Chapter Text
1992:
Tweety knew something was going on.
His owner, Dr. Lorre was rushing about, hurrying in a way he had never done before. All Tweety could do was watch from his cage, gripping the bars tightly as he saw Dr Lorre grab a Toon paintbrush and quickly paint a portable tunnel before dashing inside of it. Whatever he was doing, it appeared urgent.
“Dr. Lorre!” He called after the scientist. “What are you doing?” Whatever was going on, he wanted to help. He could help! He had skills! He could do it!
The scientist suddenly tumbled from the tunnel, immediately sucking it up with a vacuum cleaner. “I need to get a message out!” He poured the painted contents of the tunnel into a paint bucket, continuing with, “I know too much. They’re not going to let us be!” He hurriedly slammed the container lid on the bucket before placing the bucket into a box and closing it up. “I am sending for help.” With that, he stamped a ‘RUSH’ sticker on the box, before walking over to Tweety. A tender, worried gaze filled his eyes as he stared at the canary.
“Everything is going to be okay my little Tweety,” Dr Lorre assured. “I promise.” With that, he covered Tweety’s cage with the covering, blocking Tweety’s view of the world. The canary could hear Dr. Lorre’s hurried footsteps as he walked away and then out of the room altogether.
Now unable to see the world outside, Tweety sat back down on his perch, wringing his wings together. He hoped that wherever Dr. Lorre was going, he would make it. No, he knew he would make it. Dr Lorre was one of the smartest, most careful people that Tweety had known. There was no possibility that he would get caught!
The message, whatever it was, would be sent. Tweety could tell.
Just as he began to slightly relax though, alarms began ringing throughout the entire factory. Tweety’s eyes widened, and he hurriedly flew to the front of his cage. He tried lifting the covering himself, but could only manage to lift up a quarter. All he could see were the boots of several guards…and they were running in the direction Tweety heard Dr. Lorre had gone.
No, no, no! He had to get out there! He needed to help! Dr. Lorre needed him!
Grabbing a stray piece of the cloth, he pulled as hard as he could. The covering slowly slid off the cage, eventually falling to the side. Okay, now he just needed to unlock his cage door and…
Suddenly, all of the alarms just…stopped. Tweety, unsure of what that meant but hoping for the best, felt his heart begin to lift. Did he do it? Did Dr. Lorre get away? Did…
New footsteps, large loud ones, entered his line of hearing. Tweety looked up and saw a large rooster approaching, a smile on his face. Tweety’s guard instantly went up. He didn’t like that smile. Not one bit.
He wasn’t dumb. He knew exactly who this rooster was. Foghorn Leghorn. Executive of ACME. The one who had been pushing for increasingly dangerous tests on the Toons that worked here. The one who didn’t seem to care what happened to anyone, so long as the company made a profit.
“What’s going on?” Tweety tried his best to look defiant, narrowing his eyes as he stared the rooster head on. He hid the feeling of the slight waver in his voice, the feeling of wanting to shrink under Foghorn’s gaze as he asked “Where’s Dr. Lorre?”
At the mention of Dr. Lorre, Foghorn narrowed his eyes and smiled even FURTHER, leaning down with his hands clasped behind his back. “Ah, your precious, I say, your precious Dr. Lorre’s been…relocated.” Tweety felt his heart drop. R-relocated? He knew what that meant. EVERYONE at ACME did.
No, no, no!
Foghorn reached his hands out to the cage, causing Tweety to back up, clutching his hands together and looking at the rooster in fear. “Heh, heh. You’re under new management, birdie.” The rooster opened the cage door, scooping Tweety into his hand. “And let me, I say, let me tell ya…you’re a special one.”
Tweety felt a red hot anger surge within him. Oh, he’d show this rooster how special he was alright! He pecked as hard as he could at the rooster’s hand, causing the large cockstrel to let out a sharp yelp of pain and let go of Tweety.
“I’ll never work for you!” Tweety shouted, glaring. Foghorn only rolled his eyes at this paltry show of defiance, quickly grabbing Tweety in his hand before he could even attempt flying away and roughly threw him back in the cage. Tweety's head hit the back of the cage harshly, causing dark spots to cloud his vision for a few brief moments.
“You don’t have a choice son,” Foghorn sneered. He traced the cage bars, looking off to the side as a wicked look came onto his face. “And if you don’t do what I say, well…I know a couple of friends who’d be MORE than happy to take care of that old lady and her cat as well. Dr. Lorre ain’t the only one we can make disappear.”
Tweety’s face paled completely, pure, absolute horror twisting in his gut. No, NO! He wouldn’t let him! He couldn’t! He couldn’t! He had already lost Dr. Lorre! He couldn’t lose Granny and Sylvester as well!
“DON’T HURT THEM, PLEASE!” Tweety yelled, flying to the front of the cage and grasping the bars wildly. “I’ll do anything! Just leave them alone!”
“Good.” Foghorn’s hand left the cage, reaching through the cage bars and putting a finger under Tweety’s chin. Tweety tried to jerk away, only for another one of Foghorn’s fingers to get past the bars and forcefully lift Tweety’s face up. “You got, I say, you got some skills that’ll be VERY useful out on the field, boy. And believe me…I don’t expect a single failure from you.” Letting go of the bird, he snapped his fingers, two guards near instantly appearing at the rooster’s side. “Escort I say, escort the bird to his new quarters.” He turned around, his back facing Tweety, but turned his head around to give the bird a small, mocking smile. “Pleasure doing business with you son.”
As each of the guards grabbed one side of the cage and lifted it up, taking him to what he assumed would be his new living space, Tweety huddled in on himself, crying his eyes out.
He would never see his family again.
…Never see Sylvester again…
Meanwhile, in the suburbs of the city, Sylvester stared at the empty cage in the middle of the room that usually held his long desired lunch. He didn’t like admitting this, not even to himself, but he was growing…worried. He could almost laugh at himself now. Worry? For Tweety?
But Tweety was NEVER gone this long. He would always stick around, singing that same old song and that same old ‘I tawt I taw a puddy tat!” While Sylvester knew Tweety had gone in to work today with Dr. Lorre… neither had come back yet.
“Oh dear, they’re not usually this late…” Granny murmured, looking out the window for any sign of her beloved husband and their pet bird, hoping that at any minute they would both walk down the patio and enter their house. She turned to Sylvester, noticing his concerned expression and putting an optimistic smile on her face. “But don’t worry, Sylvester! I’m sure they’ll come any minute now.”
Sylvester padded over to her, allowing himself to be petted and stroked. However, even with her comfort and optimism, he wasn't completely sure. He could only hope that Granny was right. She usually was.
Dr. Lorre…and Tweety, ESPECIALLY Tweety, the cat reminded himself…would come back.
Then things would go back to normal.
They always did.
So really, what was there to worry about? Sylvester honestly didn’t know WHY he was getting so worried. Tweety and Dr. Lorre knew what they were doing. They were smart! And capable, perfectly capable. Tweety especially wouldn't let anything happen to either of them.
…But even so, a part of Sylvester deep down told him that something terrible had happened.
—-
1997:
Tweety hated it here.
He really, truly did.
Over the course of the last few months, ACME had seen fit to “re-use” Tweety’s specialized abilities and skills for something else entirely. Instead of helping to make new products with the rest of the (now former) Project Sisyphus scientists, Tweety had been directed to sabotage any of the rare companies that managed to compete directly with ACME.
Tweety isn't broken however. He was still his own bird. He fought every single step of the way.
Escape attempts became common from him. Every window, every vent, every pipe had to be tightly sealed because of how often Tweety tried to smuggle through. Sometimes, Tweety made it as far as five miles before he was found. Each and every time, he was brought back, kicking and screaming. Each and every time, they punished him further.
Two goons, Rocky and Mugsy, are in charge of punishing him when that happens. They take pleasure--well at least Rocky does, Mugsy seems to think it's all a game--in hurting the canary, beating him until he can barely stand.
Eventually, they assign him a "handler" to keep him under control. A bleached blonde man named Talon. Tweety instantly hates him. Talon doesn't speak, but his actions--constantly touching Tweety, making sure he doesn't stray far from him--say enough.
The escape attempts don't stop though. Then again, neither do the threats to Granny and Sylvester. It's to the point where he overhears Rocky and Mugsy being assigned to "keep an eye" on Granny and Sylvester.
Tweety knew the only reason they hadn't gotten rid of him was that he was good at his job. Very good in fact. So good to the point they approached him one day, saying that he had just been given a “promotion” in their words.
Tweety already didn’t like how that sounded at all.
He was led by a guard into a completely bare room, stripped of almost all furniture and only a single light fixture hanging above. In the center was a toon cat, throughly tied up and gagged. Upon seeing Tweety, he began to cry out muffled calls for help.
"W-what is this?" Tweety murmured, flying backwards. His back accidentally bumped into something hard, causing him to turn around and see a man with a blue suit and bolo tie standing behind him. Tweety wasn't dumb. He knew who this was.
Buddy Crane. Chief legal counsel of ACME. Known to other workers as Foghorn's second in command. Tweety didn't know why he was here. He never liked interacting with any Toons aside from Foghorn himself. So to see him HERE felt...wrong.
"This is going to be how you prove your loyalty to the company," Buddy smiled. A deep, dark, menacing smile, He leaned his head over the side where Tweety was, holding his hands behind his back. "You are loyal to the company, are you? If you're not...well, I'd truly hate to see any "accidents."
Tweety couldn't find any words to respond. Buddy smiled even further at this, pressing a button on the side of the room. Talon came in, holding a large cartoon gun. The canary tried to give it back only to have it suddenly shoved in his hands. He looks up at Buddy, confusion in his gaze.
"We already got all we wanted out of him," Buddy gestures to the Toon cat, who is still struggling to free himself of his bonds. "Now all that's left for you to do is finish the job."
Tweety's eyes widen as he picks up what the man is implying. He wants him...wants him to...
The cat can see Tweety's hesitance, desperately pleading with him through the use of his eyes. He softly mumbles through his gag, feeling growing relief at the thought that someone in this godforsaken facility actually has a heart. As for Tweety, this cat, with his own green eyes and black and white fur, reminded him so much of Tweety's own Puddy Tat...his Sylvester. What if....what if that cat were Sylvester himself?
He couldn't bear the thought if it were.
He can't do this.
"No." Tweety whispers softly, staring down at the gun, then the cat, in fear. “I…I can’t…”
Buddy's smile darkens. He suddenly lunges and grabs Tweety, squeezing him so tightly it causes the bird's eyes to pop out in pain. “Do. It.” He snarls, more animal than man. "Or else your precious Granny and that cat you're so fond of take this one's place." He lets go of Tweety suddenly, causing the bird to nearly stumble about in the air. In his desperation he turns to Talon, hoping for some protest against this, any sort of support. But all he gets is a stoic stare.
There's really no way out of this, isn't there?
Tweety lifts up the gun unsteadily, doing his best to aim. Upon seeing this, the cat's eyes widen and he screams behind his gag, now completely thrashing in his binds. Tweety almost puts the gun down at the sight of this until a glare from Buddy has him lifting it up again.
With a soft "I'm sorry," he fires the gun.
It hits the cat right between the eyes.
The cat goes completely still, his thrashing suddenly ceasing completely. His head whips back and he falls backward, green ooze mixing in with ink that sprays from the back of head. And Tweety is left holding the smoking gun, staring in true, abject horror. The gun he fired. The gun he used to end someone-a fellow Toon--for good.
He has no idea what was in that gun. No idea what could possibly have been used to kill--permanently kill--Toons. But he knows if ACME could develop one way to to end Toons for good...they'll be sure to develop even more.
Buddy, seeing the results of Tweety's handiwork, smiles down at Tweety, teeth glinting in the dim lighting. "You did well. I look forward to seeing what else you're capable of." He and Talon walk out of the room, not bothering to look back at the devastated canary.
Now left completely alone, the gun slips from Tweety's hands as Tweety drops to the floor, a single tear falling out of his eyes.
-
It had been five years and fifteen hours to the dot since Dr. Lorre and...and... Tweety...had vanished. Sylvester had been keeping track of the exact time since that day. That awful, horrible day. Because really, what else was he supposed to do?
In the first three days Tweety was gone, Sylvester had convinced himself this was all a big elaborate joke. Tweety would walk through that door at any moment with Dr. Lorre, joyfully teasing the cat about his failure to catch him. Their chase would resume. Granny would smack him with the broom. Normal. How he wished things were normal now.
In the first week Tweety was gone, he tried to chase other birds around the neighborhood...but it wasn't the same. None of them gave him the thrill he had with Tweety, the challenge, the verbal sparring. They all had the same reaction: squawk in fear and instantly try to fly away. After the end of the first week, Sylvester had stopped chasing after them completely now. Easy pickings, all of them.
In the first month Tweety was gone, Sylvester created little one or two little effigies of Tweety, pretending that they were Tweety themselves. He would talk to them, tell them about his day, and pretend to try and chase them around the house. Unfortunately, effigies can't walk or talk like the real deal can.
In the first year Tweety was gone...that's when hope began to fade. At least for one of them.
You see, when a Toon is missing for a week or even a few months, they could write it off. Toons were known for vanishing for some periods of time...only to suddenly come back fine as a fiddle. The police never took those cases seriously. Just toons being toons, they'd write it off as.
But as the first year hit....horrible thoughts began to plague his mind, though he tried his best to push them away. When a Toon is missing for a a year or longer, especially one as sharp and smart as Tweety Bird...people tend to assume the worst. Police stop their half-hearted looking, if they even bother to look at all.
Sylvester had always been stubborn though. Years of trying to eat the same bird could testify to that. In the first few months of the first year, he had refused to accept Tweety could just...be gone like that. Tweety was strong. One of the most smartest and skilled people he knew. No way Tweety would let anything happen to himself or Dr. Lorre.
But as time slowly drag on by, and then two, then three, then four and five years pass, Sylvester slowly starts to lose that hope. He hates himself for it. Hates that the hope fades a little more every single day.
What...what if Tweety really was gone?
No, he couldn't accept that. Wouldn't accept that. His heart refused to.
Granny tried to keep a smile. Tried to keep spirits up. She insisted Dr. Lorre would come back. And that Tweety would follow soon too.
....But even she couldn't keep it up forever. As the years passed by, her smiles began to fade. Her words of hope began to diminish in frequency.
It wasn't long before one day, when she went out for the first time in five years. Sylvester was suspicious. Where was she going? Was she looking for them herself?
What if she went missing as well?
Sylvester really doesn't think he'd be able to go on if Granny was gone too.
After an hour, she came back eventually...thankfully. She wasn't alone though.
In her hands, was a cage with a canary inside. A strained smile was on her face as she looked at Sylvester.
Sylvester couldn't believe his eyes. A canary. Granny came back with a canary. A REAL one. Not a Toon one like Tweety had been. A real canary. Alive and breathing and chirping oh so carelessly. Like it hadn't been bought to...to...
Sylvester couldn't believe the sight. After the initial surprise faded, red hot rage began to replace it.
Because...how dare she? How dare she try to have this...this intruder try to take Tweety's place?
He had hissed, he had snarled, he had screamed until there was nothing left. He refused to speak or even look at Granny for the rest of the day. Or the next.
....He didn't speak much to Granny at all nowadays. He couldn't bring himself to.
And yet as the days continued to slip away, Granny kept buying more and more canaries until the living room was filled with their incessant chirping. She never named them. Once, she accidentally called one of them 'Tweety' when the canary made too much noise. A brief look of anguish passed on her face before she waved it off and put on that same, empty smile.
Sylvester didn’t care. Not anymore.
These canaries weren’t Tweety.
None of them were.
----
2007:
Not much has changed for Tweety Bird since the night of his last escape attempt....the same night he killed someone for the first time.
Instead of just sabotage now, he has been personally ordered to take out any of ACME’s competition…or just anyone that happened to get in their way. Anytime he's given a task, Tweety follows without question.
They make clear what will happen if he doesn't. Rocky and Mugsy's constant presence outside of Granny's home make sure of that. His handler, he thinks with disgust...Talon, makes sure of that.
He can't bring it in himself to try and escape anymore. He hates himself for that even more. He hates how he's let himself be broken down like this.
It's not just killing they have him do. Sometimes, they have him make rounds around the factory in and out, checking for anything that's out of sorts. He is to report to Buddy directly if there's anything, and if those "out of sorts" are too much of a headache for Buddy to deal with...well, Tweety can take care of it himself, he reasons. That's what they have him for after all.
Tweety thinks of all the names and faces that he's made disappear. He hates that he's starting to forget. He really does. He tries to keep them alive in any way he can. He light candles in secrets, whispers their hopes and dreams on his tongue when no one's looking. But is it enough?
No, he bitterly thinks, it isn't. Not when he personally had a hand in what happened to them.
However, Tweety forgot that even in times of despair, there is still some hope to be found. Perhaps in places...or people...you least expect.
He's outside patrolling the factory one night when he sees it. A tunnel moving fast and quick towards the factory, too quick for the human eye to see. But not for a Toon.
Tweety instantly narrows his eyes and dives down, using his own talons to pull out a small strand of fur that's poking out from underneath the tunnel. He hears a small yelp of pain and sees the ACME spotlight turning their way. Thinking quick, he dives down himself underneath the tunnel, pushing the fur down before the ACME spotlight can catch both of them.
It's dark underneath. Tweety can't see a thing, he doesn't have night vision like Sylvester does. Thankfully, a small light is set between them, a match light to be specific, illuminating the darkness of the tunnel.
"Now what'd ya go and do THAT for?" a familiar voice says. Tweety looks up and sees none other than...
"B-Bugs?"
Bugs smiles humorlessly. "Ehhh, what's up Tweety?" He leans against the tunnel wall. "Never expected YOU of all people to turn traitor."
"I..." Tweety can't respond to that. Because Bugs is right, isn't he? He is a traitor. A forced traitor, but a traitor nonetheless. All the canary can ask is "what are you doing here?"
The smile vanishes. Bugs gets off the wall, staring directly at Tweety. "I think you know damn well what...well, who... I'm here for."
Tweety instantly understands. "You're here for Daffy."
"Heh. You always were quick on the uptake." Bugs strides past him, almost shoving in how forceful he is, how utterly fake his friendliness seems to be. That's how Tweety knows Bugs is beyond angry. "Now, if you'll excuse me...I got a duck I need to free and a corporation whose life I need to make harder."
The rabbit's almost completely vanished into the darkness when a small voice says "I'll help."
Bugs turns around, eyebrow raised and a suspicious look on his face as he glares at the canary. "You want to help?"
"Yes." Tweety confirms, tone stronger this time. And really, he's never been so sure of anything in his life. He's been so powerless for the past few years, so he'll take anything he can to take control back. Even if it's risky. Even if it gets him killed.
He doesn't care anymore.
Bugs stares at Tweety for a few seconds before a ghost of a smile makes its way onto his face. "Well...guess you ain't as spineless as I thought." Tweety doesn't say another word, flying in front of the rabbit to lead him straight into the heart of the factory.
Together, thanks to Bugs' sneakiness and Tweety's deep, insider knowledge of the factory interior, they manage to evade the guards and alarms entirely. Tweety brings Bugs to the rooms where they keep their "test subjects." He stops in front of a certain door, the one labelled 'D. DUCK." Using a single yellow feather, he unlocks the door and opens it.
And there Daffy is. He's still bouncing around the entire room, as nonsensical and wacky in the way that ACME had left him. A rare look of devastation briefly crosses Bugs' face as he gazes upon Daffy.
Tweety knows the feeling well.
Without a word, Bugs scoops the duck up in his arms. Daffy quiets at this, staring at Bugs in confusion. He FEELS like he should recognize the rabbit holding him....but his mind is drawing a complete blank.
"I'm here, Daff..." he murmurs into Daffy's feathers. "I'm sorry I was so late."
This is devastatingly touching and all, but they don't have much time. Tweety quickly flies to Bugs, urgently whispering into the rabbit's ear "We have to go NOW. They'll realize Daffy is loose soon enough." Bugs nods at the canary, gently setting Daffy down.
They sneak back through the factory, which is much harder than the first time when you have a duck that could go Looney at any moment. Tweety manages to keep Daffy from falling to pieces at the constant use of the word 'ACME' by singing soothing melodies, the same ones he would sing to Sylvester after the cat had a hard day. Daffy seems to listen, seems to like the songs he sings. If anything, it keeps the duck calm and compliant, which they REALLY need if they're going to make it out.
However, things begin to go VERY wrong VERY fast. Daffy sees a red button to the left and drawn to its big shininess, presses it HARD.
Alarms quickly blare throughout the building after that. Shouts began to fill the building as the guards realize what's going on. "Dammit..." Bugs mutters to himself, several other curse words on his tongue. He scoops Daffy up into his arms again, swiftly digging a hole and diving underneath.
Tweety doesn't follow them though. He has other business to attend to. He flies back to the rooms where the subjects are kept, pressing the button that opens all of them up. The doors all swing open, several Toons looking in confusion as they find their imprisonment suddenly gone.
"GO!" Tweety shouts. "RUN!"
They do. It's not quiet. It's a stampede. Things are broken, knocked over in their frantic haste. There is no chance for ACME not to find out out about their subjects being missing. Even so, Tweety manages to lead them through their factory, avoiding workers and guards alike as he leads them to a hidden EXIT door that only the most senior of ACME employees know about. He pushes them through, making sure each and every last one of them is out.
Tweety could use this opportunity to escape himself. He knows he could. But someone had to stay behind and make sure they don't go after everyone else.
His own penance for what he's done.
He quickly flies back to the factory center, where Buddy Crane is surveying the mess with several other escorts. He does not look happy at the mess the factory is in. He's even less happy at seeing Tweety himself upon noticing him.
"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Buddy Crane yells at the canary. "Why are most of our subjects gone?!"
Tweety knows he has to lie as convincingly as possible. He can't--he won't implicate anyone in his mess. "It wasn't my fault!" Tweety cries out, putting on his best innocent "poor me" gaze. "I tried to stop them, really I did, but I was knocked out and--"
Buddy doesn't care to hear the rest. He grabs Tweety and grips him hard, causing a pained gasp to be let out. "I don't care WHAT you did! The fact is our subjects are GONE and it's YOUR fault you let them escape!" He hands Tweety over to Talon, who is standing nearby. "Take him to Rocky and Mugsy. They'll straighten him out."
Tweety's eyes widen and he begins to thrash in Talon's grip. He tries pecking. He tries squirming. It's no use though. He's carried off to an awaiting Rocky and Mugsy, who are all too happy to see him again in the worst ways possible.
The vicious beating they both left on him is one that stays with Tweety for a LONG while.
At the very least, Tweety takes a bit of pride in the fact that everyone's out. Bugs has probably hidden Daffy away, making sure that ACME can't get to him again. Good.
Bugs thankfully hasn't completely left Tweety out to dry since that night. He still keeps in contact with Tweety, sending coded letters and asking for Tweety to be his eyes on the inside. Tweety naturally accepts. Anything to take ACME down. Anything to be free himself.
He records bits and pieces of information, sending them to Bugs whenever he can. The tapes grow slowly and steadily over the course of the next few years. Hopefully, Bugs can one day make a case with them.
But the letters grow less and less in frequency. Eventually, they stop altogether. Tweety knows what this meant. ACME has either caught up to Bugs or Bugs has had to go into hiding. He hopes, no, he fully believes its the latter. Bugs was always too tricky of a Toon to fully take down.
He just wishes he could say the same for himself.
---
It's been fifteen years since Tweety and Dr. Lorre vanished. Fifteen years since everything changed for the worst.
Sylvester's corner of the room is now covered with drawings, portraits, and other mementos of Tweety. It clutters up a LOT admittedly but he can't bring himself to get rid of any of them.
Not when it's the only things he has to remind himself of Tweety.
He and Granny still don't say much to each other. What is there to say? Nothing. Not when several canaries now fill the living room, all trying and yearning to take Tweety's place. Sylvester hates each and every one of them. They don't even deserve his attention....even though deep down, he knows it's not their fault.
Granny still has hope that Dr. Lorre will come back. She makes comments about how he'll hear him playing piano again. Yet she says nothing of Tweety himself.
That angers Sylvester more than the canaries honestly. How can she believe that Dr. Lorre is still out there....but not Tweety? He views it as a betrayal.
He climbs up to the window. He sees a few stray birds flying about. For a brief moment, he sees Tweety to be among them, laughing and happy and free like he always had been.
....But even Sylvester knows better than that. His head hangs low and he drops his face into his palms. Just another hallucination.
Taking his head out of his hands, he briefly sees a shooting star pass by in the night sky. A rare sight. Now, Sylvester doesn't believe in wishing. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
So he closes his eyes and makes a wish.
I wish Tweety and Dr. Lorre would come back.
And he can't help but add:
...I wish I could tell Tweety how much I loved him.
---
2022:
Tweety's been here for thirty years now. And he's honestly beginning to lose sight of himself. Who he is. What he once stood for.
Every face became a colorless blur in his mind. Every name became something forgotten. ACME jokes about him constantly. How he'll do anything to please them. That angers Tweety like never before. But really, what else is there to do? He has no choice or say in what he wants anymore. Not if he wanted Granny and Sylvester…he couldn’t bear to finish the rest. He couldn’t let whatever happened to Dr. Lorre happen to them. He wouldn’t. Not as long as he was still alive.
It isn't long before he's given a new mission. Some...wolf? Coyote? It doesn't matter, what does matter is that he's suing ACME for everything they've got. He's teamed up with some small law firm, and somehow, they're actually uncovering the details behind Project Sisyphus.
Tweety secretly roots for them all the way. If anything, maybe they'll find out what happened to Dr. Lorre in the process.
Even so, he and Talon have been sent to make sure they don't uncover any more details. They're waiting in the car, watching the lawyer and his accomplice...Paige, Tweety recalls, he thinks she's a relative of the lawyer, discuss what Project Sisyphus might mean.
Tweety is playing games on his phone, trying his best to avoid having to call Buddy...but a glare from Talon forces him to go to his contact list and press Buddy's name on his phone.
"What?" Buddy asks as soon as the call is picked up.
"Boss, I think they're onto us." Is all he says before he purposefully ends the call.
As soon as the call ended, Tweety looks up at Talon, who continues to glare at him.
Tweety shudders and looks away, trying to avoid Talon's piercing gaze. It's times like this he wishes Sylvester were here. At least the cat knew how to have a conversation, even during the times he was trying to eat him.
--
There's someone else in the house, Sylvester notes. Another person for the first time in...how many years? Thirty? Thirty five? Sylvester's stopped keeping track honestly.
She's young and hopeful, and Sylvester finds that he can't bring himself to care all that much. She says her name is Paige Avery. And that she's looking for information on Dr. Lorre.
Sylvester has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Hmph. Of course. Of course that's who she's looking for. Dr. Lorre was always the important one. Always the one people wanted to know more about.
He loves Dr. Lorre, really he does...but why does everybody always ask about him? What about Tweety? Isn't he just as important?
He makes a Tweety bust sculpture out of the litterbox, carefully adding to it and making sure it doesn't fall apart. He feels Paige looking at him strangely. Let her look. If she doesn't have any information on Tweety, then he doesn't want anything to do with her.
Granny leads Paige downstairs, their voices fading in the distance.
Sylvester can't bring it in himself to follow.
---
It's the next day. He and ACME are in the desert now, and Tweety absolutely HATES it here. He wants nothing more than to GO HOME.
He knows they're doing an impossible task. He knows what will happen if they try to catch THE Road Runner of all people. Road Runner does NOT take it kindly when people encroach on his territory. And he knows Road Runner would likely be worried sick about Wile E. Even so, he pretends he's happy to be here, pretends that he is all for what they're about to do.
“Release the payload!" he yells as they discharge a giant bag of seeds onto the glue trap they've prepared. As the finishing touch, Tweety flies up to the massive mountain of seeds and places a small "Free" sign on top.
He sighs as he flies back down, grabbing a pair of binoculars from his hammerspace and scanning the open road for any sign of Road Runner.
"Hello," he mutters to himself as he finally spots the roadrunner.
This is going to go SO well, he notes sarcastically to himself.
Sure enough....things almost immediately fall into chaos. Road Runner, instantly sensing this trap is NOT from Wile E and seeing the camera, speeds off through the glue and straight at the humans, causing several not so accidental explosions. A helicopter explodes and crashes on the ground. Tweety is knocked out of the air and into the glue itself.
“Retreat! Retreat!” he yells into the walkie talkie, trying his best to get out of the glue. With all the birds flying around him and the pandemonium, he doesn't notice that without warning, a familiar shadow falls over him.
Tweety instantly feels complete dread as he feels eyes boring into his back. He knows who this is. And how he is NOT happy. Not at all.
Before he can try to get away, he feels himself being picked up by a beak via his neck feathers. He is instantly sped off to an empty part of the desert and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground. Tweety tries to fly, but a claw on his neck stops him before he can even make it off the ground.
Tweety looks up to see the enraged face of Road Runner. His smile is gone, a dark cloud storming his face. "Why are you here?" Road Runner grits out, foregoing the signs and the 'Beep Beeps' now that there's no humans around. He's furious and angry and wants nothing more than answers. Especially ones as to where a certain coyote has gone. Tweety knows with certainty that if he doesn't give anything satisfying, he's going to die.
Though that thought doesn't feel as dreadful as it used to anymore. After thirty years of being ACME's forced hitman, ending and disappearing so many lives all for the sake of ACME's profit, he might as well welcome it.
The rage and the hate and the sadness that he's had to keep hidden bubbles up until he finally can't hold it in anymore. "I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE!" Tweety cries out. "If it were my choice, I'd be back at home!" Tears start streaming down his face, and his breathing grows heavy. "You can do what you want to me! I don't care anymore!"
He breaks down, sobbing. He meant what he said. He really doesn’t care anymore. He’s tired. He’s done. He hates himself. The only regrets he has is that he never got to sing one more song with Granny. Or make more projects with Dr. Lorre. Or tell Sylvester that he...he...
Road Runner's eyes widened at the full breakdown of his target. It's clear that the roadrunner is COMPLETELY unprepared for a response of this magnitude. He doesn't know what to do. He's not good at comforting and he doesn't think empty words will help either. Carefully, he lets go of Tweety's neck, the canary surprised at the lack of weight pressing down on him now. He sits up, tears still streaming as he looks up at the roadrunner and gingerly rubs his neck.
"Y-you're letting me go?" He asks, voice wavering.
Road Runner lets out a soft sigh, pulling out a sign. "YOU HAVE SOMEONE TOO." Roadie flips the sign over. DON'T YOU?
He did, didn't he? Only unlike Road Runner, Tweety isn't sure if he'll ever see him again. "Y-yes." Tweety admits. "If I don't do what they say, they might...they might..." Tweety is unable to finish the sentence.
Roadie thinks about this for a moment. "I CAN'T HELP YOU." He signs in admittance before flipping the sign over. "BUT I KNOW SOMEONE WHO CAN." Roadie lets out a small smile as he pulls out another sign. JUST KEEP YOUR HOPE UP. He lets out a cheerful 'Beep Beep!' before speeding off into the desert, a cloud of dust trailing after him.
When the dust faded, Tweety was left alone, wondering about what Road Runner meant. Keep his hope up? How?
Unless...
Tweety sighs to himself as Talon's car approaches him. He really hopes Road Runner's right. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.