Animaniacs Just One More Day

Special thanks to my oh-so-awesome beta reader Kitchensink who took time out of writing her oh-so-awesome fic to give mine a quick check through.

**Just One More Day**

**By Venus23**

The worst part of the day is the part when I wake up.

Cheery, huh?

Aside from the fact that it's thirty below outside, our shack is unheated, and getting up means losing the small degree of heat I've managed to cultivate for myself under my blanket during the night, it also means the daily trek to my sister's room to see if she survived the night.

It's my own little slice of hell.

The actual distance between her bed and mine is probably only about thirty feet. But somehow every morning it seems to get just a little bit further.

She's been sick for a long time. A real long time. Well over two years at this point. We don't know what it is or how she got it. It seemed so unassuming at first. Just a persistent little cold that wouldn't go away. We didn't even think anything of it at first. We'd had more pressing matters on our minds at the time. Like the sudden closing of the orphanage that we had been living at. It wasn't until almost four months later, until after we'd more or less settled into our lives as street kids that we realized just how long she'd had that cough and just how much worse it had gotten.

Fast forward to today and here I am walking the long cold path to my baby sister's bed wondering if today will be the day I spend digging a grave. I never know quite what I'll find when I open the cloth partition that sections off her room. Some mornings her breathing is so ragged I can hear her from several feet away and know that she is alive. Likely miserable, but alive. Other mornings she is silent. Dead silent. Leaving me with no other choice then to physically check her for breath.

Today is one of her silent days. This has happened often enough and obviously she wasn't dead any of those other times, but it still never fails to send my heart leaping into my throat. This would be so much easier if Wakko were around. He used to often take this walk with me. Or even for me. Whoever got up first was always the one to check.

But for now it's just me.

As the distance between us closes I find myself silently pleading with any and every deity I've ever heard of for one more day.

Please. If nothing else, just one more day.

I hesitate for a moment when I finally reach the side of her bed. She's burrowed herself into her blanket and all I can really see of her is her ears and flower scrunchie. I don't want to disturb her, she needs all the rest she can get so I peel the blanket away from her face as gently as I can. After pulling off one of my gloves I let my hand hover over her face.

And of course she picks that exact moment to open her eyes. When the first thing she sees is a hand half an inch away from her face she reacts as anyone would. She screams. Loud. Then recoils completely under her blanket.

"YAKKO!!!!" She shrieks, obviously expecting me to come charging to her rescue.

"Uh, …I'm right here." I say sheepishly.

Slowly she peeks out and glances warily around the room until it dawns on her that the creep who was violating her personal space was me.

"What the _hell_ were you doing?" She demands.

I _really_ don't want to tell her.

"Um, I…well…"

How do you delicately tell someone you were just making sure they weren't _dead_ without completely ruining their morning?

"You scared the _crap_ out of me what do you think you were doing??" She sits up fully. A thirty-six pound fuzzy ball of righteous indignation.

And it occurs to me that after a scare like that I've pretty much shot her morning all to hell anyway so I might as well just answer her.

"I-I was checking to see if you were still breathing." I take a shaky breath myself before continuing. "I do it every morning. Well, not _every_ morning. Only the ones where I wake up before you… but, um, …yeah."

Obviously taken off guard by my answer Dot is silent for several long moments.

"Oh." She manages softly.

Another moment of heavy awkward silence passes between us before I forge ahead with the established morning ritual.

"How are you feeling today?" The daily question.

She shrugs. The daily answer.

"Care to elaborate?" The other daily question.

Talk about being slaves to routine.

"I feel the same as I did yesterday which is a little better than I felt the day before which is a lot worse than I felt the day before that."

How helpful.

"So on a scale of zero to ten, ten being completely healthy and zero being dead, you would place yourself at a…?"

"Three? ...And a half?"

The third degree is an unfortunate necessity. Dot has her good days and her bad days. On her best days she can run around like old times only needing to stop occasionally to catch her breath. On her worst days she can't even get out of bed. It seems to be somewhat weather related. She has her best days when it's warm and her worst ones when it's freezing.

"So if you were to stand up right now?"

"I'd fall on my ass." She answers cheerfully.

The type of day she has also seems dependent on when she's had her last meal. She no longer has the stamina to go hungry and remain functional for as long as Wakko and I still can. If I remember correctly it's been two full days since we last ate. That probably has a lot to do with her current weakness. I sneak a quick glance at her hands to check. When she's really hungry her hands shake. So do mine, but not to the extent that hers do. She knows exactly what I'm looking for and crosses her arms under her shawl so I can't see. But that's all the confirmation I need. If she's hiding it then it is hunger. She often tries to downplay the effect starvation has on her. She knows I have a tendency to blame myself when I can't keep her and Wakko's needs met so she tries not to show it when she's hurting. Which really only serves to make me feel even guiltier.

I have no idea how they know when I'm going into pity party mode, because it's a widely known fact that I have the best poker face in Acme Falls. If I don't want you to see me flinch then you won't. Simple as that. But somehow both sibs can read me like a book.

You'd think with Wakko being gone the food situation would be better. But it's not. We have one less person to share food with, sure, but it also means we have one less person finding food _to_ share. And with Dot being too weak to really contribute much, since a good part of our diet comes from hunting small game in the woods around the village, all of the responsibility falls on me.

I glance up through the holes in our roof. It's still early. The sun's not completely up and there's still a few stars visible. If I go now I might be able to snag us a rabbit or something. I need to make sure Dot eats today.

"I'm going to go see what I can do about breakfast, you gonna go back to sleep, or what?"

She scoffs. "Yeah right, like I could actually go back to sleep after the heart attack you just gave me."

I shrug helplessly. "Sorry, usually I can get in and out without waking you."

"Well obviously not today, huh Mr. Stealth?"

"Do you need anything before I go?" I ask.

She shakes her head and pulls the blanket up.

"I'm just gonna lie here and stay warm."

"Lucky." I playfully complain as I poke her gently in the ribs.

God, she's gotten skinny.

"You don't have to go right now." She tells me looking hopeful. "You could stay and lie down with me for a while."

Dot really doesn't like to be left alone.

"This is the best time of day to catch things though." I tell her regretfully. "It's the best chance we have of eating today."

I really don't like leaving her alone either.

She sighs softly, which triggers a coughing fit and I place my hand comfortingly on her shoulder as she rides it out. This pretty much uses up what little energy she had and she lies back down and curls up, her breathing now ragged. I tuck her blanket securely around her and run my fingers gently through her hair.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." I tell her, but she's already asleep.

I gather together my meager supplies and quietly slip out.

There's something about being alone in nature so early in the day. The air is crisp and clear, the freshly fallen snow clings to your pant cuffs as you walk through the brush, you're surrounded by the low soft sounds of rustling leaves, and you're left completely undisturbed with your own thoughts.

It really _really_ sucks.

I don't want to be left alone with my own thoughts. I hate my own thoughts. They're so damn depressing. Full of 'what ifs' and 'how am I gonnas'. I am not old enough to be worrying about the things that I am having to worry about.

My brother's gone. He's out who knows where doing who knows what trying to raise enough money to save the sister who could very well already be dead by the time he gets back. If he gets back. He's alone out there. Anything could be happening to him. He's been gone for roughly ten months and I've only heard from him twice. But this is an agreement we made in advance. With all the new taxes on everything we can't afford to spend what money he manages to earn on letters home. So he writes whenever he's able to arrange something for free. Last I heard he was assisting a metalworker in Anvilania, but that was four months ago. He could be anywhere now. I just hope that wherever he is he's alright.

There's a very good chance that we could end up losing Dot. That terrifies me enough. The thought of losing my brother on top of that is too much to even think about. I can't even picture it. Whenever I try my mind just goes blank. My little sibs are all I have. I can't lose them. Either of them.

I shove those thoughts out of my head and concentrate on scaling a small tree. The freshest leaves are at the top and that's what I plan on using as rabbit bait. After collecting a few handfuls and climbing back down I dig a shallow hole and dump the leaves inside. Then I tie the end of the short rope I brought into a noose and line the edge of the hole with it. The theory being that when the rabbit dips its head in the hole to reach the leaves I'll yank on my end of the rope, the noose will tighten and voila, rabbit on a leash. Primitive, but it's worked for me before.

All that's left for me to do is to hide in the bushes with my end of the rope, wait, and hope luck's on my side today.

As I sit and wait my thoughts wander back to Wakko. Generally if I'm not thinking about one sib I'm thinking about the other. It kind of goes with the territory of being head of the family. Especially in a situation as dire as ours.

It was Wakko's idea to leave. He said he'd been thinking about it for a while, but I don't know exactly how long. I suspect that he just got tired of standing idly by watching our sister deteriorate. It was during a period last winter where she was having consecutive bad days that he first brought up the idea of looking for work outside of the village. I really hadn't been comfortable with the idea but I couldn't help but see the logic in it. Dot desperately needed medical attention we couldn't afford to give her. There was no work available in the village leaving us no real choice but to look elsewhere. We couldn't all go, not with Dot being so weak and there was no way in hell we were going to leave her alone. Since I was the one with the most experience in being a caregiver, since I've been essentially raising them for almost as long as I can remember, it was pretty much expected that I would be the one to stay.

It was a huge adjustment though. For everyone. Until then we'd never been apart for more then a few hours at a time. Even now, almost a year later it still feels incredibly wrong not to have him around.

Dot had been hysterical when we'd broken the news to her. She's a smart girl. She knew exactly why Wakko was leaving and felt insanely guilty for it. She'd clung to him, sobbing apologies. Especially when we got around to mentioning how long he would likely be gone. A year is a big sacrifice to make and she was horrified that it was a sacrifice he was making solely for her, despite the fact that in a reverse situation she would have been just as willing to do the same for him. He'd told her that she could completely make it all up to him simply by still being alive when he got back. She'd hesitated a very long time before finally saying that she would do the best she could. She was never one to make promises she couldn't keep.

She sulked right up until the day he left. During the week leading up she'd gotten very clingy and never left his side. I think a part of her was afraid that this would be the last time she would ever see him and was trying to milk every last second for all it was worth.

To a degree he did the same thing, taking extra time to color with her or tell her stories, which was usually my territory. I didn't mind though. I was glad they were spending the extra time together. Even I was afraid he wouldn't get to see her again. Hell, I'm still afraid of that now. Sometimes I even wonder if she's held on as long as she has not because she thinks he might bring with him the means to save her, but simply because she wants to see him one last time.

I'm shaken quite suddenly from my thoughts (thank god) by the sounds of a shifting twig. Glancing carefully over the bush I see exactly what I was hoping so much to see: a little brown rabbit sniffing around the bait. I don't even realize it at first but I'm holding my breath in anticipation.

Come on, come on, come on…

The rabbit steps into the hole to reach the leaves. As quickly, but as silently as I can I yank on my end of the rope. As I was hoping the noose tightens, cinching around its neck and left front leg.

Yes!

The rabbit is in an instant panic, flopping and flailing wildly around for all it's worth. I don't want to lose it so I lunge forward and grab it by the scruff of its neck and pin it to the ground. It strains against me desperately, making a high pitched squeal.

"Can you hear me?" I ask cautiously.

Most of the animals in the woods are just normal animals. But some, like myself, are sentient. I always check first. When you catch an animal and its first response is to burst into tears and beg for its mama, it kind of eliminates itself as a possible food source. At least for me it does. I don't know what kind of moral decisions other desperate villagers are making but I for one can't bring myself to kill something that begs so plainly for its life.

The rabbit is staring up at me with wide, dilated, fear-filled eyes and I can easily feel its heart racing but it's yet to say a word.

"All you have to do is say something, anything at all, and I'll let you go." I tell it, just in case it's the type who freezes under pressure. It continues to kick the ground and squeal but makes no indication that it knows what I've just said. I'm reasonably sure now that it's just a common rabbit but I can't help but feel incredibly sorry for it. I know if I drag this out much longer I'm going to lose my nerve. As many times as I've had to do this over the past few years it's never gotten any easier. Gripping its head firmly in my hand I twist my arm as far and as fast as I can, breaking its neck. It instantly goes limp as its eyes glaze over.

All at once I am flooded with guilt. It may not have been self-aware but what if it was a parent? What if curled up alone somewhere in the forest is a bundle of baby bunnies completely unaware that mommy isn't coming home? Maybe there's even a little sick one who needs extra care. Who will now have to rely on her inexperienced older brother who might not be competent enough to do the job.

Yeah, I know I have a habit of anthropomorphicising. Being anthropomorphic myself gives me a tendency to want to give all creatures the benefit of the doubt.

When I get to feeling about as low as I possibly can I start to think of my sister and how much she needs this. The guilt is still there, but it's manageable. I owe more to her then I do to a colony of forest rabbits. Even the little sick one who will now die a horrible slow lingering dea-

Oh man. I am on a roll today. Hunting doesn't usually affect me like this. It must have been the way it looked at me. With its eyes all big and pleading. Which just so happens to be a specialty of Dot's. She's mastered that expression and can use it to get anyone (including me) to do almost anything.

Grabbing the rope and the rabbit I head off to the little clearing I always go to clean my kills. I have to make sure I do this well away from the shack. If Dot sees carnage she refuses to eat. I found that out the hard way when I was preparing a quail that had taken me all afternoon to catch. She just happened to wander outside at the worst possible moment and caught me with entrails in one hand, a bloody knife in the other, and a split open quail carcass on the ground. She hadn't said anything. Her eyes had widened slightly and she'd turned around and calmly walked back inside. But that night she just couldn't bring herself to eat it; she couldn't even look at it. The problem with that was, until I had gotten that bird, it had been three days since our last meal, and since I come home empty handed more often then not it was _four_ more days until I was able to get a hold of anything else. By that time she had gotten so weak she couldn't even lift her head. Even breathing was requiring more energy then she really had to offer. I had to physically hold her in my arms and hand feed her. Wakko and I wound up sleeping in her bed with her that night just in case the little we had gotten into her was too little too late. Thankfully though, she awoke the next morning. Still weak, and with absolutely no memory of the previous day, but reasonably alert and able to breathe normally. At least, what counts as normal breathing for her anyway.

This took place only a couple of days before Wakko announced his decision to leave and may have actually been the catalyst for it.

Lesson learned though. Now I do all of my meal prep well away from prying eyes. When I get home it will be with unidentifiable strips of meat. She won't ask what the animal was and I won't volunteer the information. We'll be able to eat in peace.

As I gut the rabbit I notice eyes peaking through the brush at me. I guess even the woodland creatures of Acme Falls are having a tough time this winter. I take everything from the rabbit that I can use, including the pelt. I might be able to trade it for something back in the village. The leftovers I toss out to the waiting scavengers who rather boldly come out into the open to fight each other for whatever little scrap they can get a hold of.

When I get back home the first thing I do is check on my sister who's exactly where I left her, still in bed. But she's awake now and coloring. Whenever we go into town she collects whatever advertisements she can find (these days usually for going-out-of-business sales) and uses the backs as drawing paper. It's really the only way she has of entertaining herself when I'm gone and her crayons are barely more then nubs at this point. She's pretty good though. I guess she would have to be with all the practice time she gets.

"Whatcha drawing?" I ask her as I step into her doorway,

"The ceiling." She responds without looking up.

"The _ceiling_?"

"It's the most visually interesting thing in the room."

"Oh man Dot, you _really_ need a hobby." I tell her and she gives me a stern look that I can't help but laugh at.

"If you're feeling up to it after lunch maybe we can go out into the village and look at something a little more visually interesting than our ceiling, whataya say?"

"We get lunch today?" She asks, perking up.

"Yup," I answer. "It took a little longer than I was hoping but I caught something."

She hurriedly covers her eyes. "Don't show me! I don't want to see!"

"Don't worry. You won't see it till it's cooked." I promise her before stepping back out of her room.

Our 'kitchen' is nothing more than a large stone slab that I build a fire on top of. Not the safest of arrangements in a wood shack I realize, but it's all we've got.

It's not long before the smell of cooking meat draws my sis from her room. She's wobbly on her feet but gingerly makes her way over to me. As she gets close I reach out to steady her, just to make sure she doesn't collapse into the fire. She looks slightly amused by this as she sits on the floor beside me. With a soft sigh she leans up against me and I wrap my arm around her.

"What's wrong?" I ask while gently ruffling her hair.

"Nothing." She answers softly. "I just wish Wakko was here. I miss him."

"I know, I do too, but we'll see him again soon."

She doesn't look the slightest bit consoled and I wonder if there's something else on her mind. Whatever it is will have to wait though. The rabbit looks about done so I pull it off the fire to cool, then leaving Dot in charge of making sure the shack doesn't burn down I retrieve two bowls from our lone cabinet. When I return I notice that she's putting out the fire.

"Careful." I tell her.

"Duh." She responds.

Isn't she a joy?

Taking the rabbit to our only table I began to divide it up into the two bowls. I divide it unevenly making sure Dot gets a little extra. Hearing the unmistakable noise of a throat being cleared I glance up to find myself pinned under the icy glare of my sister.

Crap. She caught me.

"You're sick. You need the extra protein."

"You hunt; you're out there using energy."

"I used a bait trap, I didn't use any energy."

"You don't always use a bait trap."

I'm grasping at straws here.

"You're a growing girl." I tell her lamely.

"You're bigger than I am, there's more of you to feed." She counters effortlessly.

I sigh and even out the division. Even if I push the issue and make her take more, she simply won't eat the extra and it will go to waste. She's definitely a Warner, that's for sure. There's no mistaking that stubborn streak. Which really doesn't make my job as her guardian any easier. When she's satisfied that I split the meal fairly she dives into her bowl like …well, like she hasn't seen food in several days. We eat in silence until we're both startled by a sudden crash outside. The sound is followed by a faint "Narf, Poit!"

"I think Brain caught Pinky with that horse again." Dot says as she looks towards the shack's open doorway. I take this opportunity while her attention is diverted to toss a few extra bites of meat into her bowl.

"I saw that." She complains turning back around.

"Saw what?" I say innocently. She wasn't even looking at me!

"It's called peripheral vision. So knock it off."

She returns the extra meat and I'm mildly disappointed, until I realize she only returned two of the three scraps I'd snuck to her and the one she kept was the bigger of the three.

Score!

It's a small victory, only equaling roughly one extra bite, but a victory is a victory and I take my pleasures where I can get them.

Dot insists on being the one to clean up when we're finished. Despite being sick she still tries to contribute what she can. I watch her, noticing with satisfaction that she already seems steadier on her feet and her hands no longer appear to be shaking.

I suddenly remember about her distracted state of mind before lunch and am right about to ask her about it when she beats me to the punch.

"Can I show you something?" She asks looking a little anxious. "You're not going to like it, but it's really important."

I'm a little alarmed by this.

"What is it?" I ask.

"If I tell you you won't want to go."

Now I'm more then a little alarmed.

She bites the side of her lower lip as she waits for a response. I've hesitated but curiosity is getting the better of me.

"Okay." I say at last and she looks relieved. She grabs my hand and starts to drag me outside.

"How far is this important thing that I'm not going to like?"

"Not far," She tells me as she pulls me along. "It's in the woods directly behind the butcher shop."

Now I'm very alarmed.

"In the woods behind the _butcher_ shop? That doesn't sound the least bit ominous."

She tosses me a look over her shoulder.

"It's nothing like that. Get a grip."

When we get behind the butcher shop she leads me straight into the woods. After a couple of dozen yards we hit a small clearing. Dot stops and gestures towards the spot.

I'm completely confused.

There's nothing here. Just a little break in the trees that creates a clearing about ten or so feet in diameter. It's actually a very pretty spot. I look back at Dot wondering if I've missed something. She's fidgeting and wringing her hands together while wearing an expression eerily similar to this morning's rabbit. Once again I am right about to ask her what's wrong. I even get as far as opening my mouth when she suddenly blurts out, like she can't keep it in any longer:

"This is where I want to be buried when I die."

I swear for a moment time stopped. Or I blacked out for a second, I'm not sure which. I realize suddenly that Dot's still talking.

"-eal pretty here and you can see the stars. Not that I'd really be looking at them much at that poi-"

The look on my face must have really been something because she shuts up real quick and looks embarrassed.

When my legs give out and I sink to the ground Dot looks torn between running to my side and remaining where she is.

"Are you giving up?" I demand shakily. I'm petrified by the idea. If she's giving up no amount of my care can keep her alive.

"No, no! Of course not!" She's quick to reassure. "I'm just-"

"Why now?" I interrupt, "Why are you showing me this now?" My voice sounds unnaturally shrill.

Now she approaches and kneels down in front of me.

"Well, I was thinking about what you said this morning."

"This morning?" I had no idea my voice could go this high.

"About how you check on me while I'm sleeping, to make sure I'm still alive. And if one morning you check and I'm not and Wakko's not back yet then that would leave you having to handle everything by yourself."

I don't say a word. Not one damn word. It's not that there aren't a thousand running through my brain right now I just don't trust myself to be able to speak over the boulder that's inexplicably lodged itself in my throat.

"And I just figured that if I let you know what I want now then it would be one less thing you'd have to worry about when the time comes and you're feeling all crappy and overwhelmed."

My poker face is failing me. I'm struggling to hide tears, but I'm pretty sure by the way she's looking at me that she can clearly see them. Crawling into my lap she wraps her arms around me but I'm too numb to do the same.

"I'm not saying that I think I'm going to keel over anytime soon and I'm definitely not giving up. I just don't think it would be very fair to leave you unprepared. Especially if you're by yourself."

Looking once more around the little clearing I realize she's right. It's the perfect size for a child's grave. Suddenly I'm desperate to get out of here and never return.

"Well you've shown me, I've seen it, can we go?"

She looks up at me surprised that I'm not saying more. Truth is I still can't.

"Yeah, we can go." She slides out of my lap and waits for me to stand. It takes me a few moments. The suddenness of the conversation and the unpleasantness of the subject matter completely threw off my equilibrium. It almost feels like I've been backed over by a carriage.

As much as I've thought about the possibility of her death I've never actually had a conversation about it. I don't know why talking about it out loud is so much harder then just thinking about it. Maybe it was the matter-of-fact way she spoke of it. Without any waver in her voice or any indication that it was as painful for her to say as it was for me to hear. Almost like she was okay with the idea. She said something about 'not wanting to leave me unprepared'. I really hope that doesn't mean that she's going to start springing these types of conversations on me on a regular basis. If she ever tries to make me discuss funeral arrangements with her I swear I'll either run screaming from the room or liquefy into a small puddle on the floor.

I'm sulking now. I know I am. The way Dot keeps glancing at me as we head back home confirms it. At least she has the decency to look a little bit ashamed of herself. I wasn't ready to have a conversation like that and she knows it. Although to be honest I'll probably never be ready for a conversation like that.

About halfway home Dot is overcome by a major coughing fit. I'm instantly by her side as she drops to all fours to steady herself. It lasts for several long minutes and leaves her gasping for breath and visibly exhausted. By the end of it she has her arm wrapped tight around her ribs which I can reasonably guess are now incredibly sore. I take her gently by the arms and help raise her to her feet.

"I hate this." She moans. It's almost a sob. "I wish I'd just go ahead and die and get it _over_ with."

I'm so stunned by this confession that I'm left reeling. I very nearly drop her. The sound of my gasp makes her realize what she's just said and she clamps her hands over her mouth with a soft "Eep!"

For a moment I'm helpless to do anything other then gape silently at her while she continues to hide behind her hands. Finally I find enough of my voice to utter a shaky high pitched "_What_?"

"Nothing!"

"How can you say that?! How can you even _think_ that?!"

"I didn't mean it!" She insists. She still hasn't come out from behind her hands so I can't really see her expression.

"Didn't you _just_ get done telling me that you _weren't_ giving up?!"

"I'm not! I didn't mean to say that! I don't know why I did!"

I regard her for a long moment.

"Dot, do you know what a Freudian slip is?" I ask softly.

She finally lowers her hands looking confused.

"I think so. Isn't it that gown thing that Dr. Scratchansniff wears to bed?"

I don't know why I'm suddenly so angry.

"This is not the time for jokes, Dot!"

She seems to cower slightly, not expecting my harsh response.

"I wasn't actually joking, but okay…"

I didn't mean to yell at her so I soften my tone before saying:

"It's when you blurt out your true feelings without meaning to."

She shifts uncomfortably and looks at the ground. She looks so miserable my unexplainable anger instantly dissolves.

"Do you really want to die?" I ask softly.

She shakes her head as she sits down on a nearby log. I kneel down in front of her so we're eye to eye. I can plainly see the unshed tears in her eyes.

"It's …I just… I'm just so sick of being such a burden."

I couldn't be more stunned.

"A _burden_? You think you're a _burden_?"

"I _know_ I'm a burden." She whispers hollowly.

"If it wasn't for me Wakko wouldn't have had to go away. And you wouldn't have to spend all day everyday looking after me and worrying all the time and checking every morning to see if I was dead. You wouldn't be trying to take better care of me than you do yourself and trying to sneak me your food. If it wasn't for me you and Wakko could have left Acme Falls all together and moved someplace better… I just make everything so _hard_. Your lives would be so much easier if I were gone."

"And so much emptier." I add softly.

"But you'd-"

"Angelina." It isn't often I use Dot's given name. I generally only do it when I really need her to know I'm being completely serious.

"None of what's happened is your fault."

She sniffs and wipes away a tear that had managed to sneak free.

"I never said it was my fault that I'm a burden. I just said that I'm aware that I am one."

It's so rare that I struggle for words but it seems like that's all I've been doing today.

"And I just wish it would stop." She continues.

"Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I lost you? Do you have any idea what it would do to your brother if he came home after being gone for so long and you weren't here to greet him?"

"I know it would hurt, but after a while-"

"After a while what? We'd learn to live with it?"

Dot nods slowly.

"You actually think Wakko and I could lose our parents, our home and then our _sister_ and just 'learn to live with it'? And what if Wakko never comes home?"

Dot looks up, her eyes wide like that scenario had never even occurred to her.

"He's out there by himself. If anything goes wrong no one has his back. The two of you are all I have left in the world. And I _know_ I could not survive losing you both. I just couldn't. There would just be no point to anything anymore."

Dot's openly sobbing now as I pull her into my arms. She latches on and buries her face in my shoulder. I mumble words of comfort to her while gently rubbing her back.

"I _never_ want to hear you call yourself a burden again, do you hear me?" I say when she's calmed down. She's still cuddled into my chest so I feel, rather then see, her nod.

"Because you and I both know if Wakko or I were sick you'd put just as much effort into taking care of us as we do you. And we do it because we want to, not because we feel obligated."

Dot doesn't say anything but she doesn't seem to be crying anymore. I don't even hear sniffling. She may have just tired herself out but I'd like to think I was able to offer her some comfort. When I suggest we start to head back home she slides out of my lap without complaint. I half expected her to ask me to carry her but instead she just slips her hand into mine as we walk.

She's perked up quite a bit by the time we get close to the shack. She lets go of my hand and runs over to the platform at the train station next door.

"Do you think the train will come through today?" She asks.

"It might, but I doubt he'll be on it. I figure we've got at least another month or so."

"We could wait a little while, you know, just to be sure."

It's not like we have anything better to do.

"We can for a little while." I tell her. "But not too long if you still want to wander around the village a bit before it gets dark."

"Alright." Climbing up onto the lone bench she pats the spot beside her letting me know I'm expected to sit too. I do as she requests and allow her to lean against me as she stares off into the distance in the direction the train, were it to come through today, would be coming from.

Dot likes to lean up against me or sometimes to take a nap using some part of me as a pillow. She's a bit of a glutton for physical contact. Or just for attention in general. When she was healthy she would demand attention just by being a little spitfire you couldn't ignore. Now that she's sick she's learned to use guilt and sheer pathetic cuteness to get what she needs. The one time I tried to ignore her, mostly to see how she would respond to it, she had delivered a truly heart wrenching "You'll miss reading to me when I'm dead!"

Needless to say I read to her.

For the next six straight hours.

I'm a bit of a sucker.

"What do you think he's doing right now?" She asks suddenly.

"Either working or trying to find work I'd imagine."

"Do you think he misses us?"

"I'm sure he does."

"What if he decides not to come back?"

Surprised, I look down at her. Her expression is solemn. "Why would he decide a thing like that?"

"Maybe he found someplace nice."

"He would want his family there with him." I say firmly. "If he found someplace better he would come back for us."

"What if he wants to come back but he didn't make any money and he can't afford the train fare?"

"He'd hitchhike."

"That's dangerous."

"He'd do what he had to do."

"I wish you guys had come up with a more specific time to come back so we'd know one way or the other. 'Some time next winter' is a bit vague."

"I know, but we didn't want him to have to turn down a possible job offer to make it back on time."

"…All because of me." She says with a quiet sigh.

"Dot…" I say in a warning tone. "We've already had that conversation."

"Doesn't mean I feel any better about it." She retorts.

Now it's my turn to sigh.

"You've gotten so moody lately."

"Yeah, dying will do that to you."

"_**Dot**__!"_

"Well it _will_. You try spending all day hacking up your lungs and see how pleasant _you_ are to be around."

Though she's got a point I glare at her and she responds by glaring right back. I've had enough death talk for one day. She turns away in a huff and crosses her arms.

I let her stew in her own juices for a while. I've got too much of a headache to deal with her right now anyway. Here I am trying to be all brotherly and supportive and it seems she's going out of her way to be as difficult as she possibly can.

I wonder what mom would have done. I have very few memories of our parents since I was only five when we were orphaned. Dot was just an infant so I know she doesn't remember them at all. I do remember however, that I felt safe with them. I truly believed nothing could ever happen to us as long as they were around. I wish that my sibs could have that kind of faith in me. I'm sure mom and dad would have known exactly what to say to make Dot feel better. Hell, they probably would have known exactly what to do to keep her from getting so sick to begin with.

I know I'm completely unqualified to be Dot's guardian. Though I try to act like I have everything under control I'm just making it all up as I go along. But I know I'm largely useless. I can't even bring food home on a regular basis. Despite how hard I try we'll probably be burying Dot by spring.

I shouldn't be arguing with her. I should be cherishing every moment I have left with her. Even the difficult ones. Before I can stop myself I've swept her up into a crushing hug. She'd still had her back to me and wasn't expecting it.

"I love you." I mumble pathetically into her hair.

She seems a little unnerved by my unexpected show of affection. "Now who's the one being moody?"

"Yeah, having a dying sister will do that to you."

She spins around in my arms.

"Oh, so when _you_ make the sarcastic death jokes it's okay, but when _I_ do it I get the evil glare of doom?"

"Pretty much."

"That's not fair!"

"That's life."

"Put me down!"

"No."

She wiggles around helplessly for a moment before giving up and going limp.

"Fine." She says. "Have it your way."

Stretching up as far as she can reach she licks my face like a puppy would, making it as wet and sloppy as possible.

"Spew!" I release her and she's out of my arms like a shot.

"Yeah, you'd better run. Cause it's _on_ now." I growl threateningly.

Shrieking and giggling she dives off the platform and into a snow drift with me in hot pursuit. She's got little legs but she is _quick_. She's no match for my long strides though and I catch up to her with no problem. Before I get a chance to pounce her I take a well aimed snowball to the kisser.

"You'll pay for that." I promise.

"Oh no I wooon't!" She singsongs as she darts behind our shack. I was anticipating that move however so I run around the other way turning up in front of her when she thought I was still behind. I've got her cornered now and armed with a sizable snowball as well.

"I believe we had a little matter of payback to settle?"

She shrieks and covers her head with her arms. "No, not the hair! You'll disrupt the cute!"

I raise an eyebrow at her. "And what a tragedy that would be."

"You'd be defacing a national treasure!"

I pause, thoughtfully. "I guess it really wouldn't be right of me to inflict such a loss on the world." I say as I lower the snowball.

With a look of relief she lowers her arms.

"Eeeeeeh…but I'm sure they'd get over it!" Before she can react I dump the snowball on her head knocking her to the ground.

"AIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! COLD!"

"Snow's cold? What a concept."

She stands back up and shakes the snow off of her before beginning to compulsively groom her hair to make sure every last strand is in its proper place. I smirk at her and she hisses at me.

"Come on. The train probably isn't coming today. Let's go into town."

She looks horrified at the idea. "And be _seen_? By _people_? Looking like _this_?" She indicates her hair that looks exactly like it always does. "Not on your life! I need to fix this mess you made first!"

She heads into the shack in search of a mirror and I follow her. While she's in her room I go into mine and fetch the rabbit pelt, shoving it deep into my pocket. I've figured out what I want to try to trade it for.

When Dot says she's ready, (still looking exactly as she did before the primping) we head off into the nearby village. We greet the regulars and avoid the mime, and just generally wander around. I notice several more shops are sporting 'Going out of business' signs. And Dot's amassing quite the collection of multicolored sales fliers. At this rate Acme Falls won't have _any_ shops open by the time spring arrives.

Dot's wandered away from my side and is now engaged in a conversation with Rita, an anthropomorphic cat who lives in the alleyways with her pal Runt. She's probably filling Dot in on general town news. They're both wearing grim expressions so whatever they're discussing isn't pleasant.

While she's preoccupied in town gossip I slip quietly into the toy store. I know that the store owner has a newborn at home. A newborn that could probably really use a rabbit skin blanket. The poor guy lights up when I walk in. I'm probably the first customer he's had all day. Hell, I could very well be the first customer he's had all week. Anyone lucky enough to have money is spending it on food and clothes, not games and dolls. I suspect this shop won't be open much longer. He's thrilled when I show him the pelt. He tells me that up until then they'd been wrapping their new daughter in towels to keep her warm. The pelt will do a much nicer job. He accepts my offer to trade with no hesitation.

When I step back out onto the street clutching my prize I see Dot standing alone looking around anxiously. I'm pretty sure she's looking for me.

"Hey sis, over here."

I was right. On hearing her name she spins around and races to me. Instead of looking anxious she now looks rather miffed.

"Where _were_ you? I thought you _left_ me!"

"Naw, I wouldn't do that. It'd be pointless anyway. You'd eventually find your way home."

She scowls at me.

"Aww come on sis, I was just kidding."

"I know." She says. "It's the only reason I didn't bite you- what's that?"

She's just now noticing the bag I'm carrying and is eyeing it curiously.

"It's just a little something I got you." I say as nonchalantly as I can.

"Got _me_? Really? What is it?"

"Oh nothing." I say as I hold the bag up out of her reach.

The anticipation is making her crazy and she springs up onto me and climbs up like I was a tree.

"No, seriously, what is it?"

I make her pry the bag out of my hand.

"It's nothing, you probably won't even like it…I'll just take it back…"

"No!" She finally succeeds in gaining custody of the bag and leaps down so she can open it. Though I don't show it I'm just as excited as she is, I know she's going to love it. She pulls the bag open and takes a good look at what's inside. Just as I was hoping her face absolutely lights up.

"Yakko! New crayons!" She flings herself into my arms and hugs me tight.

"And this isn't the cheapie eight pack like you used to have either. This is the cheapie sixty-four pack so you'd better make these things _last_.

"Oh I love them! How did you get them?"

"I traded for them."

"Traded _what_ for them?"

"Animal pelt."

"Ew!"

"Better to use it then let it go to waste."

"I know, but still, ew."

I'm about to retort but I'm cut off by a loud crack of thunder. We both look up.

Holy hell, where did those clouds come from?

"We'd better get home." I say as I place a hand on Dot's back and gently begin steering her towards our shack. She hurriedly shuts the bag and rolls the top down so if it starts to rain it doesn't soak the cardboard box that houses her new crayons.

And start to rain it does. Before we've even made it halfway there's another loud crack and the torrential downpour begins. Dot shrieks. The water is _freezing_. Another degree colder and it would be snow. Which would actually be infinitely better, our fur does a real good job of keeping the snow away from our skin but it's completely useless against rain. Within seconds we are both soaked to the bone.

Perfect. Hypothermia. That's exactly what Dot needs right now.

We both run full speed the rest of the way and burst into our shack. The holes in our roof means it's actually raining in several places in here too so we have to watch where we stand. We shake ourselves off as best we can, going from completely soaked to only slightly less completely soaked. Dot's shaking like crazy. I can almost hear her teeth chatter. We have no towels. All we have is three blankets two of which we're going to need tonight.

Knowing I need to get her warm as quickly as possible I get the third blanket and spread it out on the ground in front of the stone slab. I grab some kindling and use one of our last matches to light a small fire. Dot's still standing where she was looking pathetically like a drowned cat. Now it's my turn to pry the bag out of her hands, her fingers are so numb she can scarcely move them. After setting the bag on the ground I pick her up and carry her over to the blanket where I sit down in the center of it with her in my lap. Then I reach around to grab the corners of the blanket and wrap it around the both of us as securely as I can. Dot burrows in and snuggles against me. Hugging her right now is like hugging a giant Popsicle but I know that sharing body heat is the quickest way to warm us both up. She seems to have made herself pretty comfortable though. She's mashed her face into my chest and I can feel her every breath. We sit in silence clinging to each other for quite some time. Eventually I notice that Dot isn't shaking anymore.

"You doing okay, sis?"

"Mmm hmm." She responds sounding sleepy.

We sit for a little longer, until the fire burns itself out. By then we're both dry and sufficiently warm. When I glance down at her I notice that she's dozed off. As carefully as I can I unwrap us from the blanket and stand up with her in my arms. I grab her bag of crayons up off of the floor as I carry her to her room. The crayons I set on her nightstand before gently depositing her in bed. She'd wrapped her arms around my neck at some point and now I have to pry her loose. When I do she stirs and opens her eyes.

"It's okay sis, go back to sleep."

"Tell me a story first?" She asks, making her eyes all big in the way she knows will make me say yes.

Did I mention before I'm a bit of a sucker?

"Which one?" I ask though I already know perfectly well which one she wants.

"The one about mom and dad."

I tuck her blanket around her and sit down on the bed.

"Once upon a time a brave knight married a beautiful princess and they had two sons."

"But they wanted a daughter, too." Dot chimes in right on cue. She's heard this story many times.

"Yup, so they planted a garden all over the kingdom and on the first day of spring every flower in that garden bloomed. And out of the prettiest flower came…"

"Me!"

So obviously none of this ever happened. But somehow labor and delivery doesn't make for a very magical fairy tale.

"So mom and dad took you home and every night at bedtime they would come in and say 'Who's the cutest girl?' and you would say…"

"I am!"

None of that happened either. Dot was too young to talk at the time. I made this story up for her way back when we were still living at the orphanage. Like I've said before I have very few memories of our parents. Wakko has admitted that though he has no actual memories of them he does recall the feeling of being safe and wanted. I made up this story so Dot could feel a little bit of that too.

"And they'd ask 'How'd you ever get so cute?" and you'd say…"

"Plastic surgery."

Okay, not exactly the answer I was expecting.

"And they'd say 'Tell us your name young lady." And you'd say…"

"If you don't know it by now I'm not telling."

I laugh. I'm thankful that she feels well enough, at least for the moment, to be in such a silly mood.

"And mom and dad would laugh and laugh and they'd tickle you…" She squeals as I tickle her, "And you'd laugh too! And you would fall asleep with a great big smile in your heart…"

Dot snorts. "A great big smile in my _what_? Are you trying to get a job at Hallmark or something? Could that _be_ any sappier?"

I cross my arms and turn away, feigning irritation. "If you're going to make fun of my narrative style then I'm not going to tell you that story anymore."

"…I mean, 'A great big smile in my heart?' How _touching_. I wish you'd end the story like that _every_ time!" She pastes on a big cheesy fake smile.

"I _will,_ just watch."

Dot groans, but with an actual smile.

I stand up and retuck her in, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight Dot, I'll see you in the morning."

"When you do your death check?"

"Yeah thanks. That's exactly the last thing I want to be thinking about before I go to sleep."

"If it'll make you feel any better I promise to not be dead when you come in."

"I'm holding you to that." I tell her sternly.

She grins. "If it turns out I'm lying you can kick me."

"I am _not_ kicking a corpse."

"You can poke me with a stick then. Isn't that what you're supposed to do to dead things?"

Honestly that girl does not know when to quit.

"Okay! Conversation over! Go to sleep!"

She yawns and seems ready to do just that. "G'night." She says. "Love you."

"I love you too, goodnight."

When I make it back to my own room I sigh quietly. It's been an emotionally taxing day for me and I'm suddenly exhausted. I collapse facedown onto my bed and lie motionless for a few minutes before I actually crawl under the blanket. I don't know if Dot's just enjoying a little morbid humor or if she's trying to prepare me for something. Either way I wish she'd knock it off. I will myself to just shove it all out of my head for a bit so I can fall asleep.

But not before I send up my nightly prayer for one more day with her.

If nothing else, just one more day.

The End


End file.

Animaniacs, Angst, Drama