fountain, nibbling at their treats and watching the people go buy.

Rita nudged him. “You excited?” she asked.

Yakko smiled, leaning back to look at the sky. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I am.”

“Good,” she said. “You deserve it, kid.”

He deserved it. How bizarre. How utterly bizarre. 

This was the type of party, the type of life he’d have killed for less than a year ago. Sometimes he still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it.

Yakko had a name. He had a family, he had friends and a home; people who wanted him. He was a king.

“It’s nuts,” he said.

Rita smiled, eating the last of her cookie. “I know what you mean,” she said. Her gaze wandered towards the train station, towards her and Runt’s old alley. “Crazy how fast things change, huh?”

“It's a good change,” Runt said happily. “Real good.”

Yakko patted him on the head. “It is,” he agreed. “It’s the best.”

A home and a family; people who he loved, who loved him in return. And, back home, they were getting ready to celebrate his birthday.

Yeah. Yakko thought that was pretty great.

Scratchy looked around with a satisfied smile. The ballroom looked perfect at last. The chandeliers glittered overhead, the dance floor was so clean and polished that it reflected the guests; the thrones were in place on the dais, under a banner with the Warner symbol, the family portrait with Angelina and William was right under the banner.

Blue, gold and lavender banners, streamers and balloons covered the walls. The napkins were lavender, the plates were gold, the table clothes were blue and gold. Marita had sprinkled glitter here and there across the tables and handfuls of bright confetti.

An absolutely massive lavender banner read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY YAKKO!” in bright gold letters. The food was all laid out, the giant pile of presents was set out by the dais and the guests poured into the room, taking their seats.

He saw Ralph, his wife, Ralph Jr and Daisy sitting together. Daisy was talking the ear off Plotz, who already looked exhausted, but he managed to give her a small smile.

Pinky walked past in the lavender jacket Yakko had made him- or, specifically, he was on Pharfignewton’s back. Pharfignewton’s mane and tail had been freshly brushed, and she had a bright pink ribbon tied to her tail.

“Er, Pinky…” Scratchy began to speak.

“Yeah, Scratchers?” Pinky asked, blinking earnestly. Pharfignewton smiled at him.

Scratchy sighed, waving them on. “It’s nothing,” he muttered.

“Narf!”

Brain, walking along normally, gave Scratchy a long-suffering look.

Well, it was Yakko’s birthday. It was bound to get weird.

Nurse approached with a smile. She looked stunning in her long green dress, her hair in a bun and held in place with a diamond clasp, with a matching necklace and earrings.

“It looks wonderful!” she said, squeezing his hand. “He’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” Scratchy said, looking around once more. He glanced at the table of kids from the orphanage; everyone, from the youngest child to the eldest was there, along with the new staff they’d hired. Holly, the new head matron, waved at him and Nurse, a toddler on her lap.

“He’ll love it,” Nurse repeated firmly. “I know he will.” She glanced at the time. “Shall I go fetch them now?”

“Ja,” Scratchy said with a nod. He couldn’t help but smile, and clapped his hands together. “Let’s party!”

“But there is only one of you, that makes you special. Yes, there is nothing else exactly like you are. ‘Cause you're unique and you're terrific, and you're kind of real specific- ‘cause there's no one else the same as the person you became!” - There’s Only One Of You, Animaniacs

Dot sat on Yakko’s bed, swinging her legs as her brother put his crown on. It was a simpler crown than the one he had to wear for ceremonies; just a simple circlet of gold with a single diamond. He always said it was way less heavy than the other ones.

“Nearly time!” Dot proclaimed, looking at the clock.

Despite the feast waiting for them, Wakko was already eating and had been since they started getting ready. He sat on the floor, munching on donuts. Dot rolled her eyes when he belched.

“You’re disgusting,” she said flatly.

“I’m a growing boy,” Wakko said, nose in the air. He held out a donut. “Want one?”

“I’ll pass,” Dot said. Wakko turned to Yakko, but their brother turned it down too.

“More for me!” Wakko said happily. There was a knock on the door and he shoved the last of the donuts into his mouth, swallowing them whole.

“Come in,” Yakko called, and Nurse walked in.

The boys immediately wolf-whistled.

Dot groaned, flopping onto her back. “Boys,” she groaned.

Nurse was far too used to them to react. She simply shook her head and asked, “Ready to go, kids?”

Dot glanced at herself in the mirror; she wore a long pink dress with short puffed sleeves and ribbons, her favourite tiara and, as always, her pendant. If you asked her, she looked absolutely adorable.

Wakko wore his hat, stubbornly refusing to remove it, and he wore his pendant, just like Dot and Yakko. He’d changed into a pale blue suit and wore a brooch of their family’s symbol and utterly refused to put his tie back on, having quickly gotten sick of it; he took it off and threw it across the room and ignored it on the ground.

Yakko had happily put on a purple suit with dashes of gold on the jacket. He’d laughingly taken his own tie off, saying he’d keep Wakko company. He kept twisting the thin chain of his pendant around his hand. Dot thought his smile looked a little nervous.

Well, if she had any say he wouldn’t be nervous at all soon. Her and Wakko’s present would simply be the best, and then he’d be smiling and laughing for real.

“Show time,” Yakko said. He held his hands out; Wakko took his left hand and Dot took his right.

“Let’s do this,” Dot said with a grin.

Nurse led the way down the hall and down the stairs, towards the ballroom. Even from a distance, Dot could hear people talking and music.

“We’re gonna have fun,” Wakko said, squeezing Yakko’s hand. “Promise, big bro.”

Yakko smiled at him fondly. “I know,” he said, and the guards announced their arrival, opening the double doors for them.

“Whoa!” the three Warners gasped.

It was perfect, Dot thought giddily, biting back delighted giggles. It was bright and colourful and perfect. She hadn’t seen the finished product before, but all the staff’s hard work had definitely paid off.

As they walked in the band began to play Happy Birthday, while the guests stood and clapped. Daisy called, “Hi, Yakko!” finally getting his name right. Slappy whistled loudly, while Skippy stood on his chair to clap.

“Whoa,” Yakko repeated as he stared around at everything and everyone, his eyes glittering.

Scratchy came over (sadly wearing that god-awful toupee) and pulled Yakko into a hug.

“Happy birthday,” he said, surprisingly gently. 

“Thanks,” Yakko said, still staring around in awe. Honestly, Dot couldn’t blame him.

Scratchy smiled, squeezing Yakko’s shoulder. “Let’s party, ja?”

Yakko’s first thought was that the birthday cake was an utter monstrosity and it was perfect.

They wheeled it in, ten tiers tall and as broad as Ralph. It had thick lavender icing, decorated with crowns, miniature versions of Yakko, Wakko and Dot standing hand in hand; stars, music notes; suns and moons, mallets and swords; flowers, sweets in brightly coloured wrappers and, finally, books, all marzipan and topped with a castle on the top tier. Pipied on the bottom layer was yet another message of Happy birthday Yakko! and instead of regular candles they had sprinklers.

Yakko took one look at it and burst out laughing in glee. 

“D’you like it?” Wakko asked eagerly, tugging on his sleeve.

“It’s brilliant,” Yakko said earnestly. The chefs looked delighted.

“Each layer is a different flavour, Your Majesty,” the head chef said. “We hope you enjoy it.”

Yakko’s stomach was probably going to burst by the end of the night. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The cake really was delicious.

The presents were in a league of their own. Yakko didn’t know where to start.

From the foreign royals and nobility there were the usual gifts; jewels, gold, jewellery, portraits, poetry; even a boat and a horse. 

From Mrs. Ralph there was a massive bag filled to bursting with different kinds of cookies; Ralph gave him a paddle-ball, hula-hoop and skipping-rope. Daisy handed him a drawing of her and Yakko standing together with big smiles on their faces; it was crooked and messy and Yakko loved it, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You’re an artist, little lady,” he told her, poking her on the nose.

Daisy nodded solemnly. “I know,” she said. Dot burst out laughing.

He had to admit he appreciated Plotz’s voucher of Free Service For Life. His restaurant had a damn good menu, thanks very much. To add onto it, Plotz gave him a dark purple cape, trimmed with ermine. Not Yakko’s idea of a casual outfit, but it would come in handy for ceremonies and formal events.

“Aw, Plotzy, you do care,” he teased.

Plotz cleared his throat. “Er, well-” He broke off, sputtering, when Yakko dramatically kissed him.

“Yakko,” Scratchy groaned.

“That’s me!” Yakko said cheerfully. 

From Rita and Runt there was a big, thick sweater, patterned with stars. If it wasn’t so hot out, Yakko would have pulled it on right away.

Smiling, Nurse handed him a small box wrapped in pink paper. Inside was a rose-gold locket engraved with a crown- and inside the locket was a picture of Angelina and William.

It was one of the rare times when Yakko felt lost for words. His eyes stung uncomfortably, he tried to think of something witty to say...But instead he just flung his arms around Nurse, hugging her tightly.

Nurse hugged him just as tightly, rubbing his back.

“They’d be so proud of you, sweetheart,” she whispered. She helped slip the locket around his neck, smiling gently. 

At least Pharfignewton’s present dried his eyes: it was a chew toy, shaped like a carrot. It wasn’t wrapped, it simply had a ribbon tied to it.

“Er...Thanks,” Yakko said limply. He gave it a squeeze and it squeaked.

Pharfignewton neighed happily. Brain slouched in his seat, muttering curses under his breath.

“Aw, darling!” Pinky cooed, patting her on the nose. “You’re so thoughtful!”

“Cool!” Wakko said. Yakko handed it to him.

“You can have it,” he muttered. Wakko didn’t seem to mind; on the contrary, he pulled the ribbon off and happily chewed away.

To each their own, Yakko supposed.

“Alright, my gift next!” Scratchy said brightly.

“Are you finally taking that dead thing off your head?” Yakko asked.

“No, I- hey!” Scratchy’s eyes narrowed, hands on his hips. “Zis is an expensive toupee!”

“You should get your money back,” the Warners chorused. 

Scratchy was turning a delightful shade of red, but he held back from exploding. He took a deep breath and slowly returned to his normal colour, though he muttered about “Zany monkeys,” under his breath.

“My present is outside,” he said, gesturing to the windows. The curtains were closed, but when Yakko ran to open them, he immediately saw Scratchy’s present: outside in the garden, painted a lovely shade of sky blue and white, was a brand new carriage, pulled by six horses.

Yakko whistled, eyes wide. “Wow, Scratchy,” he said with a grin. “You really go all out.”

Scratchy’s smile was almost shy as he gave Yakko a one-armed hug.

“I have five years of presents to make up for,” he said. “Seems like a good start, ja?”

“Ja,” Yakko echoed. “It’s amazing, Scratchy.”

Scratchy looked positively delighted.

If Nurse’s present had been a hit to his composure than Pinky and Brain’s combined present was a full on attack. As Yakko flicked through the pages of the scrap-book he felt dangerously close to crying. Each and every page was filled with pictures of him, Pinky and Brain; there were drawings of stars and smiling faces, glitter and crepe hearts, all in different colours. 

And then, on the last page, was a picture of Pinky and Brain standing together in their lavender jackets. On each side of the picture were notes from them.

To my Yakko,
Narf! Happy birthday- you’re getting big now!
I hope you have a fun day!!!

Lots of love from,
Pinky
xxxxxxxxx

Dear Yakko,
Pinky is correct, you’re “getting big.” You are growing up, growing and changing all the time and it is an honour to see.
I hope you know I’m proud of you. Every day, I am proud of you and all you have accomplished.
I know I do not say it often, but I love you dearly.
Happy birthday, child- and here’s to many more to come.
Love from,
The Brain

Well, damn. Don’t cry, he told himself. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Everyone was watching, they were in a crowded ballroom with a bunch of foreign nobility and their whole court. Yakko didn’t want to cry in front of everyone- but it was a dangerously close thing. His throat was tight, his vision blurred and he couldn’t have stopped smiling if he’d been paid to. 

He set the book aside and picked Pinky and Brain up, smiling at them and hugging them close.

“You guys are the best,” Yakko told them.

Pinky beamed at him, giving him a messy kiss on the cheek. “We love you, narf!” he said brightly.

Brain’s smile was smaller and he squeezed Yakko’s arm.

“Happy birthday, child.”

“Our turn, our turn!” Wakko and Dot cried. They zoomed to the pile of presents and then they were back at Yakko’s side in a flash, holding a massive flat thing between them, wrapped in bright multi-coloured paper and ribbons. A birthday card was tapped to it, clearly hand-drawn by his sibs.

He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what the present was.

Sure enough, when he unwrapped it he saw that it was a massive portrait of him, Wakko and Dot. It wasn’t formal and stuffy; it was the three of them pulling silly faces, dressed in their favourite comfortable clothes, standing arm in arm, painted with bright colours and bold strokes.

Yakko hugged them as tight as he could and they clung to him so tightly it hurt, practically crawling onto his lap.

“Love you, sibs,” Yakko said.

“We love ya!” Dot said happily. “But that’s not the only present.”

“No?” Yakko glanced at the pile. Everything had been unwrapped. “What, is it more snacks?” he asked.

“No,” Wakko said, almost mournfully. “But it’s good, promise!”

They jumped off him; in the blink of an eye they were in the centre of the ballroom. With a snap of Dot’s fingers a spotlight appeared overhead and their outfits changed: she and Wakko were now in matching striped yellow-and-red jackets, matching hats and blue bow-ties. Dot was in a red skirt and Wakko was in red pants. They were both thrumming with energy, eyes shining.

They snapped their fingers and the lights dimmed, the music began, an almost jazzy sort of number.

And Dot began to sing.

“There are fifty-thousand different kinds of animals, and there are fifty-thousand more that used to be!” As she sang, she summoned different backgrounds, showing pictures of lions and dinosaurs, pointing at them like a teacher.

“There's a hundred-million ants, and half a billion plants, and a lot of fish down underneath the sea!” She pulled a disgusted face at the mention of the ants, but she seemed happy to show a quick slide-show of flowers; roses, daisies, violets and lilies. Instead of normal fish, she summoned a giant picture of a dolphin and mermaid.

It was catchy; it was cute and quirky, but where were they going with this?

“There's gotta be a couple million spiders. A hundred-fifty million butterflies and bees; and a bunch of different mammals like those elephants and camels, and approximately fifty-billion trees!”

They both pointed at him with a grin and Wakko joined in the singing.

“But there is only one of you, that makes you special. You stand out among the other things, it's true! Yes, the universe is large, and whoever is in charge made lots of things, but only one of you!”

Oh, Yakko thought, eyes widening. He felt oddly breathless, his hands clenched in his lap. Nurse squeezed his shoulder, but Yakko’s eyes were glued to his little siblings. He didn’t even want to blink, he didn’t want to miss a second.

“There's a trillion drops of water in the ocean, and a billion trillion molecules of air,” Wakko sang. “There are insects here en masse, and a trillion blades of grass, and a thousand strands in every head of hair.” He summoned a wig, turning it around on his hand, before promptly vanishing it with a grin.

“A lot of little grains of dirt make up this planet,” Dot sang. “A billion atoms on the head of every pin!” She summoned a pin and a magnifying glass, squinting at the pin. 

“A million birds that all can fly-” Wakko threw his arms up and a flock of white birds flew overhead, vanishing in seconds. “A trillion stars up in the sky-” The entire room was suddenly a background of the night sky, swirling with stars and galaxies, and many of the guests gasped in awe. “And all the many different people there have been!" Wakko and Dot opened their arms wide, gesturing to the room as a whole, and the starry background slowly vanished, returning the ballroom to normal.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry...

Jumping in tandem, his siblings landed in front of the dais, twirling together.

“‘Cause you're unique and you're terrific, and you're kind of real specific!” they sang, tipping their hats to Yakko. They were both smiling, their dark eyes shining- for him, they were doing all of this for him.

“‘Cause there's no one else the same as the person you became!” With that they jumped onto his lap, flinging their arms around him.

“In fact, you’re kind of weird,” Wakko said with a grin.

“But we love you just the same!” Dot added, kissing his cheek.

Before Yakko could react they jumped away again, cartwheeling back to the centre of the room. The music picked up as they began to dance, twirling their hats; they summoned batons and pranced up and down, waving their hands.

“‘Cause you're the only one of you there are! Ba ba boop, ba ba doop, ba ba doop-ba!”

They skidded across the floor, doing jazz hands, grinning at Yakko. The lights returned to normal, the music stopped and their guests jumped up to clap and cheer.

Yakko’s chest hurt. His heart felt bigger than normal and he pressed his hands over his mouth, unsure if he was about to start laughing or sobbing.

“Sweetheart?” Nurse’s voice was gentle, but Yakko brushed past her. Summoning his toon powers, he zoomed over to his siblings, crashing to his knees and pulling them into his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut, but some tears still leaked out. His next breath hitched awkwardly, but he started to laugh.

“You’re brilliant, ” Yakko said, pulling them onto his lap. “You’re amazing.”

“So are you,” Dot said, cupping his face in her hands. Her own eyes were wet. “You’re the best.”

“And we love you,” Wakko said, his head resting on Yakko’s shoulder.

If anyone noticed the King of Warnerstock crying then they were kind enough to not draw attention to it. Yakko didn’t want to move; he just wanted to stay here with his siblings; he wanted to keep hugging them forever.

“Nothing's gonna tear us apart; and life is a road that I wanna keep going, love is a river I wanna keep flowing. Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey. I'll be there when the world stops turning, I'll be there when the storm is through. In the end I wanna be standing at the beginning with you.” - At The Beginning, Richard Marx and Donna Lewis

Honestly, to Yakko, the party felt like a fairytale. It was the sort of party he used to reach about in his fairytale book; he used to look at the faded illustrations of ballrooms and cakes with happy, smiling people, and think it seemed too good to be true.

Only now it was true. He spent all evening eating his favourite foods, surrounded by his friends and family. He spent all evening dancing with his siblings, with Daisy and Nurse, with Pinky and even with Scratchy. He, Wakko and Dot swung from one of the chandeliers, ignoring Scratchy’s screeches. He lounged on his throne and flicked through his new scrapbook with Pinky and Brain, his fingers tracing around the edges of the pictures. He cracked jokes with his siblings, he ran around with Skippy, tossing balls back and forth, laughing until his throat ached.

At the end of it all was Slappy’s present of a firework display.

It didn’t surprise Yakko in the least.

He loved it.

They all trooped outside and Slappy happily got on with the show. It was well and truly explosive; massive fireworks shot overhead, red, purple, blue, green, gold, pink, orange and silver. Some formed shapes: four-leaf clovers, crowns, even dragons. One even looked like a stick of dynamite, which Slappy looked particularly proud of, a smug gleam in her eyes.

“Pew-pew!” Pinky cried, jumping up and down. “Bang!”

The last firework was the biggest of all: blue and gold, it soared overhead to form the Warner family symbol, right over the tallest tower of the palace.

“Happy birthday, kid,” Slappy said, clapping him on the back. Her smirk softened into a genuine smile. “You deserve a good one.”

“It’s been amazing,” Yakko said.

And it was. From start to finish, it was everything he could have dreamed of and more.

"Still...Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember. Things my heart, used to know...Once upon a December." - Finale, Anastasia: Broadway

Finally, everyone else had gone to bed. It was nearly three in the morning and they gathered in the family’s private living room, lounging in front of the fire.

Rita and Runt fell asleep on the rug; Nurse put a blanket over them. Scratchy was snoring in his chair and his awful toupee was starting to slip off his head. Yakko seriously considered snatching it and throwing it in the fire. He figured he’d be doing everyone a favour.

Pinky was nibbling on some cheese; Brain sipped at a cup of tea, his eyes drooping with exhaustion, but he stubbornly refused to sleep until the children did. He seemed to consider it a point of pride.

Wakko leaned against Yakko, eating the last of the cake almost lazily, humming under his breath. Yakko had hot chocolate with marshmallows, watching sleepily as Nurse checked everyone was comfortable. Dot had her head on his lap; she’d already finished her hot chocolate and set the empty cup aside, curling up small and holding onto Yakko’s hand.

Best birthday ever, Yakko thought.

And he said so. “Best birthday ever,” he said quietly. Nurse smiled at him, lightly poking him on the nose as she finally took a seat, putting a blanket over her legs.

“You deserve it,” she said quietly, so as not to wake Scratchy, Rita and Runt.

“You do,” Dot mumbled, her eyes closed.

Yakko squeezed her hand, wrapping his free arm around Wakko.

“Happy birthday,” Wakko said, closing his eyes.

“I love you guys.”

“Love you too,” Dot said, yawning. Wakko nodded in agreement, his ears flopping.

“We do,” Nurse said. “Very much.”

The best part was, Yakko believed them.

This time last year, he’d fallen asleep on a damp floor. This time last year, he’d been Elo, a boy with no true name and no memories. He’d had only his necklace, his fairytale book and his persistent hope that he’d find his family.

And he had.

Surrounded by his family, safe and warm in his home, certain of who he was, Yakko finally let his eyes drift shut, his siblings’ new song echoing in his ears.

Happy birthday to me.

Curled up together, Yakko, Wakko and Dot finally fell asleep.

Home at last.

“I hope that you spend your days, but they all add up; and when that sun goes down, hope you raise your cup. Oh, oh, I wish that I could witness all your joy and all your pain. But until my moment comes, I'll say I- I did it all. I- I did it all! I owned every second that this world could give, I saw so many places; the things that I did! Yeah, with every broken bone, I swear I lived.” - I Lived, OneRepublic