Chapter Text
The Road Runner was running.
Barely a blur, he was running, and running, leaving behind a faint ‘beep beep’ as he passed. Wile E. wondered if he’d ever stop. If he even wanted to. Why was he so fast?
Removing his binoculars, he stood up, shook off the nerves. He could do this, no problemo, easy peasy, easy as pie. He’d never actually (successfully) baked a pie, but allegedly it wasn't that hard. His ACME branded ovens just blew up a lot. Maybe he should just make his own. Where had the Road Runner gone? He checked. The speedy guy was already miles away.
He really wasn't given much to work with. Sent to the desert with a buttload of ACME products he didn't know how to find and a single-sided paper of information. Blue hair, fast as fuck, needs to be caught. The guy didn't even have a name. “The Road Runner.” And they sent Wile E. Coyote to catch him, har har. As if he didn't get enough crap about his name.
But this was the first mission he'd been sent on in a while. And by a while he meant ever. He was hired as a product tester, but apparently his uncanny ability to find failures in everything from dynamite to sprinklers had him demoted to inventory. Wile E. could swear up and down he had not done anything but test the products in their intended method, and he had absolutely provided blueprints for potential fixes, but they were all shut down. It wasn't like he could quit, either. He was on his last legs, his sad legacy as inventor having nothing but explosions to show for it. So he picked up his boxes and sat in a small room pretending like every item he shipped out was perfectly functional.
It was quite the shock when an executive knocked on his sad cubicle and offered the chance of a lifetime. From what he could gather Road Runner was an ex-employee who had run (ha) off with a bunch of stuff ACME wanted back. He just needed to catch him, and the company would do the rest. And he would do it alright. With his wits and genius.
He unrolled the main blueprint he had prepared for his mission. Well it was more like a series of crude pictures on a blueprint paper- It doesn't matter. His list was as followed;
- Build inventions
- Catch RR with inventions
- Prove to ACME I am Genius
- Get promoted (lots of food)
He chucked lightly. Wile E Coyote, super Genius. He needed to change his card.
He looked through the binoculars to make sure he still had a visual of Road Runner.
He did not.
The Road Runner was running.
He wasn't sure why or where or how. He was sure. He wasn't. He wasn't sure if he was sure. He probably was. The road stretched on and on and on, but it barely seemed to move. It moved too fast. He was too fast. He was too slow. Who was he?
He slowed down a fraction of a second then sped up again. He just wanted to run, it felt like. He laughed. This was amazing! Running! He let his arms spread, feeling the wind blow through them. He was so happy running. He was a little bit alone. But it was okay. Better alone than with those people, better alone and running across the desert. That's where he was! The desert! He whooped. It was fun.
In the distance, he saw someone sitting behind a rock. Behind a rock? Not anybody he knew. He didn't know many people. Only those people. Those people. He didn't want to think about them. Who was this? New person! New person!
He was moving slowly. Every footfall felt like it took a hundred thousand years to hit, so he had lots of time to think. He was raggedy, grungy, dirty, just like the desert. He looked in place here. The Road Runner wanted to say hello. Hello! No, that was just in his head. How did you say hello again? Those people never spoke to him. It was so quiet. Only the… Only the… All he could hear…
Beep Beep!
Scruffy man was gone. Out of his sight. He had lost focus, but he didn't want to slow down or turn around or see. He wanted to run! So he kept running. He would keep running until his legs gave out and his mind fell apart. That was what he would do. It was all he could do now.
Day had passed sooner than expected. He was alone, under the stars, and he felt himself beginning to tire. He finally looked back at the hills and mesas he had passed and-
What was that?
In his wake the Road Runner had left a large trail of upturned dirt, forming a big puffy cloud of, well, dirt. But in that dirt was a silhouette. And that silhouette looked… very scruffy. Scruffy guy was chasing him. Chasing him? Like a game? Games you played with friends. Scruffy guy wanted to be his friend? Road Runner narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He couldn't let his guard down. Scruffy guy could be one of those people. People he didn't like. He wasn't going to slow down for him. If he really was a friend, he would just have to keep up. The Road Runner wouldn't slow down. He couldn't. It was against his nature. It was against him! Still, he grinned widely at scruffy, almost caught up.
Beep beep!
He kept running.
Eventually when he looked back scruffy was nowhere to be seen, and The Road Runner finally collapsed on top of a mesa, with a smile as wide as the desert. He had no shelter, true, and hadn't eaten all day, but he had never been happier. That he could remember anyways. The mere sight of open skies and stars and the endless expanse of his ‘room’ was everything he ever wanted.
He slept smiling.
Wile E. had spent half the day running fruitlessly around a desert desperately searching for the suddenly MIA sprinter, and yet when he had finally found him and pulled every ounce of muscle he had in his albeit scrawny body, his only reward was another condescending double beep and suddenly he was in the dirt again. He wasn't even at his full speed!?
Yes, this would be a lot harder than just chasing. He would have to be cunning, he would have to be… wiley.
He was mildly curious as to why Runner was just beeping at him. They might have something in common, in that regard. Wile E. wouldn’t… couldn't talk. It was complicated. He could, technically, but he couldn't at the same time. Not until. Well. He talked to Bugs, he supposed. But that was because he caught Bugs. But not everyone was prey. Road Runner was prey. Perhaps once he caught him he would talk to him as well. It was complicated, like he said. Blame his childhood.
It was why he needed this job desperately. Job interviews didn't go so smoothly for him when he couldn't say anything, and he refused to learn sign language. Why have sign language when you could just have signs? It was so much simpler.
Thoroughly defeated for today, he let The Road Runner run off to wherever he wanted to go, and trudged off. ACME had planted agents in many areas surrounding the desert, in the case of the speedy bastard just kept running forevermore, but Wile E. prayed to whatever absent god was listening that he would stick around. He had to. This was his one chance to prove himself. His last chance. He shook his head. He will do it.
He checked his phone for where he was supposed to be staying, considering this was the middle of nowhere. His stomach growled from hunger. The GPS dragged him to a small incline, the top of which revealed… a cave.
ACME had given him a cave to live in.
It wasn't even furnished. There were just ACME products everywhere.
He looked around. Surely there was a motel next to the cave, right? No, no, just cave. Just cave! Of course. Coyotes live in caves. Did they think he was an actual dog? Or, and the thought made him glum, did they just not see him as worth the money. He was already spending his pittance of money on buying the tools for inventions (since he could just disassemble the junk he had here), but apparently housing was out of budget.
He groaned as he fell on the hard rocks, jamming into him on all sides. He threw off his clothes, trusting the safety of the doorless cave to at least let his skin breathe. He would buy the express shipping ACME parts tomorrow, hope Road Runner was still hanging around, and figure it out then.
He slept in pain.
Sylvester waited at the train station, patiently. Her pretty petticoat was wet from the rain, but she hadn't brought an umbrella. She just waited, eyes glazed, staring into nothing.
An elderly woman stepped out, and came towards her, looking equally defeated. It wasn't a great day for either of them.
“Nothing yet, dearie. Nobody is willing to hear me out after I mention that horrid place.” Granny shook her head solemnly. It had been the same cat and bird game for months, no sign of Lorre or Tweety. Though she loved to torment her sibling, Sylvester needed them dearly. She didn't have anyone else.
Her and Granny had been hopping from lawyer to lawyer, trying to see if there was any way they could fight back. But ACME was locked tighter than an iron vault, and so were their secrets. People didn't just disappear. And they would not stop until answers were found. If they ever would be.
She hugged Granny tight, twitching from the rain. “Thith ish not the end,” she said seriously. From her shoulder, Granny looked ahead determinedly.
“Not at all.”