Chapter Text
His Coyote was gone.
At first Roadrunner just thought Wile E was late. It was unlike him, being the dedicated person that he was. But sometimes his traps were a little more complex, requiring several hours of setup to arrange to his liking. Roadie could be patient. He knew that Wile E would come and chase him eventually.
As the hours passed Roadie began to suspect something was wrong. Maybe the apparatus he’d built wasn’t working as planned. Or maybe Wile E was sick, or maybe he was more injured by that missile than Roadrunner previously assumed, even though Wile E had withstood much stronger explosions than that.
Concerned, Roadrunner made his way to Wile E’s cave. They didn’t really go to each other’s homes. It was part of their unspoken arrangement. Home base was safe territory. Wile E had never disturbed Roadie’s nest, and Roadie had never entered Wile E’s cave. But if he was really in trouble, Roadrunner had to go and help him.
As he approached the cave Wile E called home he beeped to signal his approach. Maybe draw Wile E out. There was no response, nor were there any signs of life. No power tools or humming electricity, not the sound of saws cutting through wood, no sparks flashing lights or fires, or any other indications that Wile E was in there tinkering. The sound would have easily echoed off of the cave walls and rocky slopes of Wile E’s mountain home. Roadrunner tilted his head curiously, walking past the trespassing warnings Wile E had posted along the path to his cave.
Roadrunner beeped again just outside the mouth of the cave. He heard it echo through the cave with no ensuing response. Again he hesitated. He wasn’t sure Wile E would appreciate Roadrunner entering his home without permission. But his concern for his mate drove him onward.
He crept into the cave. It was dark inside. Roadrunner looked around, leaning his head over to the wall to flip a nearby switch. The lights flickered on with a loud, industrial clicking sound. In the light Roadie could clearly see that no one was home.
He huffed, frustrated. If Wile E wasn’t home where could he possibly be? Maybe he was off visiting his cousin. But he’d never left the desert without telling Roadrunner where he was going first. He was considerate like that. It wasn’t like him to just leave without any notice.
His desk didn’t have a note on it explaining his absence. Roadrunner huffed again. No explanation, no note. That was so strange! Where could he possibly be? What could be so urgent that it made Wile E leave home without informing his mate of his whereabouts?
Maybe he’d missed him. It was possible that Wile E really was just in another part of the desert. Maybe he’d gotten stuck somewhere? It had happened before, although he usually ended up getting himself out of those jams. Roadrunner sped from the cave, determined to find him.
He checked the canyon, the river, the oasis, and the cliff sides. The roads and ditches. Cactus patches and jagged rock formations. He sped across the desert sands, just in case he was half buried in a dune or something. Or maybe he’d collapsed from heat exhaustion. He looked in every coyote-shaped crater. No Coyote.
Roadrunner retraced his steps. He checked again. The sun had nearly set. He hadn’t seen Wile E all day. That had almost never happened, and certainly not without an explanation. He couldn’t help but feel a building sense of dread.
He reluctantly returned to his nest. Perhaps he was only making a short trip. Wile E would return tomorrow. He curled into his nest, closed his eyes and rested his head against his wings, determined to fall asleep so tomorrow would come sooner and bring Wile E with it. The same thoughts that disturbed him all day followed him into a restless sleep.
The next day Wile E hadn’t come back.
Again Roadrunner searched the desert. He expanded his search. He looked into other caves, abandoned mines, the site of the avalanche from decades past.
Wile E wasn’t there.
Roadrunner returned to Wile E’s cave impatiently. Nothing had changed since yesterday. No signs that Wile E had been there since Roadrunner left.
Really, he didn’t want to snoop. He respected his mate’s privacy. But Roadrunner was desperate for information. He needed to know why Wile E wasn’t there.
Roadrunner circled the cave, examining the hoard of broken objects. Magnets stuck to piles of anvils, burnt out rockets and fragments of bombs, shredded rope, empty paint buckets in piles. Crates stacked as high as the ceiling. The wall was papered with blueprints. Garbage pails filled with crumpled up discarded plans. Roadie went over to a wall of filing cabinets. He gingerly pulled open the drawers with his beak. There were old plans, meticulously organized. Notes on past failures. Roadrunner read them over, plucking out page after page documenting their previous chases. He remembered fondly the first tunnel Wile E painted. He remembered that bomb trap, that bridge collapse, the train tracks. What fun they had!
He couldn’t help but notice the scribbles over Wile E’s careful drawings. The angry jutting angles of each letter, every word of his notes. The expressions of frustration for his failures. Some of the blueprints were just about shredded, claw marks and teeth tearing through paper.
Disturbed, Roadie put the blueprints back into their files. He turned towards a nearby shelf. Other than the recipe books for cooking poultry, there was a collection of souvenirs from their chases. Roadrunner’s eyes were drawn first to the collection of his feathers displayed in a vase, a bright splash of color in the dim cave. Little pieces of the Roadrunner, proudly displayed and treasured. What could be better proof that his mate was thinking of him? Until his eyes were drawn to more alarming collections. A cup of teeth, torn claws in cups. First aid supplies. There were so many teeth. He winced with sympathy. How many had he lost over the years?
No. Roadie always checked on his Wile E when something went wrong with the chase! He always looked back and made sure he was okay. Wile E always got back up. He always came back. He always pursued him.
Well, not always. Weren’t there times when Wile E didn’t chase? Sometimes the coyote got a little… wilted. For lack of a better word. Unmotivated, droopy, sad. Even when Roadrunner stood in his reach he wouldn’t get up and chase. But everyone had bad days, and Wile E always came around!
He always chased Roadrunner. He lived to chase Roadrunner, and Roadie lived to run.
Yes. Wile E loved the chase. He would be back. Roadrunner was certain.
Certain.
Memories swirled in his mind like stars in the eyes of a stunned cartoon. Memories of the chase. Of every explosion that singed Coyote’s fur off, every crater he crawled out of, every hit and every fall. How much failure could one take? How much humiliation could one person stand? What was the point where someone decided what they were pursuing wasn’t worth their time or effort anymore?
Did Wile E not consider Roadrunner worth it anymore? What had Roadrunner done to reciprocate Wile E’s effort over the years? It was the most elaborate, prolonged courtship Roadie had ever heard of. No one had a mate more dedicated than he did. But did Roadrunner ever do anything to show Wile E he cared? He checked that Wile E was okay, but he didn’t help him nurse his wounds. He teased. Did Wile E like to be teased? It always made him chase all the more. But perhaps Wile E didn’t like what Roadie saw to be a little fun. Did he think Roadie was taunting him? Rubbing it in maybe, putting down his own mate. Who did something like that? Who humiliated their own mate? Did he ever give Wile E gifts? Real gifts. Wile E took everything Roadrunner put in his hands, and usually it blew up in his face. Granted, they were usually pieces of Wile E’s own traps. But that was the problem. Roadrunner didn’t take the initiative to do anything on his own or present Wile E with food or gifts. He just participated in all the wonderful games that Wile E set up. And he always won, which meant Wile E was always the loser. Who actually wanted to lose all the time? Who wanted a mate who never gave them anything? What really made Roadrunner a worthwhile mate? Maybe Wile E had decided Roadie wasn’t worth it anymore.
Guilt dropped into his stomach like a weight. His heart raced. Looking around the room, there was so much incontrovertible proof that his Wile E was always thinking of him. How could Roadrunner be so thoughtless in return?
Disturbed, Roadrunner turned and left the cage. Perching just on the edge of the cliff, he scanned the landscape for signs of his Coyote. He couldn’t see any signs of him. He could smell his mate in the wind. It was disturbing. Would Wile E return? Surely he would. He hadn’t packed anything! Or at least not anything big. His bed and television set were still in his cave. The costumes he’d collected over the years were still hanging on a rack against the wall. He hadn’t taken any keepsakes with him. He would have to return for his most precious possessions.
Unless Wile E didn’t treasure their keepsakes anymore.
Roadrunner cried out, the sound echoing against the mountain and through the canyon. And a sound returned. The rumbling of a car engine.
Roadie rolled his eyes. Humans. There were less of them than years past. When the highways were built they didn’t feel the need to take the circuitous path through the mountains anymore. But some people still wanted to take the “scenic route” or camp or climb the mountains. The only good thing about humans in his territory was the fact that they maintained the roads he ran on. But Roadrunner had no patience for humans at the moment. He didn’t have a desire to see anyone who wasn’t his Wile E.
A car parked in the sand off the side of the road. Humans clambered out of it. The back door flew open, and out came his Coyote.
Wile E! All his worries melted in an instant, burned away by the excitement of seeing his mate safely returned. He didn’t even bother wondering where Wile E went. He had to go down, he had to see his mate and begin the chase again.
When Roadrunner reached the road the humans and his Wile E were standing around there was already a pile of birdseed waiting for him. He gratefully ate it up. There was a strange paper underneath it. Roadrunner didn’t give it any thought, quickly pecking a playful BEEP BEEP into it before running off. Wile E would chase him, he was sure of it.
But when he looked back, Wile E wasn’t behind him.
Roadie screeched to a halt, dust flying up from under his feet. He stomped a little, frustrated. Maybe he’d just been too fast this time. Wile E didn’t have a rocket or anything. He’d fallen behind. That was okay! He’d go back for him and give Wile E a chance to catch up.
He ran past again, but Wile E wasn’t there on the road anymore. Neither were the humans or their car. He cocked his head curiously. Where did they get off to?
Roadrunner sped around the mountain, up along the winding path. He came to a halt when he saw a familiar shade of brown in the corner of his eye.
There he was! Down in the canyon. He was pointing and signing something at those humans. The humans were taking pictures, taking measurements, and writing notes. Strange. Maybe they were filming new cartoons? It had been a while since Warner Bros had filmed a cartoon with the two of them, with any of the popular toons really. It seemed as though toon entertainment had fallen out of favor lately. It was strange that nobody had approached Roadie about a new filming project. Maybe they wanted something with him and Bugs again. Roadrunner rolled his eyes.
Well. Wile E was back now. Roadie was sure they would come to find him soon and tell him about the new film contract. Or not. Even if he was filming with Bugs again (Roadrunner ignored the irritation that bubbled up at the thought) Wile E would come and chase him again. Even if it was only between breaks of filming. Wile E always made time for him. Charmer.
Only Wile E didn’t chase him. He and those humans took pictures, took old debris from previous chases, wrote more notes and then got into the car and left again.
Why? Why did Wile E leave?! Roadrunner huffed and beeped irritably. What was Wile E doing with those humans? Was he really arranging for more filming? Why did he abandon him without any explanation? He'd never been so angry at Wile E before. He laid back into his nest, restless for an entirely different reason. He better come back with an apology and a good explanation.
But he didn’t come back.
Days passed. Wile E didn’t return. The humans didn’t come back. Roadrunner’s anger quickly soured into distress again. The longer Wile E’s absence stretched the more convinced Roadrunner became that he was right the first time. Wile E had grown sick of him and finally decided he was done chasing after someone he couldn’t have.
Even though he did have Roadie. Wile E owned his heart completely. From almost the first moments in their decades of knowing each other, Roadrunner was charmed by Wile E’s wit, his tenacity, and his passion. He’d never caught him in their game of tag, but he’d completely captured his heart.
But he’d never told him that.
It was all Roadrunner’s fault. He never made Coyote feel appreciated. He was a terrible mate. It was for the best that Wile E had finally moved on. Roadrunner certainly didn’t deserve him.
He tore along the roads, chunks of pavement coming up behind him. There was no satisfaction in running. Not without his Wile E there to chase him. But he ran because that’s what he did. He was built to run, it was his identity and his destiny.
The wind shifted. He could smell industrial glue and birdseed. His heart fluttered. Wile E. His speed picked up. The road disintegrated behind him, he burst forward in his haste to see his Coyote again.
Wile E had certainly outdone himself this time. It was the biggest pile of birdseed he’d ever given him. Certainly far more than he could eat. The glue was a little weak though. He lifted his feet and looked at the tacky strands sticking to his claws. Surely Wile E knew that this wouldn’t stop him. He’d tried glue before, to disastrous effect as always. But he probably just hoped that it would slow him down just the tiniest bit. That was also why he’d gone with a mountain of seed this time, eating even a fraction of this would certainly take a while, and he would be suitably distracted for whatever came next. It was by no means the most impressive or creative trap, but Roadie was just glad to have his mate back and chasing him again. He was willing to play along. Perhaps the next part of the trap would be more creative. He loved Wile E’s ingenuity. It was one of his best qualities.
His head whipped in the direction of a mechanical sound in the distance. Not a trap or his Coyote. Humans. Humans with tanks and machines. Helicopters overhead. Humans everywhere, watching him.
This wasn’t his Coyote’s trap. No wonder it was so sloppy. So careless. They thought they had a snowball’s chance in hell at catching the fastest creature on Earth? They thought they could replicate the work of his genius? They were nothing compared to his Wile E. How dare they? How dare they enter their home and trespass on their courtship?
As if the insult wasn’t enough, they had done him far greater injury by raising his hopes that his mate had returned, only to crush them. It was galling. Unforgivable.
Roadrunner was not prone to violence. But they provoked him.
Explosions from crashing helicopters sent sprays of glue and sand into the militia. Screams echoed across the canyon. The blockade designed to keep Roadrunner in was no challenge for him. Half of the vehicles were bogged down in glue. The others were blown away by Roadrunner’s tailwind. He left them where they belonged, in the dust.
That night was also full of noise. More humans came into Roadrunner’s territory, swarming to clean up the carnage Roadrunner left in his wake. They were certainly moving quickly, almost nervously. None of those humans tried to hunt Roadrunner. He left them to their business. He didn’t want humans cluttering up his desert with their garbage anyway. Best they take what they left and get out of his sight.
The next day there was nothing left behind from the day before. He was nearly impressed with their speed. It was quite a mess. The roads were cleared, even paved over in places where it had been damaged by explosions. That gave Roadie a nice smooth surface to run on.
Well. Not all their garbage was gone. Roadrunner pinned a paper down with his foot. It wouldn’t matter at all to him if it weren’t for the picture on the front.
Wile E. Wile E, Wile E, Wile E. He eagerly read the paper, impatient for news about his mate.
Those humans Roadrunner had seen with Wile E were his lawyers, his mate had gone away to sue ACME, and he had lost his case in court. It had escalated into something called a congressional hearing, which was going to take place in Washington DC.
That’s where his Wile E was. He was surprised to see the details of exactly what Wile E was suing ACME for. He was accusing ACME of sabotage due to faulty products, there were allegations that they were purposely giving cartoons defective products, and that Coyote was suing for damages and intentional infliction of emotional distress.
Emotional distress.
Roadrunner didn’t understand human laws. Or courts or congressional hearings. He didn’t know anything about their technology or why they would purposely sell products that didn’t work. None of that made sense to him.
What did make sense to him were all the memories of broken products. Backfiring guns, detonators that blew up, rockets that flew in the wrong direction, traps that didn’t spring on time. Wile E thought someone was sabotaging his efforts.
Wile E had been suffering all this time.
Roadrunner finally had something to run for again. The pavement curled and warped behind him. He was going to be there for Wile E. He was finally going to do something for him.
Even for a creature as fast as the Roadrunner his speed was impressive. He tore across the continent in record time. Then he was there, in the committee hearing room, standing before a panel of congressmen, a crowd of reporters and witnesses, teams of lawyers, and his mate.
Wile E looked shocked to see him, his eyes bugging out of his head.
That scruffy human from the desert stood up before him. “Mr Runner, we will be asking you a series of yes or no questions. Two beeps for yes, one beep for no. Do you understand?”
“Beep beep!” He chirped.
“Are you a bird?" He answered in the affirmative. “Are you easy to catch?” Hell no. “Okay, good.”
“Are you familiar with a Mr Wile E Coyote?” Yes. “Have you witnessed Mr Coyote using any ACME products while in your presence in the desert?” Yes. “Have those products always failed?” Yes, spectacularly.
“Mr Runner, have you been a witness to Mr Coyote’s pain and suffering?”
Yes. He had seen countless disappointments and failures. He’d seen his frustration, his humiliation. Yes. Yes.
“Yeah, me too.” The human said gravely. “Would you call him a friend?”
A friend. The word seemed so flimsy, so insubstantial. In no way qualified to describe what they were to each other. Wile E was his lifelong companion, his rival, his soulmate. At the same time, it seemed as though Roadrunner had failed to be the kind of friend and mate that Wile E deserved. Whatever testimony he gave couldn’t possibly make up for his failure to support his mate, but at least it was a step.
“Beep beep!”
“Well thank you Mr Runner. Thank you for coming here today. Uh, did you have something additional you’d like to say?”
Only one.
“Are you coming back?” The stenographer said, repeating his words in a way the humans could understand. People murmured around them, but Roadrunner only cared for one person’s reaction.
Wile E was sitting there with tears in his eyes. He’d never seen his Coyote cry, not once in all their years of knowing each other. Wile E didn’t hold up a sign, but his expression said everything. He flicked his tongue, beeped again, and left.
Now he knew, with all his heart, that his Coyote would return to him. And when he did Roadrunner would be the mate he deserved.