Chapter Text
It all happened– like most of their encounters– very fast.
Wile E. and his Road Runner (His? Their relationship had certainly shifted but they weren't exclusive like that... were they?) continued the chase every day, without fail, after the court case. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise. Kevin Avery was right; Sisyphus remained ever-determined to reach the top of the mountain, even without ACME products.
The coyote could practically feel the bird’s feathers beneath his paw pads. They were racing along a familiar cliff and gathering of rocks, but Road Runner seemed to almost be… taunting his rival with his speed. Not by going faster, but by slowing down and staying just out of Wile E.’s grasp.
This damn bird…
The mammal sneered, reaching his arms out further, internally groaning at the extra stretch of barely-there muscle. Sure, he was a predator- but he was scrawny from the lack of actual hunting. He had been too occupied with catching Road Runner for over 70 years to actually, well, prey on anything else of substance. He got by on lizards, bugs, and other easy-to-catch desert creatures, telling himself he’d remain satisfied with that until catching his ultimate prize.
Which was so… close…
Until a clumsy gathering of medium-sized rocks met a set of cartoon avian talons, slipping underneath him and sending him tumbling down the cliff’s side.
Wile E. had just enough time to avoid the danger, for once, but not enough to catch Beep Beep. Skidding to a halt, he watched as the gangly bird rolled to the bottom, some of the rocks rolling with him, and fell to the ground a good fifty feet below with a bellowing, uncharacteristically pained “BEEP!”
It should have been all well and fine. They were cartoons, after all. Any injuries sustained easily repaired themselves almost immediately, or at least by the next day.
But the Road Runner was NOT well and fine.
As soon as he glanced down and saw a pool of red, Coyote felt ill.
What just happened, why is he bleeding, no…
Without properly assessing his own actions, Wile E. rushed down the cliff, nearly slipping himself in the process. The sight below was… unbelievable.
His Road Runner laid on the hard ground, orange dirt coating the ends of his feathers from where he’d taken some of the impact. Most of his body seemed to be in fine shape, if not shaken up a bit from the sudden tumble.
Of course, other than his right leg, which had been painfully snapped at the knee, exposing bone and flesh.
The coyote felt bile rise in his throat at the sight. He was just a few feet away from the other creature, who did not seem to notice him.
The pitiful blue bird winced as he shifted, tears gathering at the corner of his large, expressive eyes.
“B-beep…”
Shit.
Wile E. had never wanted to eat the Road Runner less than in that moment.
It… it just didn’t seem fair!
Their chases never ended like this. Never. Not even before Coyote vs ACME changed things forever. Now that they were… friends…(?) it felt impossible to even consider! At least while his friend(?) was hurt.
“Beep! Beep!”
Another unfamiliar cry escaped Beep Beep’s beak. He was undoubtedly in excruciating pain. As he finally registered his company’s presence, the Road Runner put on an absolutely pitiful expression, tears falling down his feathered face onto the ground.
Wile E. wanted to puke, and scream, and run away.
He’d never, ever seen the other desert dweller like this, or even close to it. The damned creature was always smiling and teasing, with his tongue out and his blue plumage shaking. Always.
This… this was dire.
But he was a genius! Yes! He’d figure out how to help his… friend(?). He had to.
He quickly pulled out a sign, showing it to the Road Runner, making sure he read it.
[ HOLD ON ]
Faster than he ever had, Wile E. ran to his cave den, and back, with a toon-ified first aid kit. He knew that the kit wouldn’t fix Road Runner’s leg, but it would at least slow the bleeding so that they could find actual help.
Except, the coyote realized, he had no idea where to find said help.
Wile E. worked as quickly and gently as possible on his companion’s leg, wrapping it in copious amounts of gauze and tape. The scent of blood continually poked at his nostrils, and normally he’d be salivating… but the Road Runner’s pained and depressed whimpers cut through his frantic thoughts and actions, making him feel quite the opposite of hungry.
Roadie had stopped crying at this point. The coyote was thankful for this, because it was tugging at his heartstrings a bit too much for his liking.
The pitiful bird looked exhausted, for once– and he certainly felt it. It had been just minutes since he fell and broke his leg in a way that no toon should, but it had really taken the wind out of his wings. Beak quivering slightly, he watched the mammal carefully bind his injury.
Once the bleeding had slowed enough for Wile E.’s comfort, he stopped to glance at the blood on his hands. He stared at the crimson stains for a beat or two, before shaking his head vigorously.
The urge to lap up the other creature’s blood was, somehow, non-existent. In its place, a sense of nervous urgency settled in, causing him to jitter. He realized that, perhaps, he had been shaking the entire time he worked on Road Runner’s leg.
But there wasn’t time to dwell on it.
He gingerly picked up his rival, held him close to his chest, and began running to Albuquerque.
Kevin would know what to do.
A bit confused, but seemingly content, Beep Beep curled into Wile E.’s chest and quietly sighed. He was in pain, but he trusted his coyote. (Yes, his.)
The coyote blushed. Damn his toon DNA! Real coyotes didn’t blush.
Real coyotes didn’t have nice lawyer friends, either, though.
Nor did they ever carry real roadrunners in their arms into the city.
But that... wasn't important.