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There are humans in the desert.
This has been an increasing incident in the past couple of weeks, but with the trial over, the Road Runner thought that the peaceful, still air of the empty desert might return. As peaceful and still as it can be with the constant goings-on of him and his Coyote, at least.
The Road Runner darts closer to get a better look, keeping far enough away not to be spotted, and watches. The humans are in a small group and seem agitated, dumping something on the ground before returning to their silly dark cars and driving away. The Road Runner is glad for them to be gone.
He speeds even closer still, trying to see what exactly they left behind in their desert territory, only to find it’s not a what, but a who. Curious, the Road Runner stops just a few feet away from the abandoned human and tilts his head. The human doesn’t move. The Road Runner wonders if this is a trap, as if these nasty ACME humans in their dark clothes and stupid technology think he has any interest in entertaining a game that isn’t from his Coyote.
But this human isn’t the darkly colored, well-pressed suit of those pompous idiots. He wears a dark brown suit and a deep red tie that reminds him so much of his Coyote. He steps closer. He leans down into the human’s face, who still remains motionless on the dusty road, and realizes this is the lawyer that Wile E. enlisted to help him. While Road Runner did not appreciate Wile E. being so rudely ripped away from him in the first place and their chase interrupted, he understands that this is the human that brought his dear Coyote back to him.
There’s more red staining the human’s form, not just the deep rich red of his tie, but an unsightly bright red that drips down from his hairline. The Road Runner twitches from having been in the place for too long. Well then, if this really is the lawyer that helped out his dear Coyote, then it’s only fair to help him in return. Road Runner doesn’t particularly care for humans, and their feelings seem mutual, so he tends to stay away from human affairs, but this is an exception. Besides, it seems like this human needs some extra looking after. He grabs the collar of the suit coat in his beak and begins to gently drag the lawyer back with him to somewhere safe and out of the sun. He knows just the place.
The desert feels particularly suffocating when forced to go at such a slow pace, but he knows that humans are fragile and isn’t interested in hurting this one even more. Though… He stops, evaluating the limp human again. Perhaps dragging him across the ground isn’t very good for delicate humans either. His feathers ruffle in frustration as the urge to protect this human rises within him. He squishes that feeling down and readjusts until he gets the human draped across his back. He will still have to go slow like this, but Wile E.'s cave isn’t far, so he sets off once more, one slow footstep in front of another.
He pretends that it’s just the slow pace that makes him antsy.
He beeps out a greeting when he reaches the cave, the shade from the rocks cooling them already. He’s careful to slide the human gently onto the floor, looking him over for any new damage, but finds none. Relief courses through him as Wile E. appears from the depths of the cave. His Coyote is smart; he’ll know what to do.
Wile E. stops in his tracks upon spotting them, glancing between him and the human on the floor, before holding up a sign that simply states, "What happened?” Something in the way it’s written gives the statement a slight tinge of hysteria.
The Road Runner beeps again and holds up a sign of his own. “Other humans dropped him at the edge of our desert territory.” The sign flips. “Thought you could help.”
Wile E.’s face grows dark for a moment, vicious and upset, and Road Runner is just glad he’s not the only one who got so protective of the human. Wile E. had more time to get acquainted with the lawyer, but Road Runner is friends with Wile E., and the lawyer is Wile E.’s human friend, so the Road Runner mentally adds him as a part of their little flock without really meaning to. It’s frustrating to look after someone so easy to harm, after decades of just the invincible two of them, but somehow, the human fits in nicely. Road Runner should really learn his name.
Wile E. gets to work in a flurry of motion, and the Road Runner takes a moment to admire his speed as the lawyer gets moved to a couch that wasn’t there moments prior. A soft cloth wipes away the bright trail of red, and the Coyote evaluates the human for other injuries. A glass of water appears on a small table that had been dragged across the room, and Wile E. is left standing next to the still human by the time the Road Runner feels the urge to move become unbearable.
He darts across the room even though it’s a short distance and kind of wants to do a few laps around the desert to get his pent-up energy out after being so contentious for so long. Only, the idea of leaving them here alone is just unsettling enough to keep him in place despite the fact that it would only take a few seconds.
He beeps questioningly at Wile E., wanting to know if he thinks their human friend is okay. Wile E. just nudges the human gently. Nothing happens for a moment, but eventually he stirs, eyes fluttering open and squinting up at the ceiling like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on. He opens his mouth to say something, but breaks out into a fit of coughs, and Wile E. shoves the glass in his hand, helping him sit up slightly.
“Thanks, Wile E.” The human says hoarsely after a few sips and then freezes, turning to look at him as if seeing him for the first time. “Wile E.? What are you doing here?”
Wile E. stares at him for a moment, unimpressed, and holds up a sign. “It’s the desert. I live here.”
The human seems confused. “The desert?” He glances around, taking in the sight of Wile E.’s cave, as if truly processing where he was. His gaze lands on the Road Runner. “Oh, I didn’t hallucinate the bright blue bird. Good to know.”
Wile E. scrounges around for the sign Road Runner had earlier. “Other humans dropped him at the edge of our desert territory.” He shows the sign, pointing at the word “him” before pointing at the human.
“Wow, I knew not everyone likes what we’re doing, but that seems a bit extreme.” The human says, explaining nothing. He reaches up and clutches at his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, only opening them again when he hears Wile E. tapping. It’s another reused sign from earlier.
“What happened?” The sign reads.
The Road Runner leans a little closer, curious for the explanation. Sure, humans and Toons don’t always get along, but they tend to avoid each other if that’s the case, so there’s usually not a lot of harm. And if Toons have problems with each other, genuinely so, then they can recover almost immediately if violence is inflicted. But humans hurting other humans—well, Road Runner knows it happens, but the idea of it seems silly, knowing harm is more long-term. He almost can’t wrap his mind around it. He’s never really thought about it before because he’s never had a reason to, but it wouldn’t be good for one of his flock to come to harm.
“Oh, well,” the human begins kinda nervously, like admitting something he hadn’t really wanted to. Wile E. watches him through narrowed eyes as the human talks to the warm glass of water in his hands. “We’re obviously doing a lot more cases against ACME, bigger cases with lots of evidence, and a corporation like that isn’t going down without a fight. And they have a lot of influence and a lot of people that would do a lot of things to keep it from crashing to the ground, and I guess they figured if our law firm stopped suing them, they could eventually sweep it all under the rug.”
Wile E. shakes the “What happened?” sign aggressively, wanting more of the story. The Road Runner shakes out his feathers with anxiety and dread. The lawyer glances up at them and then back down at the glass, mumbling a little as he takes a sip.
“Well, someone on ACME’s side wanted to have a talk, and it ended up not really being a talk, I guess.”
Road Runner can put the pieces together, and Wile E. has too, evidenced by him throwing the sign down in obvious anger, crossing his arms, and shaking with rage. The lawyer tries to placate them, stuttering something about how Wile E. already knew someone named Paige dealt with a bomb while researching Project Sisyphus and something else about a tunnel and a train. Road Runner decides he actually can’t stay in this one place any longer and darts out of the cave, making a few laps around the desert for any signs of other humans. He makes it back to the refreshing coolness of his Coyote’s cave in mere seconds, finding no other sign of evil human activity and feeling reassured, despite his lingering distaste for the humans that did this to their friend.
“Flight Risk.” Wile E.'s sign reads, explaining the Road Runner's abrupt departure and re-entry to the lawyer. The Road Runner beeps indignantly. He’s not a flight risk; he’s hyperactive and also looking out for their flock. They should be grateful, if anything, that he can do it so efficiently.
“Right. No worries," the lawyer reassures. “I don’t think we’ve met.” He immediately backtracks, stumbling over his words. “I mean, of course we have because I questioned you in front of Congress, and that was really great, actually. Thanks for showing up for that, but, like, officially.” He clears his throat a little, seeming to have worked himself up. “I’m Kevin Avery.”
The Road Runner beeps and bobs his head slightly.
“Yeah,” Kevin says with a small grin. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Are you okay?” The Road Runner asks with a sign of his own. He makes a gesture with his wing, motioning to his head.
“Oh, fine.” Kevin dismisses. “Just a bad headache; I don’t think I have a concussion or anything. I think they meant to strand me, more than anything. I don’t have a car and…” He pulls a device out of his pocket. “No cell service in the desert.” He grins back up at them in a way the Road Runner thinks is supposed to be reassuring. “It’ll be a long walk for me, I guess.”
He starts to shift, like he’s going to stand up, but it’s immediately obvious he’s unsteady on his feet, and Wile E. pushes him back down onto the couch. “Stay.” A hastily made sign gets shoved into Kevin’s face. When it’s apparent he won’t try to stand again, Wile E. adds to it. “Rest.” And on the other side. “Go in the morning.”
“Are you sure?” Kevin asks.
Wile E. makes another sign. “Humans are fragile.”
“Hey,” Kevin whines as Road Runner beeps in agreement. Wile E. rolls his eyes.
“Not like Toons.” He clarifies.
“Well, not all of us can be invincible.” Kevin grumbles, but concedes the point as Wile E. points at “Fragile” again. “Fine. I resent being called fragile, but I’ll stay until my headache clears. We can figure out something in the morning.”
Road Runner grins a little as Wile E.’s eyes light up at the idea of making a plan, but Kevin seems too tired or too out of it to notice. He just lies back down on the couch, shutting his eyes, glad to give his aching head a rest. The Road Runner stares at the human for a moment, debating whether he should go even if he wants to watch over their vulnerable friend, but Wile E. just nudges one of the discarded signs closer to him.
The hastily made “Stay. Rest.” sign lies on the floor in front of him, and he glances up at his Coyote, his chest bursting with warmth as Wile E. pretends to be unbothered. He beeps quietly, trying not to disturb Kevin, and darts over, nuzzling him briefly before settling purposely next to the couch. His Coyote seems overwhelmed, and if the Road Runner does say so himself, a little flustered, a smug feeling settling in the bird’s chest. Content with having his flock all in one place, new member included, the Road Runner prepares for a night watching over them both. After all, they’ll deal with the rest in the morning.