Work Text:
In the 70-plus years that he’d been dealing with dynamite, boulders, heavy machinery, and many other varieties of dangers on a near daily basis, Wile E. Coyote was certain that he had developed a sixth sense for danger by this point.
Even before he fully revealed the other end of the tunnel- hell, even before he’d revealed the train tracks beneath his feet or heard the rumbling quickly coming towards them, he’d had a feeling deep in his gut that the need for a sudden escape from the tunnel would be inevitable.
And yet, he was still nearly too slow. Story of his life, he supposed. Genius brain, average body with so-so reflexes.
Thankfully, he could be damn fast when he needed to be, and at the very least he was still faster than humans, fast enough to make sure they weren’t left behind and managing to yank them up to his own rapid pace despite their physical limitations. But even being fast had its limits, and whether it was drawn or human-made, a train was- well, a train!
And, when he could feel said train right on his furry heels, the tunnel’s entrance still a good yard away - so close yet so far-! - Wile E. did the only thing he could think of. Stretching his arms out as far as he could and saying a silent prayer for good measure, he gave his lawyers a hard push forward.
Kevin and Paige both briefly flew, bodies disappearing out the tunnel’s black and murky entrance. Wile E. only felt a split second of relief before this peace was then immediately followed by the heavy (and depressingly familiar) feeling of impact from an animated steam engine, its wheels giving a deafening screech as soon as they met the trackless pavement waiting for it in the physical world.
With a silent groan, Wile E. only waited a few seconds (just to make sure there were no other steam engines behind it) before picking his now accordion-like body off the ground, head a bit woozy and muscles a bit sore, but otherwise no worse for wear.
As he stumbled forward, Wile E. could see that there was dust and bricks from the Avery, Jones & Maltese office strewn about everywhere. A big mess to deal with, but far from the worse case scenario, Wile E. noted.
Case in point, both humans seemed fine, save for their mild distress - or, maybe not-so-mild, though having known Kevin for a good few weeks, Wile E. didn’t see it as all too different from how the man usually was. Either way, they were alive. By some rare stroke of luck, Wile E. had actually managed to save his… allies? Companions? Professional colleagues?
Let’s just go with lawyers, Wile E. thought to himself. The important thing was, he had saved them… Though, he wasn’t sure if the pair had even fully noticed, now being too busy discussing what they had found in the tunnel, as well as whether or not they should even continue the case, given the immediate danger it had seemed to bring them.
There were no thank yous given, or even any acknowledgments of how Wile E. had helped them escape in just the nick of time. And that… was fine. It was fine, Wile E. assured himself. In all honesty, he wasn’t really that surprised. Toons were resilient, and humans weren’t. Simple facts of life.
A toon letting himself get hit by a train while assuring the humans near him were spared? Well, that was just common sense! Nothing particularly extraordinary. What’s more, Wile E. was a proud predator, thank you very much! He didn’t need to go begging for thank yous and praise like some starving creature begging for scraps.
So, like he did with most slightly (or not so slightly) painful things, Wile E. shrugged it off. He let his lawyers focus on what was important to them at that moment, their ongoing conversation (argument?) making for tolerable background noise.
As for Wile E… well, someone had to clean up all the bricks and rebuild the wall. Seemed like the least he could do in return for partially causing the destruction in the first place, he supposed. And, when the wall inevitably fell back apart, an only-slightly embarrassed and rubble-covered Wile E. was admittedly a bit glad his efforts with it weren’t really acknowledged by the humans either.
(Though, for as much attention as he had briefly given to Kevin and Paige not acknowledging being saved by them, perfectly understanding how a human would undervalue that sort of thing when it came to toons, perhaps it was a bit ironic that later that same evening, Wile E. himself would completely brush off the panic and brief devastation that could be seen on Kevin’s face the first time he watched Wile E. throw himself off a cliff, the coyote being too focused on trying to prove a point about failure.)
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Several months later, things were remarkably less dangerous for the Avery, Jones, Maltese & Avery team. With most of ACME’s legal team either in custody or on probation, they didn’t have to worry too much about flying bombs, falling rocks, or other assassination attempts, nor had they made going into dangerous train tunnels or sneaking into asylums a nightly occurrence.
They were just ordinary lawyers, working on only semi-unordinary toon-related cases, dealing with ordinary daily circumstances. But, as anyone who has dealt with a notable streak of bad luck would tell you, even things that seem commonplace can still have a dash of danger to them.
That day, Kevin got to experience this first hand. He’d spent most of that day in the public library, doing some digging in its collection of regional records for a client that previously lived (and dealt with most of their case-related hardships) in California instead of New Mexico.
For as vast as the library’s records were, Kevin’s search had actually been pretty fruitful! He was even able to wrap up his search efforts at a reasonable time, allowing him to still meet Wile E. and Paige for a late lunch. So there he was, walking down the library’s steps with a folder filled with important documents made in limited copies alongside some important notes for later when he was back at his computer, with Wile E. already waiting for him at the bottom.
Cue the honk loud enough to startle Kevin into loosening his grip on the papers, followed by the almost comical gust of wind from a passing semitruck, carrying a whole crate full of recalled ACME-brand cartoon vacuums, their nozzles still functional enough to suck in and blow away whatever was near as they wriggled about.
Now… He was trying to be less cynical, he really was! But instances like this made Kevin wonder if the universe itself had some kind of bet going against these efforts, though in the same breath, he still scolded himself for not just taking an extra second to just find a paperclip or stapler before leaving the library.
Thankfully for Kevin, Wile E. didn’t even need to be asked for his assistance. He just started snatching up whatever papers he could see (all while trying his best to not leave TOO many claw holes in them) before following Kevin down the block, the two of them chasing after the remaining documents together with Wile E. going high (thank you, stretchy cartoon arms) and Kevin going low.
There were a couple of close calls, with some more notable- er, notes nearly going straight into water puddles or street gutters before being saved, only getting a bit crinkled up instead. As long as they’re still legible, Kevin thought to himself as he honed in on the very last document, which had escaped any nearby gusts and was slowly landing onto the road just a foot or so in front of him.
The lawyer nearly laughed at the lucky break, too focused on the paper to notice the coyote behind him who was now trying desperately to catch his attention with the frantic waving of his handmade stop sign.
Without hesitation, Kevin rushed forward and grabbed the paper, somehow still completely clean despite its impromptu adventure down Main Street. “Yes!” Stuffing it into the crook of his arm, Kevin stood fully up - and in that second, multiple events happened in succession.
He heard the loud honk of a moving van, catching the sight of it barreling towards him out of the corner of his eye.
He felt two large hands (or rather, paws) slam into his back, shoving him forward.
He felt his feet stumble over themselves before feeling the rest of his body land on the hard surface of the sidewalk, managing to not hit his head by landing fully on his forearms, and still clutching his folder of collected papers for dear life.
And finally, he heard the thu-THUMP and SCREECH-! of something behind him.
Nearly breathless now, Kevin looked back towards the road - back towards the crumpled form of his toon client-turned-friend, still stuck underneath the parked van. “Hey! You good, man?” the exasperated driver asked Kevin, seemingly not even noticing the coyote crushed under their wheels.
Kevin tried to stammer out a reply, both his mouth and his brain still trying to catch up, not knowing whether to apologize for being in the road or yell at the driver for running over his friend (and not even really caring about it), prompting the van driver to just scoff at him. “Just stay out of the damn road, alright?” they told him before driving forward, leaving the flattened Wile E. behind.
Getting a good look at the coyote, Kevin finally found his voice. “Wile E.!” he shouted. “You-!”
With a silent groan, Wile E. managed to lift both his head, his expression one of mild agitation reminiscent of when Kevin was first trying to figure out how to say his surname, and a sign that simply read, “YEAH, WHAT THEY SAID.”
“Wile E…” Kevin repeated with a sigh, feeling a pinch of relief. His friend was okay, relatively speaking, and working together they were able to peel him off the road and over to the sidewalk before any more cars could come.
During the process, Wile E.’s body naturally unflattened itself somewhat, leaving only his bent ears and snout and some lingering dirt from the tires as the only evidence of the event. A slight readjustment and a bit of brushing off, and Wile E. seemed to be completely fine.
Not that Kevin would have expected any different from a toon. Still, seeing the injury happen first hand (and knowing how close he was to receiving that injury himself) was enough to leave him slightly shaking. Not that Wile E. seemed to mind, acting totally unbothered by the whole ordeal as he gently took the jostled folder from Kevin and began straightening up the papers within it.
“Unbelievable,” Kevin muttered, shaking his head. Wile E. raised an eyebrow at him. “Nothing, nothing. Just, uh… thank you for- for that,” he told him.
The coyote blinked as he looked at him again, pausing only for a moment before nodding, as if to say “yeah, no big deal”, like choosing to get hit by a car for somebody was as easy as choosing to open a door for them.
Maybe for a toon who was friends with a human, it was. Kevin could vaguely recall several months earlier when they were running for their lives feeling something similar shove against him just before the animated train crashed through the tunnel, but he had been too distracted to really take notice of it at the time. But was that really an excuse, Kevin guiltily wondered.
“Seriously, you- you didn’t need to do that,” he started to say, prompting Wile E. to give him an absolutely incredulous look, followed by him gesturing to Kevin’s VERY human body. “No, I know, it wasn’t like I wanted to get run over either, I just-” Damn it, this wasn’t coming out right at all. “Just… Thanks. Really.”
Again, Wile E. simply nodded, throwing in a casual shrug as he began walking towards the northern crosswalk. Even with their unexpected sidequest, they were still en route to the downtown diner they were meeting Paige at, and Wile E. didn’t want to keep her OR the meal he was going to get waiting.
“...How are you feeling, by the way? Like, are you okay?”
Wile E. practically screeched to a halt mid-walk, his body completely frozen at those words. Words that… goodness, has he ever been asked by someone if he was okay after a violent misfortune? If he had, it had certainly never been asked by a human.
Despite his shock, Wile E. still managed to look over his shoulder at Kevin, who (still looking slightly awkward, but then again he almost ALWAYS looked a bit awkward) seemed to genuinely want to know Wile E.’s answer, regardless of what it was.
“I know you deal with this sort of stuff all the time but, a van’s still a van,” Kevin reminded him. “So, yeah, are you okay? Anything still hurt?”
Not quite sure how to feel about his questions, Wile E. slowly raised a firm thumbs up at the lawyer, figuring that was a good enough answer for now - because while perhaps still a bit sore in the back, he was about okay as he could have been. No need for any extra fuss.
Though his human companion seemed to disagree. “Okay… You sure?” Kevin asked. “Because we can find a place to sit down if you need-”
To that, Wile E. found his unnamed feelings quickly shift into a much more familiar sense of annoyance, his mouth curling into a scowl at the implication of his friend now suddenly seeing him as fragile. And honestly, how demeaning!
Maybe he didn’t LIKE being hurt, but it would take a lot more than a random U-Haul to bring him down for the count! As if to prove this, Wile E. once again gestured, this time at his own body and its lack of permanent damage, before then practically shoving his thumbs up into Kevin’s face. With his point now made, he continued on his way, leaving Kevin as the confused one now.
Watching Wile E. walk away, almost as if he was offended by his question, Kevin thought about trying to argue with him - to let him know that it was okay if he WASN’T totally okay. Because it WAS okay, right?
Wasn’t that the main part of their whole case, back when they were just client and lawyer? That just because a toon COULD bounce back from something easily didn’t mean they deserved to go without sympathy and empathy, and that even impermanent damage could still take its toll?
But then again, Kevin told himself, even when it wasn’t being forced onto them by somebody else, being resilient was still part of a toon’s identity, at least in a sense. It was just how they worked, which made it all the easier to be taken for granted by those wanting to take advantage of those abilities (or for those who just simply didn’t think about it too often, the type of person Kevin once was not too long ago…)
To be forced into withstanding an unending onslaught of injuries and explosions and oncoming vehicles would be torture to any toon - any person, no matter how tough!
But to understand the limits of what you could take and choose to take advantage of that, choose to use it as a way to protect someone weaker? Well, that was almost a superpower. So, perhaps it wasn’t necessarily about the damage itself, Kevin mused, but the choice that the toon had in it. To not be forced into or told to just be tough, but to choose for themselves when they wanted to be tough.
Wile E. chose to take on a van for him, understanding the circumstances and choosing brief pain for himself over Kevin getting hurt. Regardless of how well Wile E. could or couldn’t walk an experience like that off, Kevin supposed the most respectful thing in this instance was to simply be appreciative.
Well, that and make sure Wile E. didn’t have to take any MORE cars for him.
So, with quick and cautious steps, Kevin raced to catch up with Wile E., and the two silently continued their way to the diner, where Paige - still in an obviously good mood after her own successes with her respective cases that morning - was waiting for them.
“Hey guys, what took you?” she asked. Kevin began to answer, only for his niece to cut him off with a gasp. “Oh my god, Kevin!”
Turning around, he saw Wile E. with a small smirk on his face and a new sign, this one reading, “KEVIN ALMOST GOT HIT BY A CAR.” Tattletale.
“Ugh, don’t worry, Paige, I’m fine - thanks to Wile E. here,” Kevin told her, sitting down at the outdoor table. “We’re both fine. Right, pal?”
With a slight huff, Wile E. nodded, taking his seat next to him while Paige expressed her relief at neither of them being hurt enough to earn themselves an extended hospital stay. For that day’s meal, they had chosen a place they all knew fairly well, with its menu of hotdogs, corndogs and fries being easy enough to memorize.
But, just as Wile E. was about to point to his usual, he heard Kevin ask, “Why don’t you get the extra-long one this time? It’s on me.”
Normally Wile E. would be more than happy to enjoy a bit extra on someone else’s dime, but in that instance, he couldn’t help but feel a bit miffed by the suggestion. Narrowing his eyes at the scruffy lawyer, he reached to pull a sign out of hammerspace-
Kevin held up a hand. “I’m not asking if you need one to help you feel better, or trying to make myself feel better. I just wanted to know if YOU wanted one,” he explained. “Call it a thank you, or just returning the favor, since I can’t exactly take a van for you.”
…Oh. Well, that was… Wile E. blinked, the unfamiliar feeling settling back into the center of his furry chest, though this time it wasn’t exactly unpleasant nor was it as agitating as Kevin’s “do you need to sit down?” comment had been before. Thank yous were still a bit unfamiliar to the coyote, but… maybe they could be nice.
“Now, this offer’s only gonna be on the table for the next five seconds,” Kevin continued, being the one to smirk now. “I don’t need you holding extra snack requests over my head. So what’ll it be, pal? 5… 4-”
Wile E. rolled his eyes, giving the lawyer a light shove before then tapping rapidly on the extra-long hotdog option on the menu. Kevin chuckled. “Okay, you got it.”
Toons and humans would always have their differences - in MANY ways, but especially in abilities and in their attitudes regarding those abilities, no doubt leading to some unintentional over or underestimation between them. But this didn’t mean that they couldn’t still try to understand one another.
Humans didn’t need to treat toons as beings that lived to be hurt, seeing them only as nearly-invincible test subjects or bodyguards, but toons could still be proud of their extraordinary ability to take a punch (or a car, or stick of dynamite) like no one else. Their differences didn’t have to lead to one side’s feelings being dismissed or taken advantage of.
Sometimes, there can just be friendship.
THE END