A Simple ‘I Love You’ Means More Than The World

by ThatGordonGirl

Summary:

A series of oneshots revolving around acts of non-sexual intimacy between pairings from Pinky and the Brain.

Chapter 1: Watching TV/ movies together

Brain hadn’t the least notion that Pinky could persuade him away from his intentions, he was as stubborn as mule and twice as much curmudgeonly. By all accounts, nobody should be able to dissuade him in the slightest. Perhaps having only one fifth of a brain cell unlocked certain skills that wouldn’t typically occur in lab mice. For example, convincing Brain to have a movie night on their day off. He was perfectly content to lay down in his jade green blanket Pinky had knitted on a whim, hoping to bring Brain out of one of his more moody days.

He had been fully prepared to do that, regardless of any logical interference. Unfortunately, this was Pinky they were talking about, and nothing about him was logical.

Brain had shot down the other ideas Pinky had; the beach, a restaurant, to name a few. Pinky never drank, but he suggested a bar anyway, most likely to loosen up Brain’s slump he’d been in for the past week. The plans had ended seemingly tremendously worse than usual, and it really brought him down.

He was one failure away from laying in bed for two days again. Perhaps this was a sign from some unworldly force that he wasn’t worthy, that his own existence was a contradiction to the belief that all life was precious. Or maybe he was just cynical, and therefore seeing everything in a negative light. Brain loathed how cynicism clouded his judgment, it only brought him mounting disappointment. He’d believed the plans weren’t going to work before he even conceived the idea of them.

Pinky showed a great level of concern, as he did whenever Brain was this emotionally flat. it grounded Brain in a way, reminded him that he wasn’t completely unwanted. But acknowledging that meant also recognising that Pinky most likely stayed with him because of the way he was treated, that he was a terrible friend who-

“Br-ain!” Pinky called out cheerfully, skipping over to the moping megalomaniac.

Brain glanced briefly at Pinky, irritated by the interruption of his train of thought. It never had a decent conclusion anyway. He’d thank Pinky for pulling him out of it if he wasn’t so detached. The blanket over his shoulders, Brain lied down insistently in the bed with now narrowed eyes at Pinky.

“What fruitless endeavour have you came in an attempt to achieve, Pinky?” He received the typical confused look.
“Troz, I don’t have any fruit, Brain, although I’m sure James does, what with that book-“
“Giant Peach.”
Brain sighed tiredly, running a hand of his face. “I’m not in the mood for any of your outlandish schemes, as ironic as it may seem. Just leave me be”
“But the strawberry ice cream will have melt by then, and then it’ll be all drippy” Pinky mumbled the last bit, anxious at Brain’s response.

“I don’t need to hear about your liquescent…you said strawberry, correct?” Brain questioned, momentarily pondering how he could be so easily persuaded once again. “Mmhm, I bought it while we you were getting all those potatoes for your thingymabob”
“I recall you also falling into some of said ice cream, and those potatoes were used for energy harvesting, Pinky” He hoped he’d included enough malice in his voice to hide the laughter he had on the inside, remembering when Pinky had gone practically swimming in ice cream.

Pinky appeared proud of his accomplishment, laughing regardless of Brain’s frown. Brain made an effort to grimace deeper because of it, Pinky wiped an imaginary tear away, exhaling. “Come on, Brain” Before he could even get a word in, Brain was hoisted up by Pinky, hands under Brain’s arms holding him up. Any kind of protest fell on deaf ears as Pinky carried him away from the security of their bed.

It embarrassed him when Pinky carried him in public, he felt childish and powerless, leaving his fate to that of a moronic mouse who thought watching bubbles pop was entertaining. But on the other hand, it offered Brain safety and stability he couldn’t dream of having independently. Pinky was like his annoying, yet necessary rock that grew on him like moss on a tree. They were symbiotic in the sense that they couldn’t survive without each other, it had been proven before on several occasions.

Brain relented indignantly, keeping a relatively straight face as Pinky carried him towards their large by comparison TV. From this angle he was unable to bop Pinky on the head, and he felt the time had passed, so he settled on scowling once he was placed down. Like per usual, Pinky was unfazed by Brain’s embittered inclination. He only gave a small smile and reached for the remote.

Entangled in gloom, Brain’s face was both lugubrious with a grimace so deep that it could cause a Girl Scout to become fatalistic. He crossed his arms pertinaciously, side-eyeing Pinky like a moody teen. It was fatuous in retrospect, but Brain had been feeling knocked down in similar fashion to a child flunking tests. Disappointment was the one thing that connected everyone, even across species, Brain suspected.

“You look so grumpy-growly, Brain, NARF! Good thing we have ice cream!” Pinky gently placed a bowl of said strawberry ice cream in front of Brain. “Thank you for the careful observation, Pinky, I’ll remember to gorge myself on ice cream the next time I’m too ‘grumpy-growly’-“
“Remember what our therapist said, you need to calm down, or you’ll get all red like a cherry tomato, poit”

Brain puffed out his cheeks, before taking a long, deep breath. He took the spoon from Pinky’s hands “I know, Pinky, I know” Pinky smiled widely at him. “How about we watch something you like this time, hmm? Like that one with the Johnny Depp barber?”
“Sweeney Todd. That’s egregiously graphic for you” Brain had a spoonful of ice cream, a pleasant hum of joy brewing in his chest.

“Oh, but I’m such a sucker for the Mad Hatter, he makes so much sense! Troz! I’ll cover my eyes for the scary bits” Pinky reassured Brain, patting his knee. Brain felt yet another tug at his lips, the ghost of a smile. “Very well, Pinky, I’ve warned you”
“Warner siblings crossover! Yay!” Brain sighed exasperatedly.

“Okay, so Johnny Depp is also Sweeney Todd but also Benjamin Barker?” Pinky scratched his head in confusion, looking over at Brain searching for an answer. He raised an eyebrow in question. “No, Depp is the actor, the character is Barker who came back from exile in Australia under the alias of Sweeney Todd” Brain explained. Pinky nodded his head, but Brain doubted he entirely understood, if anything, he appreciated Pinky trying.

“And the beggar lady is also Benji’s wife? Oh…I get it! Mrs Lovett is jealous because he likes his wife but she wants him to like her” Pinky spoke knowingly, like he truly believed he’d cracked some code. Brain humoured him just this once “That is the general gist of it, yes, brilliant, Pinky” He patted Pinky’s head. The one thing he could rely on was that Pinky was happy whenever he thought he made Brain happy. Which was…a selfless gesture in itself.

Brain really was a lucky mouse.

Chapter 2: Going to events together like carnivals, festivals etc.

“I don’t know how you eat such sugary floss, they’ll give you nothing but cavities” Brain lightly scolded Pinky, who was happily stuffing his face with fairy floss. They’d picked one of the best days to go out to the carnival, not a single cloud blocked the sky, which had formed a warm gradient that even Brain had to admit was quite beautiful. A series of oranges, pinks, yellows and reds all encapsulated in the grand space above. Even the moon shone wonderfully.

“Has your desire for idiotic rides been satiated? I believe we can still get through a plan tonight” Pinky furrowed his eyebrows at Brain, similarly to when he caught the megalomaniac smoking and confronted him about it. “Brain, can’t we have a night off? You said you’d give yourself more breaks, NARF!”
Brain scowled in defeat.
“Very well, what do you propose we do?”
“We haven’t gone on the wheely thingy yet” Pinky pointed upward. Brain followed the direction to see the towering Ferris Wheel in front of them.

Brain wasn’t scared of heights, he’d fallen from much higher than that wheel, but it looked like it was on the verge of collapse. The last thing he needed was another distraction from taking over the world, which Pinky was already presenting with his constant nagging. Brain rolled his eyes in disinterest, he’d already had his fill of carnival activities. He’d even won one of those cliche stuffed bears for Pinky, who had squealed so loud Brain debated constructing his own hearing aid.

He rubbed his temples, a headache on the cusp of forming. “Whatever gets us back to the lab faster” Brain waved a hand uncaringly. He followed Pinky blindly all the way there, occasionally glancing at some petulant child crying to their drained parent about some useless toy they’d probably break before even getting back to the car. Pinky held his hand, and he felt oddly…completely and totally fine with it, like they’d been doing it for years.

To be fair, they’d been doing it for years.

The gradually darkening creating the illusions of large expanses of time passing. To Brain, it was painstakingly slow as he reluctantly grasped Pinky’s hand. He wasn’t the public affection kind of mouse, he wasn’t even a private affection mouse either. Affection made him feel vulnerable, meaning he was out of control, and it made him panic instantly. Fortunately, this was a low risk situation, so he didn’t let it consume him.

Pinky was babbling about random things he saw, which consisted mostly of pointing out games they’d already played and talking about it like it happened years ago. Usually Brain would’ve bopped him by now, but lately he found it difficult to harm Pinky in such a way. His therapist said it was him developing out of his apathetic habits, Brain thought it was him going soft.

He must have been more enthralled in his own thoughts than he thought, because the next time Brain focused back on reality they were already on the wheel. It had gotten to about half its height. The poorly painted red and white carriage they sat in shook uncomfortably with every move. Pinky swung his legs completely oblivious to any imminent danger.

Brain cautiously and stupidly looked over the edge, gripping onto the splintering wood for dear life. Why had he agreed to this? It was clearly structurally unsound, and a gamble of your own life. He leaned back, adamant on not showing any physical signs of worry or fear. He didn’t want Pinky to think he was scared of something so ridiculous as falling. He glanced over at his companion, who was looking around in amazement like they hadn’t been at a similar height before.

What was wrong with him lately? He’d felt so anxious about nearly everything with little to no obvious cause. He nearly lost the ability to breathe when the bus arrived late. Any kind of interruption to Brain’s everyday life had resulted in a near nervous breakdown. Pinky hadn’t noticed it at first, questioning Brain as to why he was so incredibly sweaty and shaky. He’d caught on by now, offering subtle comfort enough not to wound Brain’s pride.

The people down below had grown small, like tiny little dots Brain got to look down on. He would’ve relished in being superior if he wasn’t to fixated on his own knuckles turning white. Pinky had his head out the other side, waving at random humans joyfully. Perhaps their next Christmas plan should include being mall elves, since Pinky managed to catch so much attention. It was one of the things Brain was secretly jealous of.

He knew that getting his mind off the height would calm him down, so Brain turned to Pinky and gently nudged his arm.
“Hm? Something the matter, Brain? You’re all shaky again, poit” Pinky tilted his head as if to get a new angle on his friend.
“I’m fine. Just….curious as to what you think of…” Brain trailed off, he wasn’t much for making small talk, even with Pinky. An area he lacked in was socialising. Pinky raised an eyebrow before seeming to talk on cue.

“Of picnics? That’s brilliant! Oh, no no, we don’t own a basket- Oh! I can make one!NARF!” Brain decided to roll with it purely to avoid any kind of doubt creeping in. “Yes, we can finally get rid of all the left over food from Roman’s birthday”
“And I can make my special no bake cheesecake, you usually like that” He stared at Brain, eyes half-lidded and brighter than before. Brain blamed the heat for his face getting warmer.

Notes:

Referencing that one episode of Patb where Dot made a cameo waving up at Pinky and Brain. Also that other one where Pinky offers to sauté food pellets for Brain saying ‘you usually like that’ Thank you and good day

Chapter 3: Going on dates like to the movies or shopping, etc

Notes:

Shout out to my boy Orson Welles

Brain had previously deduced that Pinky started talking about picnics to distracted him from his anxiety. That had been partially true, but he also legitimately meant it. He even found a half decent picnic blanket stashed somewhere in the lab. Pinky hummed whirl he made Hsiang cheesecake and it occurred to Brain that he too should contribute to the picnic in some way.

It would be considered rude not to. They question was, what exactly could he take with them? He wasn’t much of a chef as the past had proved, so bringing anything of the culinary sense wouldn’t do him any good. Perhaps he could just find something that Pinky liked? That was simple at least. He fell into the stereotype of loving cheese, so all he needed was that. It was lucky that Pinky was so easy to please.

He knew there was some Colby left in the fridge, it was used in an experiment where taking the cheese would electrocute a mouse, an exercise that showed the scientists mice weren’t nearly as thick-skulled as they believed. Brain could’ve showed them that, but in a twist of irony they’d be too stupid to understand any ambitions or desires of a lab mouse.

Brain quickly retrieved the Colby, luckily it wasn’t too heavy and his back didn’t go so out. At first glance, most would guess that Pinky and Brain weren’t that close in age at all. He assumed it was because of a collection of things, his growing pains and darkened eyes from a lack of sleep. He wasn’t exactly lean or swift, but he wasn’t slow either. It didn’t matter, it’s not like there was anyone who could mock him about it.

Snowball had…passed some time ago, Billie had moved onto a rather impressive acting career and Julia had left her ring at the cage door. His parents were off somewhere, he wasn’t entire sure where, and frankly didn’t care too much. Roman would only lightly poke fun at him if anything, being fully aware of Brain’s short temper. God, his life was filled with people who no longer spoke to him.

He wasn’t even a moderately suitable husband, or a exemplary father at all. He drove them all away. The only person he consistently had through it all was Pinky, which came with its ups and downs. They’d separated before, but it hurt too much, had he made Pinky attached too? Through systematic abuse? Was this the only relationship he had? Did it make his last ones redeemable? What would have happened to everyone if he never even exis-

“Brain? Bra-innnn? What’s going on in there?” He tapped Brain’s head curiously, making his ridiculous thinking face which included squinting his eyes and flaring his nostrils. Brain nearly choked on air just from the look alone.
“…Nothing of your concern, my friend” His mouth felt dry, had it been like that the whole time? He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth. Brain was strangely parched.

“Got some peanut butter stuck in your mouth? That happened to me once-well, twice, it was stuck there for almost eight hours, NARF!” Pinky told his little anecdote, running a hand over his mouth to exacerbate the predicament.
“I do not need an overview of all the things that have gotten lodged in your throat, Pinky, though I imagine it’s extensive” Pinky raised any eyebrow at Brain’s response.

Brain realised what he said and it’s implications, but chose to forget about it. “I brought you some cheese, Colby, to be precise”
“Ah, the lovely state of Wisconsin, reminds me of that frozen peas commercial, the one with-“
“We do not speak of him, Pinky”
“Oh, right, sorry Brain! NARF!”

It had taken nearly an hour more than Brain had anticipated to get to a picnic spot, mostly because Pinky talked the ear off of the bus driver and they ended up missing several stops. Which had led to some disgruntled passengers, to say the least. Brain was left pondering how the driver held up a conversation with a mouse without being confused. Perhaps they’d just seen it all.

Brain had stared out the window at nothing in particular, a blur of the city all melding together into a series of greys and the occasional red or yellow from an unnecessarily bright fast food sign. The sun was brighter than it was the day before, Brain knew he should’ve brought his sunglasses. And perhaps a Valium, as his heart felt like it was on the brink of bursting, he could feel swirling butterflies in his stomach.

Well, it only happened when he looked at Pinky, but he was by no means the cause. That could imply something Brain didn’t want to begin processing. Because he was straight, right? That had been the conclusion he came to the minute his mother made a passing comment about ‘flamboyant’ men being the scum of the earth. He didn’t share their view and was disgusted by it, but it planted insecurity in him.

He was straight, he didn’t have a choice. Others could do as they pleased but Brain? Absolutely not. So what Frank Sinatra’s voice was enough to make him light headed, or that one night where he and Snowball had been curious and naive as children, wondering what was so great about some kiss from a prince? They were all flukes. It was all in his head, he wasn’t interested in men. Pinky patted his knee as a way to comfort him and pull him lightly from his thoughts, and suddenly he was feeling again.

“Come on, Brain, Rob says this is our stop”
Pinky was referring to the bus driver, who smiled almost as giddily as Pinky did. They looked…strangely similar “He says he’s gonna see his friend Maurice after this, they’re voice actors!” Imagine making impressions into a microphone for a living. What drivel. Brain jumped down each step, hurriedly trying to avoid small talk with Rob. Once they’d laid the blanket out, Brain wasted no time sitting down again, already tired from the walk. Maybe he needed to join in with Pinky during his morning yoga.

To be fair, Pinky had picked a wonderful spot. It was just under a tree that could shield them from the sun, yet there was enough light that it felt like a dim lamp just for the two of them. It wasn’t covered in leaves or infested in too much wildlife, so Brain didn’t worry about ants. Against his usual ‘stay alert and aware’ demeanour, he lied down on his back and looked up at said tree. He traced the green leaves and coarse brown bark with his eyes.

Brain exhaled deeply, a weight feeling lifted off his chest as Pinky happily unpacked the picnic. He breathed in the fresh air he couldn’t dream of having in the lab. He wasn’t one for nature, jungles were a whole other ordeal, but this was…nice, calming even. The closest he got to this was sitting on the windowsill and looking at all the towering buildings around them, making him feel even smaller.

He didn’t even notice that Pinky had laid beside him until he felt something warm press into his palm. It was Pinky’s hand, which carefully entangled their fingers together. Brain made no effort to protest, just took another deep breath and clenched his hand slightly. Pinky sighed, tightening his grip in return. Brain hoped that Pinky couldn’t see him with such a silly smile.

Chapter 4: Chapters layout

Notes:

Okay, so basically for the next chapters it’ll be a mixture of other ships I choose for the specific prompt, or ones randomly selected on a randomiser wheel. These are the prompts, if you have any requests, they would be appreciated, but not for ones already written, and a little in advance so I don’t write the chapter before you request it. Thanks for reading and please enjoy 💕

* watchingtv/movies together
* going to events together like carnivals, festivals etc.
* going on dates like to the movies or shopping
* sharing secrets
* hugs
* sharing drinks
* phone calls
* talking
* touching noses
* cuddling
* philosophical discussions
* hand holding
* sharing jokes
* sharing smiles
* laying your head on someone’s shoulder
* linking arms
* massages
* tickling
* playing with hair
* scratching backs
* tracing designs on arms
* talking about the future
* a hand written note
* moving your head to their chest and listening to their heartbeat.
* singing together or playing instruments together
* dancing
* feeding each other
* drawing/writing on one another
* brushing your partners hair
* sharing food
* sitting knee to knee across from each other
* doing beauty treatments like facials or manicures, hairdying or face masks
* reading books together
* take care of your partner when sick
* talking about the relationship (how I feel with you, How I feel w/this relationship)
* cooking together
* head-scratches
* hugging
* discussions about yourselves (like flaws, shortcomings, passions,stuff)
* being physically/emotionally vulnerable
* just sleeping together,
* an actual open honest conversation
* bathing and taking care of hygiene together
* butterfly kisses
* nuzzling
* telling on-the-fly stories
* meditating or sharing spirituality
* grooming
* sharing hobbies
* sharing personal stories
* summoning Satan
* seeing each other without make-up or all dressed up
* moral support for major events
* crying, sharing emotions, comforting each other
* listening to someones heartbeat or breathing
* camping/hiking
* sleepovers
* being with animals together
* going on trips together
* sharing clothes/jewelry/personal items
* sharing online social media
* cleaning someone else’s living space
* going with them to a doctor/therapist
* doing art together
* kissing different body parts
* making out
* volunteer together
* work together
* talking about wants and desires
* experience new things together
* do an extracurricular together
* play games together
* play sports together
* walking together
* being respectful and kind to one another (helping them do things,open doors for them etc.)
* sharing responsibilities (chores, babysitting etc.)
* giving each other presents, special things from the heart
* talking about and respecting each others boundaries
* public displays of affection
* grooming in front of each other
* wrestling or play fighting
* texting/talking online
* looking in each other’s eyes
* complimenting each other
* making faces at each other
* sky watching
* write poetry
* inside jokes
* respect each other
* tell them how you feel about them
* get to know each other better (playing 20 questions)
* go for a ride together
* close your eyes and memorise each others faces with your fingers
* walk arm in arm
* make a playlist together
* go out to eat
* list each other’s best features
* bring your faces close without touching and feel each other breath
* go shopping together
* throw a party or other event together
* leave love notes
* exercise together
* exchange something meaningful
* try to have a whole conversation with only eye contact and facial expressions
* sit back to back and feel each other’s heartbeat
* learn their favorite food and make it
* run errands together
* look at photos together
* take photos together
* go people watch
* have a staring contest
* learn something new together
* take turns leading each other on a nature walk blindfolded
* get to know each others family and friends
* draw or sculpt each other
* paint each other’s bodies
* play with kids together
* practicing a skill together
* sharing food
* being in comfortable clothes together
* waving goodbye
* being comfortable with each other’s bodily functions

Chapter 5: Sharing secrets

Notes:

This is platonic Julia x Brain with implied Pinky x Brain, talks about coming out and stuff like that, not venting at all about the topic

Julia sighed, shaking her head in disbelief
“Are you always this callous to your friends?” She questioned. Brain had his back to her, but she could tell he was frowning, call it a wife thing. Pinky knew it too, that’s why he had left compliantly when Brain asked him to. Or maybe he was upset about the rather crass way Brain had asked and started moping when he left.

Julia had become increasingly exasperated by the way her ‘husband’ treated his friend, and the term friend was used loosely because she couldn’t quite gauge what exactly Pinky and Brain had.

On the surface, the friendship seemed to be incredibly one-sided, and somewhat abusive at times. Brain would frequently insult Pinky, or belittle him in some way. Pinky would love unconditionally, and tolerate all of Brain’s worse traits. Julia had presumed that Pinky was broken down in order for the friendship to flow and that Brain had degraded him to the point that he just took it. Julia had wholeheartedly believed that.

But then she saw under the surface, she saw the years of knowledge built up about another, the cracks in Brain’s exterior that led to moments between the two mice that couldn’t be described as anything but mutual. She saw hugs and hidden smiles, sleeping in the same bed and leaving Julia in her own. Truthfully, she didn’t want to sleep next to him and the thought was reciprocated, but he actively slept in the same bed as Pinky.

They had a CHILD together, as Julia would come to find out. It wasn’t all platonic, at least in Julia’s opinion. Pinky had chatted her ear off about Brain, how he single-handedly saved him from Hell, or how he admitted that Pinky meant more to him than the world. It was all so bizarre and uncharacteristic of Brain, who had come off as snobbish and narcissistic beforehand. They casually talked about a hypothetical second child once while lying in bed and Julia had never seen something so domestic.

Suddenly all those bops on the head and insults didn’t hold the same weight, everything the two did seemed more intimate than before. Julia felt like a third wheel to her husband, which was hilarious in retrospect. Still, there was the obviously glaring problem of the two mice that bothered Julia immensely: Brain couldn’t admit he loved Pinky. It was the biggest problem in their relationship.

Julia had kept quiet about the whole ordeal, because she didn’t want to assume anything. She didn’t know what Brain liked or if he knew what he liked, or if he didn’t want to acknowledge it altogether. She didn’t want to start throwing terms around assuming what he was because that was disrespectful, but the topic seemed so confronting to Brain that Julia worried if she asked it would cause him to implode.

It was his little secret whatever he chose to label himself, Julia wouldn’t push. If he got riled up she’d drop it. So she didn’t ask. She see where the conversation went.

“There is nothing callous about my previous actions, Pinky was irritating so I made a logical decision” Brain waved a dismissive hand. Julia tilted her head curiously “Don’t you think that might have hurt his feelings?” Sometimes she sounded like she was speaking to a toddler rather than a grown adult. “It takes more than that to affect Pinky dramatically”

“Well, perhaps he doesn’t tell you as to not bother you more than he believes he already has” Sure, it was assumptions, which were things Julia couldn’t stand, but it was most likely the truth.

“You don’t know mine and Pinky’s relationship better than I do, Julia” Well, that answered her question. She raised an eyebrow “Relationship?”
“Partnership, I don’t like your implications”
“I didn’t imply, I asked” Julia crossed her arms.
Brain turned to face her, grimacing much deeper now. She was surprised his face hadn’t frozen that way yet. “You implied by questioning a specific word in my sentence”
“I emphasised a specific word in order to question it.”

“Julia-“
“Look, I’m just nitpicking the same way you would, but I do actually have a question for you” Julia walked over to Brain, trying not to look down on him as she knew it made him uneasy. “Which is?” He said impatiently, holding his head higher in order to seem like he was looking down on her. “Do you have feelings for Pinky?” And just like that, the entire room when silent. Brain stared off into nothing for a few seconds, while Julia felt a clawing ache of worry in her chest.

“I…Why would you ask such a question?” Of course he deflected, he was panicked and didn’t like to be vulnerable, especially with a mouse he’d met not a few days prior. She felt so nosy, it want her relationship not was it her business. “I don’t know, forget I said anything, I need to prepare for tomorrow’s election” She went to back away, when Brain gently grabbed her wrist. It was…oddly soft for someone who was usually so rough with others.

“Wait” So Julia stopped and stared at Brain, not afraid to meet his eye. They stared at each other for a moment. Brain’s hand dropped from Julia and he sighed in defeat. “Why did you ask?”

“Because, Brain! You two constant touch each other, have lived together for quite a while, you even have your own child”
“Pinky told you about Roman?” Brain held his hands behind his back. “I will admit that over our time together we’ve gotten….amicable, but I don’t- I can’t- not in that way.”

Julia saw a glimpse of it again, the crack in the exterior. The moment where he goes to say something and ends up backing out last minute. So she decided to reveal something about herself to level it all out “I’m bisexual.”
It wasn’t nearly as hard as it was for other people, so Julia counter herself lucky, she knew Brain held no judgment against anything of the sort.

“I just wondered if maybe you were too” She added on, trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally freak him out. He didn’t react as she expected at all, not in a bad way of course. “I accept you” he replied simply, as if it were a an every day conversation. For only a second did Julia see why Pinky loved Brain so much. Still, there was only so much curmudgeon she could put up with. “But I don’t… I can’t articulate what I am” Julia didn’t ask beyond that, she respected that he was trying to figure things out.

For a split-second, she imagined her and Brain being real friends.

Chapter 6: Hugs

Summary:

I’m a sucker for that moment where Brain had his existential crisis on the windowsill, so here’s another use of it. Also my interest in philosophy has been renewed. Mostly just fluff cause my ratio is five angsty fics to one happy fic

Perched up on the begrimed windowsill with the cold musk of smoke infused air, Brain could hardly keep his senses sharp. He tried to close his eyes and envisage a bit the sound of cars honking with little patience, but instead crowds of exuberant humans praising the very ground Brain walked upon. He put so much effort into it that for a split second he swore he could hear it. But then he had to remember his shortcomings, mistakes he made in that past that he thought he’d gotten better from.

For the most part, he suffered the consequences of his actions, that was a learning experience in itself, so why did he keep making mistakes? This was a vicious cycle of going in blindly to a plan he had too much faith in, realising where he’d failed and soon watching everything crumble down. His confidence was built on a foundation made of sand, falling apart the minute a wave of failure hit too hard.

He’d resisted the urge fall asleep, not wanting to escape the guilt and shame with a firm grip in his chest. It engulfed any positive thing and somehow managed to crack it down to pessimistic thoughts. Brain used his hands to prop up his head, elbows digging into his legs. He stared upward. The tears and rips in the clouds reminded Brain there was still a light tinge of blue fading to pink under it. That was the only bright thing in the world.

The world, was the pursuit of it inherently pointless due to the impossibility of it? He talked a big game, but wholeheartedly believing it was another thing entirely. It was purely an act, a cover so that nobody would know the insecurity so deep rooted in his soul that it was practically a part of him. He didn’t want to point fingers, the only person responsible for his actions was himself, but the insecurity definitely started due to his parents.

Even as field mice they their own communication, and his mother was especially vocal. She used to whisper in his ear about expectations and delusions of grandeur. She’d tell him that nobody liked mice with such big heads and round stomachs, like that made any logical sense. If he had found a friend back then, one of the reasons they’d be his friend is because they’d be able to overlook his physical appearance.

Pinky was different from that in so many ways. He didn’t overlook how Brain appeared, he actively complimented Brain on it. Not in the condescending way either, a pity comment to make him feel better. Pinky genuinely believed the things he said, he was truthful and loyal, and Brain was greatly appreciative of that. But it still made him question if he was just some mouse trying to be something more, filling his life with nothing until he became nothing.

“Are you coming to bed yet, Brain?” Pinky sauntered over wearing his periwinkle silk pyjama set, matching his eyes quite well. That was one of his more sensible purchases, which was saying much. Pinky yawned tiredly. It was five o’clock tops, Brain didn’t know why his companion was so exhausted, they’d woken up not two hours earlier.

“It’s not that late, did you perhaps stay up again?” He asked lightly, only because Pinky had a habit of forgetting the time while he watched god knows what on his phone. Pinky fidgeting with his fingers nervously “Maybe just a couple hours?”
“More like several.” Pinky sat on the windowsill. Awfully close to Brain. Their shoulders touched and Pinky swung his legs childishly.

“What’s wrong?” Pinky asked, face knitted in a concerned expression. “I’m just pondering the guiding principle of an old philosopher in regards to my own existence” He made in unintentionally confusing, to the point that Pinky raised any eyebrow at him. “Oh! Like those naked statues from a long long time ago? NARF!” He was at least trying and was technically close, so Brain didn’t comment on that being the thing he remembered philosophers by.

“Socrates said that the more a person knows, the greater their ability to reason and make choices that will bring true happiness” Brain had read it while Pinky was busy laughing at YouTube videos. “I’ve been spliced to be intelligent, yet I don’t know how to achieve true happiness.” Pinky tilted his head in thought, he was actually putting some thought into it. Brain eyed the ground below, it being the only thing he was above of.

“You don’t have to know everything right away, I still have a lotta trouble with your smarty smart plans” pinky slung an arm over Brain’s shoulder in comfort. “Besides, we have tons of tomorrow nights to make you happy, Brain, Troz! and cheese too” He smiled down at Brain without making him feel looked down on in any way. God, Brain didn’t deserve him.

“What if that night never comes?” Brain questioned sadly, the impending days of disappointment feeling imminent at best. Pinky was like the sun, lighting up even the moon to make it seem happy even when the future was uncertain. “What if I run out of tomorrow nights?” His voice cracked, trying to hold back from crying and controlling the lump in his throat.

“I’ll be right there, and I can be happy for the both of us, Brain” Pinky suddenly pulled him in, Brain made no effort to pull back, he didn’t even attempt a grimace like usual. Pinky pulled him into a gentle hug, one he could easily get out of, to be as accommodating as possible. Brain pressed his aching head into Pinky’s chest, lossy wrapping his arms around Pinky’s torso.

Pinky held Brain’s head in a way the alleviated any pain that had began to form. He rested his chin in the spot that it didn’t hurt, he breathed softly so that Brain felt comfortable being close to his chest. He could see the appeal of the silk pyjamas now, they felt like what Brain imagined Pinky’s fur felt like, soft and relaxing. They held each other till Brain was nearly just as tired as Pinky, and they had the best early bedtime in years.

Chapter 7: Sharing drinks

Notes:

I want to work with the idea of Future Brain being dead and how that would affect Dark Pinky. I wanted to add more and get in depth with it but I was worried I hadn’t posted quick enough so I rushed it out. I don’t mind this one though.

It was during the wintery dawn of January that troops sent to patrol the nearby mountains for concealed rebels that Future Brain’s body was discovered. In the highest point of a mountain with far less snow than the others, Pinky was disappointed that he hadn’t deduced that beforehand, was the lair that Brain had been hiding in for the past few months. Clothes, food and a small storage of water, along with some of Brain’s personal belongings had been discovered nearby his freezing corpse.

They speculated it simply got too cold and the mouse had underestimated that, leading to dying in his sleep. It was equally peaceful and anticlimactic for Brain, who most had assumed would go out with a bang. Leading up to his disappearance however, he’d shown little confidence nor determination. In fact, he’d slowly become more of a husk of his former self, conforming to basic theatrics to get away from Pinky sooner. He’d been more cynical than usual, but the assumptions was that he’d been going through a depressive episode during that time.

Nobody had expected this, especially the flabbergasted troops who discovered his body. But nobody more so than Dark Pinky. At first he scowled in warning at the messenger, believing it was an attempt at humour after so rudely waking Pinky up with their marching outside. That it was a crude attempt at boosting his spirit. When his troops asked whether or not Dark Pinky wished to confirm their suspicions himself, that’s when he began to falter.

Sure, Brain had been down for quite some time, inactive at most, but he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. Death and Brain didn’t mix ever, he’d proven that on a multitude of occasions. So he agreed halfheartedly, expecting his dim witted troops to have made yet another mistake that he’d have to get aggravated over. He pushed the minuscule part of doubt away, appearing rather nonchalant. He didn’t even tell Julia and Billie because of how little faith he had in the claim.

Julia wouldn’t have noticed him talking anyway, and Billie would have probably forgotten he even said anything to begin with. Honestly, was he surrounded by clueless individuals? When they finally reached ‘Brain’, Pinky thought it wasn’t him for a second. He was oddly thin, malnourished delete the oblivious access to food and sickly looking. Surely it wasn’t…one look into his half-lidded eyes and Pinky knew it was him. He could feel it before he saw it.

At first, Pinky was extremely angered by Brain’s death. He practically shouted at his guards to take the body immediately and not waste time standing there. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure what to do with the body. Burying it would imply that be respectful, but it also made Pinky look like he still cared, which he didn’t. But dumping a corpse like this wouldn’t do any good either, what kind of example was that? A bad one.

He curtly informed Billie and Julia as he passed by them on his way back in. Julia dropped the tools in her hands while Billie caused plants to come shooting up through the castle floor. Pinky didn’t even give them a second glance or any kind of explanation. He didn’t have one, not even for himself who was still trying to wrap his head around it. More than anything he was agitated, nearly breaking the elevator on the way up to his room.

He stormed in, stomping his feet so heavily he’s surprised that didn’t make it collapse. Pinky told his guards to leave him alone or they were instantly dead, but then it brought him back around to death and walked faster in the hopes that the shock would leave his body. He’d felt pain before, in its both physical and mental forms, ironically, some of the instances involved Brain. But this? His entire life felt different in the blink of an eye.

Brain managed to torture him even when deceased. Ha ha, how fun. He was so angry that he did end up punching a hole in the wall, metal piercing his knuckles and making him bleed slowly. Pinky didn’t even care, he let them drip onto the floor as he shook in anger. How dare Brain do this to him? After everything he’d put Pinky through, he couldn’t even make an effort to- well, he didn’t know what he’d rather.

Killing Brain himself, Brain just disappearing, Brain turning himself in…all interesting possibilities, but all on different levels of likeliness. On the surface, Pinky would like to think he could kill Brain easily, because he wasn’t pathetic anymore and absolutely didn’t care if the smaller rodent died. But on the inside, he wasn’t entirely convinced he could do it, he’d never truly considered it an option. Brain had already disappeared in a sense, but his pride would always make him return.

Not this time Pinky had to remind himself. Brain didn’t make a grand display like usual, no plans or delusions of grandeur. He turned up dead and someone happened to find him. It appears all pride or arrogance had disappeared in this gesture, he didn’t even contact anyone. Pinky spent the whole morning processing the moment his eyes met Brain’s for the last time.

Of course he buried the mouse, just in an unmarked grave nobody knew but him.

Two months later, he still grappled with Brain not just existing. He’d sent the troops to search for Brain so many times until they reminded him that there was no Brain to look for. Each time he mumble incoherently and dismiss them in anger. Julia and Billie seemed to go through some grief, despite the lack of any arguable connection. How dare they have only a fraction of what Pinky had with Brain yet act like they’d just lost their better half?

How come they got to express all these feelings so freely? Because they weren’t afraid to be weak? Vulnerability was bad for anyone with real ambitions.

Pinky cracked one day and confronted Julia as to why she was all teary-eyed over someone who betrayed her. How she could be so stupidly sentimental. She made some poor excuse about how that was still her previous husband for a decent chunk of time and it did hurt her, no matter what he did. Billie held the similar notion that the good times made her sad about losing him despite the bad moments.

Pinky recoiled in disgust, as if he was going to reminisce over ‘good times’ about someone who was a rotting corpse. Like he would bother to even consider being happy about Brain ever again. It sickened him so much that he went to his room again and slept for two days, with only breaks to chug water. His knuckles had little scars as a permanent reminder to that day. That day which threw him so off kilter that it took another two months for him to leave the castle.

His body seemed to deteriorate with his mind over that timespan. He only ate once a week or so, his mind was fuzzy and he constantly felt tired. So he slept, he slept until sleeping felt like an exercise and made him more tired than before. He ignored the creaks and aches of his body and chalked it up to lack of movement. That being said, he made no effort to move around much. Regardless of any of that, he increased the castle’s internal heating.

He doubled the amount of blankets on his bed, he even got Billie and Julia sweaters. Maybe he was just particularly panicked come Brain’s birthday, but Billie began to complain of feeling overheated. Pinky would swiftly snap at her and ask if she’d rather be freezing. She’d shut down and leave Pinky alone, with a far too concerned look. He wasn’t sad, so he didn’t know why they were treating him like he was.

There was a minor habit that Pinky still retained from his younger time. He still got two plates out when he made no-bake cheesecake. As if Brain would come by and take it. Sometimes he’d stare at it for a while before throwing the cheesecake away, all his bitter feelings encased in it. Brain didn’t deserve his grief, not after hurting him so many times. He had been dumb, naive and stupidly in love. And grossly taken advantage of, nobody would put up with Brain like he did.

Brain had said he didn’t need Pinky. He’d been so incredibly wrong, but now there was no satisfactory conclusion to that. He was dead and he’d won in some way. He’d broken Pinky all over again without words like he used to. No exchange was made but there didn’t need to be one. Pinky knew that Brain had defeated him. At the six month mark, Pinky broke down in frustration believing Brain had ruined him.

Pinky was so thin he could see his ribs, he looked similar to…to the corpse he saw back then. To the mouse he spent two years loving unconditionally. Maybe the attachment never dissipated, because every day he woke up he felt the loss all over again. Despite his denial of it, of the emotional regret and all of the overwhelming feelings, Pinky still longed. He stupidly longed for Brain to come strolling in with a coffee in his hand and a playful grin on his face he reserved only for when he was sleep deprived.

That reminded him of their morning routine again. How Brain made his tea and he made Brain coffee, then they’d start talking about plans for the day. The cup would slip into his hands and he’d love it because Brain made it for him. Well, he never did learn how to make tea the same way, so he was stuck with second best of something Billie concocted. But he remembered Brain’s coffee. So vividly that he’d accidentally made it for Julia a thousand times. She picked up that it was Brain’s favourite, but never commented on it.

Death didn’t justify their fights, words that couldn’t ever be taken back or a relationship that ended in disaster. It did put things in perspective though, and Pinky found himself slipping into memories again. Against what he’d previously thought, he reminisced so much he believed he heard Brain several times in the echoes of the castle. He did think of good times, times that made him cling to Brain desperately. It was an exercise in futility.

Pinky got up really early one morning, when it was just about dawn, one year after the last the last time he did. The faded scars on his knuckles covered by the handle of a white coffee mug filled to the brim with Brain’s favourite.

The trick was that Brain had a not so secret sweet tooth, and would either have copious amounts of chocolate flavouring or a scoop of ice cream. Pinky always loved giving him both. The weather usually I referred with Brain’s preferences over ice cream, so Pinky didn’t bring it.

He walked outside on the cold winter morning with a coffee in one hand and an empty cup in the other. He sat down in front of an newer looking patch of grass and placed the coffee beside it. Pinky cupped the empty cup in his hands like it had tea in it. “This one’s for you, Brain.”

Chapter 8: Phone calls

Notes:

1950’s Brinky, the best kinda Brinky there is

That was it. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Brain had yet again been denied a promotion so rightfully his, in favour of someone not even half as competent as he was. The world had truly crumbled to shambles if it succumbed to taking in the bare minimum of a worker. In a huff, Brain decided to inform his ‘superior’ that he was heading home early due to a ‘emergency’. He’d waved Brain off absentmindedly before making a comment to his secretary about the office party that night.

Brain had no knowledge of this. It only made him feel more like a fool than he already did, and discouraged any kind of internal rebuilding he’d begun. It was one of the moments he was thankful for choosing to spend his money on a new refrigerator over a new car, because he really needed fresh air. And perhaps ergotamine tartrate if his headache turned out to be an incoming migraine. Despite how gloomy the day had become, Brain still took time to appreciate the warmth of the sun.

He would be basked in it the minute he got past the office doors. A small relief during a day that had beaten him with defeat. Brain was so sure he’d get the promotion, he got dressed up and everything. Wearing his best suit tailored to fit his body type, a fuller and more comfortable look, with space to flaunt his eventual success. Unlike his colleagues, who dressed in browns and blues, Brain wore mostly black. He still followed the trends of the seasons, a lighter weight suit for summer and what not, but black was his preferred shade of attire.

It earned him some odd looks, almost as much as his slightly longer coat or his bow in comparison to their ties and coats that ended at the waist. They also smoked frequently, Brain wouldn’t be caught dead doing that again, Pinky made him sleep on the couch for a week. Which reminded him, Pinky should be notified of his early arrival home, not that he had little faith or anything. Pinky didn’t sneak around or cheat, but he had his own hobbies and routine that Brain would be intruding on.

He reached for the large black telephone on the desk beside him. Spinning the rotary dial to 0, he quickly informed the operator that of the residence he wanted to speak to. It did take a little longer than usual to connect, but Pinky must’ve been close by because he answered rather quickly. “Hell-o, Darling! How’s work?”
Ignoring how Pinky hadn’t even considered the possibility that someone else may have been calling, he began speaking.

“Unfulfilling and menial, as per usual. I just wish to say I’m coming home early” Brain tried not to stare too hatefully at his coworkers, he still planned on charming them later, after all. It’s useful to have backup when overthrowing a idiotic boss. “Don’t be so grouchy, Brain, after all, your plans are made in the shade”
“Have you been sitting by the radio for hours again?”
“No…Zort!” Brain sighed tiredly.

“Refrain from any of your inane antics until I get home, please” he just had to tack that on for good measure. “And you’ll be home fast, Hermes?”
“You’re not even using the phrase right, Pinky”
Pinky sputtered over the phone “not even close?”
“No” Brain put the phone back down, half wishing his feet did have wings. Maybe that would catch someone’s eye in a positive sense for once.

Brain did indeed bask in the sunlight when he left, opening his arms slightly to accommodate the downward pour of shine. He was surprised Pinky wasn’t out picking flowers or chatting with Billie. That poor girl couldn’t catch a break, with her egotistical husband, Snowball, or even in her own community. People looked down on you if bruises weren’t attempted to be hidden. Billie had a shiner every other week. Brain had tried several times to confront authorities about domestic abuse, but they were just as close-minded and conservative as the hamster.

Walking down the pavement on a warm day in a black suit proved to be difficult, as Brain found himself huffing and overheating. He carefully slung his coat off his shoulders as not to crinkle it too much, Pinky had just ironed it. He folded it carefully over his forearm, staring down at his wing-tipped shoes.

Pinky had been acting…off, lately. Not suspicious or detached, just different. He fumbled more and dropped things more frequently, had shoved something in his pocket as Brain walked past him a couple times. That would be suspicious to some, but Pinky usually did that when he ate out of his ‘secret’ cheese stash. He just seemed more nervous, it made Brain a little anxious himself.

What if Pinky was nervous because of Brain? What if he was embarrassed of being with someone so low in social status? Or was he more concerned about the scorn they’d gotten for moving in together while being unmarried? Was he beginning to regret it all? Pinky said it didn’t matter what others thought as long as they were together. That he respected Brain’s fear of proposing at the wrong time or not well enough, leading to not doing it at all.

What if Pinky had changed his mind and was looking for a way out? What if his parents called and to Pinky embarrassing stories from his lonely childhood? What if Snowball had whispered in his ear about Brain’s shortcomings and he was getting ready to flee the country with a gardener named Pablo who could actually grow facial hair unlike Brain-

His foot smacked right into the first step of the patio. He didn’t even realise he’d gotten home, but he did register the pain. Keeling over and grabbing his throbbing foot, Brain hissed. Using the step to keep himself composed, this was one more bad thing adding onto the pile. Pinky must’ve sensed him or something, because seconds later he came rushing out.

“Brain? Are you okay?! NARF! Did you trip over and break your big smart head?? What’s the number for the flashy truck again?” Pinky’s worry was on full display for all the neighbours to hear. Brain would’ve laughed if he wasn’t busy hoisting himself up. “I’m fine, just wasn’t aware of my surroundings, an ambulance is not required” Pinky raised any eyebrow, still fairly worried. “Did you run home? I thought you didn’t like Cara”
“That’s cardio, you dingbat, and no I did not run, it’s just hot today.”

Pinky nodded like he understood, his face returning to his usual grin. “I missed you, Darling” He kissed Brain’s forehead lovingly.
“I dislike our prolonged separation too” Brain muttered, glancing away from Pinky’s stare. They went inside more quiet than usual. Pinky did even try to fill the silence with talking. So Brain took the time to look at him properly.

Pinky had gone with his pearl necklaces today, which went all the way down his v-neckline white dress. The mid came to a thicker waistband that accentuated his near hour glass figure. All encapsulated by his dark curls just above his eyes that must have taken days to look so perfect. God, he was so lucky. But he still didn’t know how to propose. Another shortcoming of his.

“I take it the promotion didn’t go well?” Pinky brought him to the kitchen where warm cups of coffee were sitting across from one another. He sat lifted Brain into the seat gently before sitting down himself. “They gave it to someone else, a dimwit, mind you” Brain took a sip of his coffee, and it was just as perfect as he expected. Just enough chocolate to take his headache away. “Maybe they’ll change their minds, don’t give up hope yet, Brain, Troz!”
“I’m trying, but the work is boring, there’s no challenge, and all the while I’m stuck in an office where nobody likes me.”

Brain tilted his head back, looking up at the white ceiling. “It’s all so worthless no matter how long I do it, and after all my years on this earth, I have nothing to show for it” He took another sip, this one more bitter. “I’m starting to think I’ll never accomplish anything meaningful”
“Who’s to say what you do isn’t meaningful? Remember last week we helped out at the soup kitchen?”
“Pinky, please-“ They rarely interrupted each other when discussing feelings, but Pinky was insistent. “That was meaningful, someone there could grow up to be the next Frank Sinatra- NARF! and even if they don’t, at least they get the chance to go with a stomach full of food, right? A lotta people don’t get that.”

He took Brain’s hand “And you did that, and continuing to do that only helps more, that’s what makes a job meaningful, of it helps others in some way, poit” Squeezing it gently, Brain had to hold tighter as not to cry. “Who cares if you’re not a CEO or some Richie Rich mouse, I love you no matter what kind of future we have.”

Brain couldn’t stop the tear rolling down his cheek. He simply couldn’t. He sniffled as he wiped it from his chin. But Pinky still wasn’t finished. “I’ve been committed to you since…gee, I can’t remember a time I wasn’t” Pinky rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “And you’re the smarty out of the two of us, but I know that you are the one I want…” His hand slipped in the pocket of his dress that he loved so much.

Pinky pulled out a small, burgundy box, and took a deep, shaky breath. “The one I want to marry.” Brain just sat there silently, mesmerised by the ring in front of him. A round, smooth aquamarine gem sat in the midst of smaller snowflake obsidian stones, all held together by a silver band perfectly fit to Brain’s finger. It seemed too good to be true, especially after the day he’d had.

He’d never felt so much love and adoration in his entire life, his parents and Snowball be damned, he had this. He had Pinky and he would never let him go. It didn’t matter what kind of side-eye was shot in their direction, or what people saw as conventional. Brain felt his heart rate suddenly double in speed and he wasn’t even ashamed of it in the slightest. He’d gladly get up on the roof and shout it out right that very millisecond.

He’d cried a lot more than a tear, sobbing quietly in front of a panicked Pinky. “B-Brain? You’re worrying me, p-poit”
“Yes…” Brain mumbled.
Pinky’s eyes lit up.

“Yes!” They said in unison.

Notes:

The little things I added in :
- Some 50’s slang cause it sounded funny to me
- Pinky’s dress is based off of several women from the 50’s, including Marilyn Monroe (Which is why the dress has a v neckline) Brigette Bardot (The thick waistband) and Shirley MacLaine (The pearls)
- Brain’s suit was a divergence of the norm for men’s clothing back then, which was typical grey, brown or blue, he also where’s a bow as opposed to a tie because a young Frank Sinatra has a photo with a bow
-Orson Welles, the inspiration for Brain’s voice, also wore darker clothing in some photos, so Brain does too.
-The line “Don’t be so grouchy” is in relation to the talkin’ toons episode that Rob Paulsen did reading The Shining with they guy who voices Baymax
-the ring’s gems are meant to represent tranquility, peace, loyalty and balance, things that Pinky gives to Brain
-Phones would have an operator that directed the call and privacy was never guaranteed, so neighbours could possibly hear the call, how nosy

Chapter 9: Talking

Notes:

This took me a lot longer than it needed to, mostly cause I had other things on my mind. This is a lot sadder than the original plan but I kinda like that better. Usually I try not to do the obvious of what a prompt would want you to do. Took me like three hours to do it sorry for any errors and stuff like that.

If Brain had to say it briefly in an attempt to comfort himself, he’d say it happened in an instant. One second Pinky’s hand was in his, one second it wasn’t. A moment permanently etched into stone. That it occurred so quickly he had no time to even process it till some time later. But that would always be a lie, no matter how he tried to warp the memory in his head. To tell the entire truth, he had to go back to the worst day of his life. That is if he wanted to be entirely honest with himself, he absolutely had to go back to that day.

The day that Pinky died.

They’d been so close to taking over the world, at least the illusion of closeness was there. Victory was dangling just above Brain’s head and he could almost reach it. Grasp it and never let it go. But then it came crumbling down, as it did. As all the things in his life did. Except this time it was quite literal, and Brain found himself falling. He saw Pinky falling. He saw his whole plan failing and now he was suffering the consequences.

Now, he was disheartened but not yet low enough to let himself fall. Certainly not Pinky. So he grabbed Pinky’s hand and gripped a branch for dear life. The ground below seemed to stretch downward as if to taunt him with its depth. He grasped Pinky and promised to never let him go. But he was in pain and weak and unprepared for an incoming rock that fell along with them.

Telling the truth, everything froze. Time, movement, and he himself was stuck in a moment he wished he’d never experienced. His heart pounded in his ears so loudly it was like drums were pressed into his ear canal. Brain didn’t entirely believe he was fully in the moment anymore, like his conscious had left his body and he was viewing it from above. It reminded him of those people who died for a few minutes and said they ascended and saw their own body as they left. He was an unwilling vessel to a horrifying scenario. All motor skills seemed to fail him as he locked up in complete shock.

He couldn’t see any other possible debris. He developed tunnel vision to the point that the only thing he saw was Pinky falling, eyes wide and terrified like he’d seen a ghost. Brain had been the last thing he saw before he plummeted to the bottom. Hitting the ground hard enough that he didn’t have to die slowly. Brain hadn’t been sure if he was dead, until the lack of movement hit him.

An overwhelming surge of guilt enveloped his senses, making it harder to move. Even as he pulled himself up the mountain, he wasn’t certain that he was controlling himself anymore. It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He reached the top feeling far more empty than he did going down it. He managed to find a way down to the ridge, which hadn’t been a difficult choice for him to make.

Of course he was going to retrieve Pinky’s body, there was no other option. But the mere sight of it made him incredibly nauseous. It wasn’t bloody or broken in a way that changed how Pinky looked, but it was him and he was dead and that was almost too much for him regardless. He had to come to terms with the fact he was carrying his best friend’s corpse home.

He hadn’t - couldn’t- really work through any of it during that time. Brain was distracted by making sure that he didn’t damage what was left of Pinky while he hoisted the mouse, who was twice his height, onto his shoulders to carry. It was equally heartbreaking and exhausting in more ways than one. Brain thought about nothing for once in his life, trying to understand what was going on gave him so much dizziness and nausea that he worried too much of it would break him completely.

So he got back to the lab, alone. Well, he wasn’t really alone, body wise, but that didn’t matter. Once you died the body suddenly lost its…life, which was obviously but also so unexpected. He didn’t look quite like Pinky anymore, his features had lost their specific personality that made it distinctly Pinky. That didn’t mean he treated it anything less than precious. Maybe if he did, he’d appease some kind of expectation he thought Pinky had about his body after death.

Brain thought he’d die first. He was much less healthy than Pinky, forgetting to eat for days or sleeping so much that he forgot what time or day it was. Sometimes he’d stay up so late he went to bed in the morning. Sometimes he didn’t sleep at all and just lied in bed. Sometimes he thought about what Pinky would’ve been if he never existed. He didn’t get to indulge in this pondering anymore, due to his own mistakes.

If only he’d been strong enough as to hold on tight. Brain threw up into the lab’s sink. He hadn’t eaten much regardless but it still left his throat sore and his voice raspy. Not that he had anyone to talk to. He heaved a shaky breath before reluctantly turning back to his friend. He had his eyes open only a little in the hopes they would play tricks on him and he’d see Pinky smile again. He was disappointed yet again when nothing of the such occurred.

He buried Pinky outside the lab. It didn’t seem fair to let the scientists just discard him like they did to the other mice. Pinky was special, he deserved a grave. He deserved the world, and now Brain couldn’t give it to him. All the years of treating Pinky crassly and he had nothing to make it up. Ever. He never could and never would. One of the many things that would continue to nag him for the rest of his life.

He called Roman, spoke through a lump his throat and in such a vague way it took a few minutes for him to properly understand what Brain was saying. When he finally got it, he asked if Brain was alright, If he needed Roman to come by. He asked how it happened. Brain replied, but he wasn’t in a way that felt genuine, he gave the automated responses that would get through it quicker so he didn’t have to talk about it anymore.

He should’ve comforted Roman, regardless of what he’d lost that was his son and he’d lost his mother. He sounded so broken-hearted on the phone. But Brain wasn’t prepared to get someone else through grief when he couldn’t even do the same thing for himself. Roman would be able to get through it, what could he possibly contribute? He was never good with words, it was Pinky who said all the things Brain was too scared to.

So he tried to get back into some kind of routine, a necessity he’d come to adapt to. Keeping a pattern seemed to relax a part of him, doing the same thing over and over again offered some relief even if the satisfaction was momentary and he’d soon have to do it again. Brain had shamefully considered smoking again, even pulled out a lighter from a hidden place not even Pinky knew about, but it made him feel so guilty.

Trying to move on early was as jarring as it sounded. He’d call out to Pinky several times before realising that he’d never get a response. It reminded him of some time ago, a year perhaps, when Snowball had died. Granted, he never expected the hamster to answer his calls, but the permeating grief still hung in the air. Brain didn’t want Pinky to know he still cared about someone who’d hurt him so many times. The irony of it all being that Pinky would miss Brain twice as much yet be the one who’s been hurt by Brain many, many times.

But he did, and that’s what made watching both Pinky and Snowball die in front of him even more painful. The fact that he cared so much made it difficult to just brush it off, push it down and ignore the ache that just won’t go. He’d tried so many nights not to think of the empty left side of the bed. He pretended the bed was abnormally large for some reason and that’s why it felt so empty. He suppressed it all and pretended he hadn’t lost a thing. Like when he lost his parents and he had to learn to silence his own sobs as not to alert the nosy scientists.

That’s when the whispering started. It came late into the night when Brain was teetering between being conscious and asleep, and he could’ve easily mistaken hearing voices to simply experiencing a nightmare. He’d assumed they were nightmares, that he’d been lucid dreaming at least. Whispering that sounded a million miles away from him that were so quiet he couldn’t make out the words or even what the voice sounded like. He didn’t want it there in the first place, but luckily it was like very quiet white noise.

It was more like a murmur, background noise to his now menial existence. He almost forgot about it after some time, that’s how much it blended in with the other sounds of the lab. That still didn’t drown out the silence that Pinky left behind. Or the hair that would stick up on the back of Brain’s neck when he worried that Snowball would be behind him ready to manipulate every one of their exchanges. He was always very good at twisting stories, perhaps storytelling would’ve been a better job for Snowball over world leader.

That was more Brain’s gig, in his personal opinion. Snowball probably had a similar idea in regards to him.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t that much to do when he completely lost his desire to take over the world. However this time it wasn’t intentional or even his form of writers block. He fell back into the habit of knitting sweaters, despite how old it made him feel. He even started wearing his glasses, mostly because of the headaches he got from not wearing them and straining his eyes. God, what was he? Three? Mouse ageing bothered the hell out of him. At the same time, he didn’t want to live as long as humans do and slowly lose his intelligence.

Apart from knitting, Brain paid more attention on activities that took large amounts of time. He read longer books, watched longer movies, anything to get rid of the time during the day. When night came, he could freely think about Pinky and what could’ve been. Pinky had always wanted a second child, perhaps somewhere in another reality in that very moment they were playing with their second son who Brain let Pinky name.

Maybe he wanted to do something with his intelligence and was going to college, maybe he had purple eyes, maybe he was more like Brain personality wise, but better. So many possibilities managed to consume his nights when he should’ve been trying to sleep it away instead. That’s when he swore he started seeing things, shadows peeking curiously around corners or standing firmly long enough for Brain to see them before they disappeared.

Believing that his eyes were just worsening with time, he brushed it off yet again as another shortcoming of his own body. He made himself a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and went about whatever he had. It wasn’t a life, but at the least it was survival. Brain considered it that because living implied he got some kind of enjoyment out of it. He hadn’t felt enjoyment or anything of the sort for three long months.

Roman called occasionally, most likely to check that Brain was still functioning to some degree. They had a brief exchange before Brain would make up some reason to go and their son would sigh in defeat before saying goodbye. His son, not theirs, he had to remind himself yet again. Brain used to a part of a whole rather than a singular person. Everything he did including Pinky in varying ways. Now he was left to himself, an emptiness left behind by his other half.

Roman seemed to have worked through his grief at the four month mark, when he started asking Brain what his plans were. Not that telling Roman would benefit either of them, and besides, he wasn’t doing anything other than pondering. It was both hilarious and upsetting that it took Pinky dying for him to talk to his own son more. That being said, talking was the wrong word for it. More like responded to, because he had prepared automated responses in his head.

Brain decided that he wasn’t ready to move on yet. He didn’t want to let go so easily just as Roman had. He couldn’t, it would be a disservice to his friend who would have mourned him till the day they were together again. It wasn’t fair of him to even attempt acceptance yet, the wounds were still open. Gaping and festering as Brain relished in his sorrow. Maybe he just liked making himself miserable, his therapist had said he was self-sabotaging.

That’s when he really started hearing the voices. This time they were up close, like someone was talking right into his ear, having over his head benevolently. Sometimes it was more in an antagonistic way, as if he was being towered over by an imaginary force. Brain still couldn’t quite distinguish the voices, but could make out words. “Brain…save…”
“….disappointing….pathetic.” They were two different voices entirely. Brain could hear them constantly in the back his head, making either broken pleas or irritating taunts.

One day, about five months into his devolution, he recognised the distinct cockney in one of the voices. He knew exactly who it was. His head jerked from side to side, hoping to catch a glimpse of Pinky behind him, cooing into his ear like he used to. On nights where Brain was a failure more than ever. Alas, he was left only with auditory confirmation and nothing more. The other one had to be Snowball, no other would talk him down that way and hurt as much as it did.

Anyone putting him down wounded his pride, but Snowball hurt him more deeply. He knew just what to say and how to phrase it to cut straight through Brain like he was paper. And just the same he knew how to twist it into a scenario where it was all Brain’s fault, no matter what had been said. He then again did the same head motion in search of his enemy. No such individual appeared.

Until the middle of the night, when he’d managed to fall asleep for once. It happened around seven minutes after midnight, Brain woke to the feeling that something was hovering just above his face. He rolled onto his back and lied there for a moment, anxious to open his eyes. He squinted just enough to see a blue glow right in front of him. Then he opened them completely to see Pinky.

Glowing blue all over, slightly darker in his eyes, which had no pupils. He had no legs either, Brain noticed when he’d glanced down. Just the mist of a fading light. He gulped and almost broke into a sob. “Pinky?” His heart was thudding so hard he could feel it in his chest and hear it in his head. The ghost blinked slowly, almost thoughtfully, and smiled just a little. “Brain.” It stated quietly, hands coming together to fidget nervously.

“You’re…” Brain trailed off, unable to quite articulate what to say. Pinky wasn’t alive, he wasn’t technically him, but he was there, his spirit was. Brain would take any of Pinky he could get. Pinky’s stared at him sadly “I’m in that beyond you told me about, the place you go when you die, right?” Pinky floated just above, slightly raising his eyebrow. “No, this is wrong, you can’t be here, I’m-“
“Delusional? Pathetically smitten? Broken?” Snowball was at Brain’s left side, leaning a red, illuminated arm on the sponge bed.

“About to have a panic attack? Come on, Brain, at least put up a bit of a fight, that makes your failure all the more fun for me” Snowball side-eyed him playfully like he was somehow lesser to the hamster. “This isn’t a game, go away, Snowball” Brain shooed him before rolling over again. Pinky floated to his right, briefly scowling at Snowball.

“Do you really want that? For me to go a-way again?” His voice distorted strangely, and Brain saw the shrapnel pierced in Snowball’s head all over again. He saw the dried blood and the ruined fur and those detached eyes. It terrified Brain more than anything had in a while. “No!”
Brain yelled, shooting up out of bed. He glanced between Pinky’s worried look and Snowball’s smug look. “I can’t…don’t do this to me again”
he’d been worn down so quickly, he was surprised Snowball didn’t try to put him down for that too.

“I promise I won’t ever leave again, Brain, Zort! It was so scary” Pinky physically cowered. Suddenly he floated down and lied beside Brain, right back in his old spot. “Don’t listen to Snowball, he’s too grumpy-growly, I see why you guys were buddies” some unexpected shade thrown at him by Pinky aside, he could finally get a good night’s rest. With Snowball now floating nearby, he didn’t have to listen to insults any longer.

He slept so well that he nearly missed his weekly call with Roman. Practically jumping out of bed with more energy than he thought he could ever have, he bolted to the ringing phone with a sudden burst for life. He chatted rapidly and cheerily enough that Roman asked if he was okay. He’d never felt more alive before. “Tell him how you couldn’t sleep without us”
“Tell him his mummy loves him!” Brain shushed Pinky and Snowball, which only confused Roman more. He asked who Brain was talking to. He had to lie and say that he simply wanted his son to be quiet and nothing more. The conversation ended on an odd note.

“I love it when Romy calls!” Pinky clapped happily. Brain huffed a sigh “Yes, well, he’s been quite the talker lately, because…” He looked at Pinky’s dumbly happy face. “Because he’s been rather interested in our life” Brain concluded, offering a smile to his friend. “Ha! You were always a bad liar” Snowball scoffed, Brain decidedly ignored those comments.

Something seemed a little different from last night. He looked back at Pinky and Snowball who were floating just by his head. He noticed that their bodies had become a little less mist, forming up to their hip rather than just half the torso. A tiny change, it probably meant nothing. Brain was too wrapped up to even take a second to question or ponder any of it. He didn’t want it to end, him and Pinky with Snowball acting as unwanted company. But at least he wasn’t gone like before.

Perhaps he’d just not been able to see them clearly when he was still groggy from waking from waking up and the torso thing had been an over site. An easy mistake, Brain would let it go for now. Maybe he just needed to focus less on appearances and more on how he finally had time with the people he- tolerated.

Brain was so distracted he didn’t even notice the way that Snowball and Pinky became more real each day. Nor did he notice Roman’s increasing worry on the phone. Or Julia’s attempts to take over the world being plastered all over the news. He didn’t need the news, he didn’t need their alarm clock, it didn’t matter what time it was, all that mattered was that it was time spent with the only two people who understood him, for better or for worse. Billie’s infrequent post card came, but Snowball convinced Brain to throw it away.

“Why keep something from a mouse who so bluntly rejected you? What kind of benefit does being her friend offer you? You must be truly desperate” He stopped answer any mail from his parents either, not that it held any real value. They were both narcissistic idiots who didn’t deserve the right to be in his life, even in written form. All they did was complain in their letters anyway, what difference did it make?

“We should watch that movie with living ocean! NARF!” Pinky spoke excitedly. “Moana, Pinky.”

They spent hours, sometimes days, watching movies and basically anything they could get their hands on. Snowball would cross his arms begrudgingly and take it all until he became aggravated enough to convince Brain to participate in a more challenging activity, but then Pinky would get bored and start whining. It would get a little draining at times, but all Brain had to do was think about being align again and he’d get straight back to compromising.

He’d set up a system in which e could alternate between activities frequently enough that neither Snowball nor Pinky would get too riled up while the other enjoyed themselves. Sometimes he’d multitask by putting on a movie in the background while he tinkered with some invention he’d forgotten about. After all, what was a relationship without hard work and compromise? Communication and what not was equally important, but Brain decided to work on one at a time.

Swept up, he didn’t see that the ghost had gotten legs and began walking beside him rather than levitating. It made for a nice touch in his mind, if anything. Making everything feel better, feel real. He just wanted it to be real. Why couldn’t it be- “Must you ponder such nonsense?” Snowball glared down at him with an annoyed expression. “Must you pry into my mind invasively?” Brain shot back. Pinky was sitting beside Brain with a goofy look on his face. “You tell ‘em, Brain” he encouraged.

Roman’s call meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Why check on him when he was clearly feeling better than ever? It was nonsense, Brain had to agree once with Snowball. He almost didn’t respond that’s how unnecessary he believed it to be. Roman was sounding more sporadic on the phone, like they were in some mind of crisis situation. Brain responded rather nonchalantly. This only made Roman grit his teeth loud enough to hear through the phone.

Why sleep when he could be with his friends? Why eat? Why drink? Why waste his time thinking of anything else? The possibilities were endless if he had the time, he had the time. They had the time. Why even bother caring about himself when he could think about Pinky and how happy he made Brain feel? Or how Snowball’s quips were a mere a cover and they still cared for each other? So what if the darkness under his eyes was becoming more visible by the day? He didn’t even remember how long it had been since Pinky’s death.

He wasn’t dead anyway, Brain had fooled himself. This was how things were meant to be. Them, all of them, living out their days together in ignorant bliss. Snowball had just ascended in a sense, and now they could fix their friendship, pave over every little crack until it was all smooth sailing again. Pinky’s ascension had been a minor bump in the road to an otherwise perfect relationship, what else could Brain ever want in life?

All ambitions had lost their teeth. Nothing could persuade him to even bother with outsiders. He was happy now, looking into Pinky’s bright blue eyes which had finally developed proper pupils again. Brain had complimented them and Pinky had blushed giddily. It was just like old times only better. Not even Roman could take it away from him when he so rudely visited without informing Brain in advance. Like he wanted to walk in on something bizarre.

He did, in fact, walk in on a rather loud argument with Snowball about who was the better chess player. Brain had been half way through his sixth point on the subject when Roman asked him who he was talking to again. Brain, irritated, pointed to Snowball and said as much. Roman furrowed his eyebrows in concentration and confusion. What was so complicated about it? Snowball was right there staring at him cockily like he’d already won the argument when they clearly weren’t done yet.

Roman said nobody was there and Snowball had died ages ago. Brain was personally insulted by not only the insinuation that he was incorrect, but by the concept of Snowball being gone. He couldn’t be gone because Brain still needed. Much was the same for Pinky, who was telling Brain to hug Romy really tight and tell him how much Pinky loved him. He’d do that when Roman started realising he was right.

Then Julia walked up behind Roman. She said that Billie was worried about Pinky and Brain as they hadn’t responded to her postcards. Brain waves a dismissive hand and said they weren’t important, that nothing was as important as spending time with Pinky and Snowball. He gestured in their direction. Julia shook her head like she knew something he didn’t. He turned his nose up at both Roman and Julia, moving another chess piece in the hopes that they’d go away soon.

~~~

Julia cupped her mouth slowly in disbelief, watching as Brain continued to discuss with thin air. She’d never expected this kind of reaction from him following Pinky’s death, maybe a mental breakdown but not of this extent. Brain was so lost without Pinky that he brought him back as a hallucination. Julia deduced it was some form of parapsychotic grief that had festered for quite some time, it was a lot stronger than other cases.

She’d found out about Pinky’s death about a week after when Billie received a call from Roman informing her of it. He’d been kind enough, even in his grief, to call and tell them about it. Brain hadn’t communicated with anyone other than his son for months, and even that grew increasingly infrequent as Roman had to move on with his own life.

Julia process this, as did Billie, on their own terms. Fond memories of Pinky’s sweetness and naivety almost made her want to ask Brain how he was feeling. Instead, she threw herself into her work, as she tended to do when upset. She built more in the following weeks than she had in the whole year prior. Things seemed to pick up as she slowly tried a few taking over the world plans that never came to fruition, but it was mostly for coping anyway.

She half expected to be fighting Brain over the world at some point, but he never came. Not that she wanted him to or anything, it was an unnecessary wrench in her plans, but that wasn’t the point. He’d completely lost motivation and that was understandable, but it seemed to drag out for long afterwards. When it hit the one year mark, Roman called frantically. He said that Brain was hearing things and sounded a little deranged. Of course, Julia knew what it was like to sound deranged, so she agreed to come by the lab with Roman.

She’d never seen Brain look so downright broken, inside and out. His fur was mangled and longer, sticking up in all sorts of directions. His eyes were bloodshot like he hadn’t slept in weeks, with dark bags that confirmed it. He was noticeably thinner and his fur was the same, the skin underneath more visible. He looked malnourished, sleep-deprived and sad. Incredibly sad. So much so that Julia wanted to give him a hug, and she made an effort to touch him as little as possible.

Roman was rightfully concerned about him, but hadn’t fully understood the extent to which Brain needed it. He was staring at the ground like all of this was his fault. Julia patted his shoulder in comfort before approaching the disheveled Brain. He winced, which hurt her more than she was willing to admit. She stood still beside him as he crouched down by the chessboard, shaking uneasily.

They didn’t exchange words, Brain looked up at Julia’s face, fully of sincere pity with no condescension, and then finally understood what was going on. He glanced around like he was looking for someone only to find they weren’t there. They were never there. And it hurt him so much that started crying. No loud sobs or cries, just silent tears running down his face as he stared off into nothingness.

Julia lifted him up into her arms and held him close, lying her chin on the top of his head. He cried into her neck with no sign of stopping. She clenched her arms around his smaller frame, so tight that he might be able to feel it. If his nerves went shot too much. She hoped there was something to salvage because at the end of the day Brain had meant something to her once and she’d never forgive herself for letting him degrade mentally without at least trying it interfere.

Roman sighed, looking at the old cage and all of Pinky’s belongings left perfectly intact like he was still there. It was an eerily clean and calm environment for someone who’s mind was probably so panicked and messy in that moment. Julia glanced back as if to silently call for him. Roman followed her, creasing his features in worry as she solemnly patted Brain’s back.

“He’s gone” She whispered. Brain sobbed that time.

Chapter 10: Touching noses

Summary:

TW for physical abuse. This was my contribution to Mother’s Day, I’m sorry Brain

Female mice were meant to develop maternal instincts after giving birth to their pups, it was basic knowledge of anyone who’d took the time to watch mice for a few minutes. Brain lost the chance to gain any of that before he even learned to speak. Mice expected to give birth to six to eight pups, it was the norm. Brain was an only child, an unhappy one at that. His parents were disappointed in their own shortcoming and decided to blame him for it.

He had no desire to have siblings, they’d be yet another nuisance in his life. They’d probably treat him the same way his parents did. He’d most likely be the runt of any litter he was a part of, and that was demeaning enough even in purely hypothetical thought. His mother’s crippling disappointment didn’t deter him from the opinion that siblings would only be a hindrance, however it came quite close.

Her disappointment made him do many things he didn’t want to, even as an adult. When he was a child, he’d bend over backwards in the hopes that she at least smile in his direction. Parents were meant to be nurturing but his were anything but. His father was much worse, talking little with his own son and ignoring him the majority of the time. Sometimes even Brain didn’t think he existed.

Brain was lonely and socially distant before he ever became intelligent. The other mice disgusted him, they simply weren’t of the same mindset as him, whatever that may be. It only further upset his mother. She had wanted a confident, outgoing group of kids who’d go on to cater to their every need. Instead they had an isolated, singular mess of a mouse, who had stretch marks twice as young as the other mice.

Body issues were the least of his worries. At least they could chalk it up to baby fat during that time and leave him alone about it. Social problems could be discarded if Brain pretended to enjoy being heckled by all his parent’s friends and their highly unimportant opinions on how things should be. To say they were conservative would be an understatement. They expected Brain to settle down when he got older with a partner (or two, his father whispered with a smirk) and have the pups his mother missed out on.

Not that it was never in the cards for him, but Brain wanted to accomplish something that warranted settling down somewhere with someone who’d probably be picked out for him. Who would actually agree, let alone be genuinely happy with, having children with him? Surely everyone had better things to do. Evidently, none of them did things that had any value. His mother crafted some shabby nest that kept Brain covered.

His father left many nights and came back with a different smell to him. Brain could easily pick up on things like that back then. He never questioned it, never needed to, because his mother was also acutely aware of the smell. It led to arguments, things being admitted that Brain wished he didn’t have to hear. He’d cover his ears and shake until there was silence again. Then he’d cry, and he’d cry until someone to him to shut up or to grow up.

When the fights got fairly heated, the physical fights began occurring. Brain would hear the impact of the hits and cower away somewhere, so distraught that he could barely breathe. Anytime his parents spoke with one another it caused him to tense up and feel an overwhelming wave of anxiety. It didn’t help that his parents never showed him any kindness, no affection of any kind. All he knew was neglect and abuse.

It got worse when it started being directed at him more. Now all his parent’s anger seemed to be his fault. His mother would comment on his weight or belittle his efforts to befriend someone while his father would hit him over the head and scream so loud that he’d hear a ringing in his ears. He pretended to move on from each and every situation, but it was building up inside. Unreleased rage and sadness culminated in Brain repressing everything.

Soon he felt nothing when these things happened. He didn’t respond or fight back, he let them go on for however long they wanted before sitting there, numb. Not even the hits hurt him. The bruises healed and it got harder it bruise him at all. His mother’s comments were nothing but white noise to his pitiful existence. Except for in his dreams.

In his dreams, all the awful things came flooding back seemingly ten times worse than before. They inflated so much that he almost felt they had become monstrous in his mind. He’d feel every slap, hit, kick. Every curse, comment or insult. And they’d haunt him till his eyes opened and he’d usually forget what had him so riled up.

Brain made a conscious decision that in the unlikely scenario he had his own children, he’d never treat them in such a way. He’d never let them stay up at night worrying when they were going to be hit again. Or let them fuss over something to cover stretch marks or scars that you could see through fur. He’d never be neglectful and try to stay as open-minded as possible. And perhaps he’d even like the person he had the child with.

What if he unintentionally ended up like his parents and became so unlikable that he’d live the rest of his life without making a single friend? A part of him didn’t entirely believe that was unrealistic thinking. If he was anything like his parents that he didn’t even want to around himself.

Roman was his first metaphorical taste of fatherhood. It was neither planned nor prepared for. He couldn’t even take care of himself half the time, Pinky had to be his rock. So what could he possibly offer to this creation that was part of him? That was part of Pinky? He was downright terrified. Terrified that he’d make the same mistakes as his own parents and scar Roman for life. He’d never be able to live with himself if his son turned out like him.

Pinky didn’t seem fazed at all, taking on motherhood better than he could remember any plan. He made sure that Roman at least had some kind of development in regards to self-esteem and happiness, things Brain never received as a child. Most importantly, he was very affectionate with Roman. Specifically, they’d touch noses and giggle with one another. They’d bond and laugh while Brain grumbled and struggled to even hold Roman.

He’d already failed as a father before they kid even grew up. At least he wasn’t arguing with Pinky over it, their usual bickering was mild compared to his parents. It did seem to still affect Roman, which worsened Brain’s worry. He was ruining this child like he ruined any other nice thing he came into constant with, he was surely going to fail, everything was doomed-

Pinky slid Roman into Brain’s hands suddenly, clapping joyfully. He’d said something about father-son time before skipping away to grab something. Brain glanced at the small mouse in his hands with a stern look. Roman stared back with an unreadable expression.
“I suppose I should indulge your simplistic joys, correct?” He questioned like he’d get a good response back. Roman giggled. Good thing his expectations were met.

Brain rolled his eyes as he had to move away from his desk to sit down and hold Roman properly. Eye level with Brain, Roman decided to be a brat and poke him a couple times in the face. Brain growled in warning hoping his son caught onto his annoyance. Perhaps he had the family awareness because he quickly stopped and minced Brain’s expression, laughing afterwards.

He was about to get more irritated when he realised something. Roman was almost the exact same as him when he was younger, down to the looks and naivety. He was just as temperamental and preferred to roam around independently, much to Pinky’s dismay. He was the practical spitting image of Brain and that made how he thought of him even worse.

He counts be so dismissive of their time together, not when he wanted so much more for his son. He wasn’t, as his mother loved to point out, a complete and butter disappointment in every way. He wasn’t going to be. Brain was going to do something about his distance with his son, make the effort his own mother couldn’t. Reluctantly, almost like he was afraid of rejection, Brain pulled Roman closer and slowly touched their noses together for a moment.

He waited for Roman to start crying or pull away, but he only giggled again and moved his nose from side to side, smiling at Brain. His heart almost couldn’t take it. Brain smiled back with genuine joy and huffed a laugh. He held Roman close to his chest and hugged him briefly before returning him to Pinky, who acted as if he hadn’t seen Roman in years. It was such a wonderful moment that Brain hoped it meant that he wasn’t becoming his parents slowly like he’d suspected.

Chapter 11: Cuddling

Summary:

TW for physical abuse, toxic relationships, self-hate
It gets better at the end I swear.

Being consistently happy wasn’t real. It wasn’t a mindset or a lifestyle you had to follow to achieve true happiness because it’s different for everyone. And it wasn’t always there to chase the monsters away, to make the bad times worth the struggle you to go through. Sometimes a bad day was a bad day and you just had to push through it in the hopes of a brighter tomorrow. Brain didn’t really know what a happier life meant, if he was honest.

He thought that being happy meant comfort and safety, regardless of the hardships you had to endure in order to keep it. Sometimes the minimal delusion of safety wasn’t worth the building suffering he had to experience on the daily because he was too scared to look beyond the horizon. Wanting more meant letting go of what he had, and even though it was torture having only Snowball, a part of him couldn’t imagine a future without him.

Brain didn’t want to be surrounded by hatred anymore, but they were so used to each other. Nothing was ever new or unexpected, and Brain hated change. He’d rather live a lie than face the ugly truth of their situation. They lasted well into their equivalent of late teens after the splicing. Brain had developed most of his insecurities by then. They had always been there, prodding his mind with unwanted thoughts that threatened to consume him. But they never had a real impact until Snowball.

He hated himself. He hated himself so much that he dissociated and felt like who he was hating was another person. He tried writing these feelings down but couldn’t stand the phrasing, the stupidly short sentences or the needlessly long ones with too many commas. He hated how he suddenly forgot how to spell easy words. He hated everything he wrote and wished to purge it from existence. Brain felt like he was lying to himself whenever he got too far into it.

He felt like an attention-seeker, a narcissist who wallowed in self-pity until someone idiotically approached him and listened to his sorrow. Until they eventually left. Everyone left. He didn’t blame them, Snowball stuck around because he was so engrained into Brain’s conscious. He knew Brain would never leave. He needed a better life but he didn’t know where to go or where to start. How to just have the confidence that people preached in self-help books. It seemed so much simpler on paper.

If he thought about it for too long, he would feel this aching in the middle of his chest that made him want to rip his chest cavity open. Then he’d get so angry he’d break something that meant nothing in retrospect. Or he’d cry and sob until it evolved into anger. Either way he ended up just as frustrated as before. He stopped writing or working on plans for days at a time, sometimes a week. What was the point if nobody would ever appreciate it? Brain hadn’t done work for himself in so long he’d lost the ability to.

Everything he did was for other people to see, a show to make himself feel better about not being smart enough, not being handsome enough, not being perfect enough. It felt so fake yet it was his only truth. Snowball pitied him to some degree but not in the traditional sense. No, he pitied Brain because he thought that someone who was truly smart would know all the answers to his questions. Brain didn’t.

They lived a miserable existence together, that much was known. Snowball needed a person to push around and Brain needed something to be a constant in his life so they stayed together. They sometimes didn’t exchange words for a long time, comfortable in their shared silence. Brain had become accustomed to Snowball’s mood swings. He went from furious to joyful to brooding. Brain would do the same, old habits died hard. They had their own system nobody else could follow.

Brain found himself listening to music for large expanses of time. Sinatra and Gershwin pulled him away from the sour mood inside. Pressing his back into the cool, almost piercing bars of the cage, he pretended not to hear Snowball fly into a rage. He pretended not to feel the fists thrown in his direction, or the ones hitting him in the head. It was his own fault, Snowball had said, it’s a big target.

Brain lightly poked his black eye, wincing at the pain he’d caused himself. He couldn’t even look at his reflection, shamefully looking away from the mirror. He stared at the ground with so much guilt. He hated himself. He almost believed that Snowball hated him too, but then they’d lie down together and…Snowball would cuddle him. Hold him close but not too tight. It was bizarre yet strangely comforting

He shouldn’t feel comforted by Snowball at all. He really shouldn’t. But he received love no where else. So he clung desperately to whatever he got, even if it meant appearing even more pathetic to Snowball. He’d slowly grow apathetic overtime and not really care what he thought anyway. On cold nights, Brain would sneak into Snowball’s cage and shake him gently, to which he would get either a grumble in return, or a slightly outstretched arm for Brain to move in.

It didn’t make a lot of sense. Snowball treated him like garbage the majority of the time. He gave Brain migraines with their arguing. He gave Brain bruises with his beatings. He cause Brain heartache when he insulted him, about things that he couldn’t even fix. If he could somehow make his body in proportion, or make his appearance remotely appealing, he would have done so already.

They days went by slowly, Brain having nothing particularly distracting to do when he wasn’t working. He’d sit there and feel sorry for himself until Snowball kicked him in the side or got his attention another way. Sometimes he forgot to sleep and end up approaching Snowball’s cage in search of comfort only to find him awake and already agitated. He managed to be angry at Brain before he couldn’t do anything to warrant it. Then Brain had to make up for it.

Snowball got more temperamental by the day, not to mention his growing irritation at not just being handed the world through malicious actions. He was willing to murder, manipulate and lie to get just about anything he wanted. That’s where Brain could distinguish a line between the two of them. He had the moral compass not to do those things, but it was sometimes forgotten about. He didn’t have anyone to discuss right and wrong with growing up, so he made his own decisions.

One day he made a decision that would change his life for the better, but ultimately the worst for Snowball. In an act of fear or perhaps desperation, he made the scientists see how violent Snowball was and he was swiftly removed. That being, they sent him away to another lab and Brain was left all alone. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, his bruises were finally allowed to heal.

The scientists must’ve been worried about his social development, because the gave him a cage mate. Pinky, the most irritating mouse he’d ever met who was strangely similar to him as a child. He’d forgotten what pure bliss it was to simple live until Pinky showed up, forgot what happiness was, or what it could be. Not just a subconscious thought, but in the light of day. Pinky would come to love him, hopefully a little more than anybody else.

Brain loved him just as much, but had no idea how to communicate it without stumbling and failing. He wasn’t good with words when it came to emotional discussions, he wasn’t the grand gesture type. Then he realised how much they touched one another and knew he didn’t even need to communicate it yet. He’d brush his hand against Pinky’s back when walking past him, hold his hands, pat his head.

Pinky’s favourite was winter cuddles. They’d hold each other so strongly that Brain wouldn’t be able to leave even if he tried. The warmth was too appealing and Pinky was so soft compared to Snowball. He had slower breaths, soft fur, and the gentleness in his heart to hug Brain without contempt. Jokes about his appearance we’re discussed and Pinky respected his wishes as one should. Their occasional bops on the head were at Pinky’s request because of how amusing he thought it was.

Their relationship had its own share of problems, their own quarrels they needed to work through. Brain didn’t mind because Pinky was trying too. Pinky actually wanted him around, cared about him. And for once in forever Brain didn’t think he hated himself anymore.

Chapter 12: Philosophical discussions

Summary:

DP has a lot of trouble sleeping

A poorly executed cup of tea, three guards who decided to rebel and Julia’s mood swings at full force weren’t enough to deter Dark Pinky’s good mood. Usually all it took was a fraction of one of those things to set him off. Why did he feel so particularly cheerful? He hadn’t experienced one single nightmare the night before. It was beyond a common occurrence to receive several excruciatingly long night terrors that kept him up more than once.

Would he ever admit that was the reason he stayed up sometimes in fear? Of course not. That would mean he was a coward, and what kind of example would that set? Certainly not one he was aiming for. They made him more irritable if anything, which only affected others. A lack of sleep was just another thing he had to live with. Julia had started to list his symptoms out loud and calling him a self-deprecating insomniac. He punched the wall so hard that it had a hole in it.

Still, it wasn’t necessarily the staying awake that bothered him, he’d grown used to that when he was younger. What bothered him was the contents of the nightmares. They varied depending on his feelings throughout the day and whether or not he thought about Brain. On less reflective days he had horrible images of overwhelming clouds of black that slowly consumed him as he ran alone through a endless landscape. Those were the pleasant ones. Others depicted space slowly closing in around him, closing in to the point he felt he would pop.

He never made it to the end.

Nevertheless, he’d pull through these nightmares with a mere cold sweat and sudden urge to consume copious amounts of whiskey. It didn’t matter to him too much. Unless they were the nightmare, not just any random one off. It consumed his thoughts for days on end which only managed to bring it back for round two. Julia and Billie kept their distance from him during those times. Julia mumbles incoherently about more symptoms before one look from Dark Pinky leaves her pale.

They were stupid things, dreams and nightmares. They contributed nothing to the mind other than needless torture. If he wanted that, well- he dare not think of that. So he decided to find some medication for it. And by him, he meant Julia had to come up with something. She did it fairly quickly, most likely to avoid Pinky’s wrath. He’d appreciate the compliance if he wasn’t so drained. He took a little more than Julia recommended, just to be sure. He’d grown immune to most medication.

He got a seperate one that would knock him out hopefully a little faster than he could naturally. Which resulted in him collapsing accidentally onto his bedroom floor. His neck would punish him severely later. For now, he was actually about to go into deep sleep whilst skipping the whole terrible nightmares thing when something strange happened. He ended up in a dream, sort of, it was more of a space.

The entire area was lit slightly yellow, the happy kind he used to dote on, with him standing on a patch of land floating in the middle of it. A large, old oak tree was just behind him, shading him from the light. It’s leaves were a lush green and even it’s bark looked soft. Despite falling asleep half dressed, he was fully clothed in this, spiked shoulder pads and all. He glanced around wondering if there was anything other than him and the tree. There didn’t appear to be. He sat down cautiously under it, leaning lightly against the trunk.

That was the beginning of his dreams, so to speak. He’d take his medication, get knocked out shortly after, go to the tree, before waking up with a serious pain in the neck. Julia would see him brighter than usual and nod knowingly. A part of him wished to ask if that was the intention of the medication, but didn’t want to delve into other possibility that it wasn’t and she’d think him a fool. He didn’t ask.

Nothing really changed about the tree overtime, it didn’t grow or lose its leaves, it stayed frozen in time like a capsule. The grass beneath remained soft and not flattened after he got up from it, like he was never even there. It got a little boring, well, most of the time, but he preferred that over nightmares. He longed momentarily for a way to just sleep normally in a way where he wouldn’t have to be aware of time passing.

It had been tolerable until Brain showed up out of the blue. Not his Brain, half alive and partly cyborg, but the normal Brain. The one who always side-eyed him in a way that just made him want to….he wasn’t too sure actually, kill him? Hug him? It didn’t matter. He was invading Pinky’s one place to be truly alone. “What the hell are you doing here?!” He shouted a little louder than expected. He was angry, it was definitely justified. Brain huffed a sigh like he was being nagged.

“I was simply experimenting with ways to reduce my difficulty to sleep, excuse my bettering myself, your Highness” Brain replied sarcastically. Okay, now he wanted to kill Brain.
“Well, couldn’t you do it somewhere else?”
“Do you even know what here is?” The thing he’d been wondering in the back of his head for the longest time had been suddenly pointed out and now he felt silly. “How do I even know there is a here? Gorgias says that the only existence that you can confirm is your own” Pinky crossed his arms triumphantly.

“An inherently self-centred belief that has most likely been debunked by now has nothing to do with the existence of a subconscious plain, which I think you’ll find is idealism, not Solipsism” Brain cross his arms, mirroring Pinky’s know-it-all expression. This mouse was starting to get on his nerves. “So what are you saying? This is all a reality that relies fundamentally on a mental level?”
“You’re no Kant if you can’t figure that out.”

Pinky growled, balling his hands into fists in preparation or punch anything close enough to him. “You listen here you little pesticide” Pinky hissed out in a strained voice. “This is my tree, this is my mental level, why must you invade everything of mine?” He slammed his hands to his sides in exasperation. Brain rolled his eyes in annoyance. “This isn’t yours, it’s clearly something we share, or else I wouldn’t be able to appear here” He spoke in a way that made it sound like Pinky was the dumb one.

“How do I know you’re real, hm? How’d you even get here?” Pinky took a step closer towards him, getting more agitated by the minute. “Enlighten me, short stack”
“Don’t-“
“I’m not afraid to bite you, Brain.”
Brain sighed slower second time around, he must’ve been as tired as Pinky was. “Look, I was experimenting with dream reducing medication because I couldn’t stand another, however subconscious, simulated failure” Brain drummed his fingers in either compulsion or anxiety. “I wanted to sleep, is that such a crime? Clearly I can’t even have that.”

Maybe their intentions weren’t so different after all. All either of them wanted to do was escape in one way or another. Still, Pinky was short on sympathy and still fairly irritable from still catching up on sleep. He looked at the bags under Brain’s eyes and couldn’t help but feel a little cruel kicking him out. But if he let Brain stay, he’d officially have nothing to himself anymore. It was both an easy and difficult decision.

Notes:

Do you think he should make Brain leave or not?

Chapter 13: Handholding

Summary:

Dark Pinky is just an icon okay

Dark Pinky’s eyes traced the darkness around Brain’s eyes. He sighed, discontented with his unceasing inclination for the smaller mouse. One look and his engrossing hatred was history. Pinky knew that was definitely going to come back to bite him at some point, if not right in that moment. Brain looked askance, his fingers tangled subconsciously. Pinky was able to deduce in a matter of seconds he was quite nervous, which fit under the umbrella of fear, an emotion Brain didn’t like to openly express. The only emotions he believed were favourable was anger and disgust.

Pinky knew that wasn’t entirely true, an act put on to make Brainn look callous. He was anything but, sensitive and insecure down to the core of his bones. It was hidden under layers of shame, denial and repression. He chuckled to himself, Brain quirked his eyebrow in response. The expanse of silence only increased Brain’s irritability. Pinky huffed another sigh.
“Fine, do as you please, but my biting threat still stands” Pinky grumbled.

Brain’s body - covered with much thinner hair, Pinky noticed - relaxed ever so slightly, his shoulders dropping. Pinky snorted, making Brain jumpy always amused him. The same spot he sat in seemingly called to him, and Pinky turned his attention towards sitting down. He slid slowly down the trunk due to physical exhaustion, small bits of bark breaking off along with him. Pressing the back of his skull to the base of the tree, Pinky felt a sense of calm fill him. It was still unfortunately occupied by Brain, whom he’d lost track of.

Pinky opened one eye, half-lidded, and scanned the area. Brain was sitting on the grass, elbow propped up on his thigh supporting his head. Because his eyes were so much smaller, Brain looked like he was asleep when his eyes were downward. Pinky could always see the tiny line of red where his eyelid was just not touching the bottom. He appeared to be pondering deeply, his brow creased. Pinky nearly laughed at that look on his face. Instead he scoffed. His powers didn’t seem to work here, but it didn’t matter, he always knew what Brain was thinking. Regardless, he decided to entertain that funny look.

“What’s your bloody problem? Poit” Pinky loosely cross his arms, laying his legs out lax on the grass. Brain blinked, glancing up at Pinky for only a millisecond. “I’m remembering the periodic table” Brain mumbled, whispering something incoherently to himself. Right, that’s what he did when he was uncomfortable. Either that or the numbers of pi. Pinky could still hear ‘hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium..” in his own mind. Pinky raised unsurprised eyebrows, yawning.
“You need a hobby, shortie” Pinky closed his eyes again.

Brain groaned but made no protest, he was making active attempts not to frustrate Pinky. He seemed uneasy. “I have no time for that,” he replied curtly. Pinky hummed in response.
“You have now, right? If we’re going to be stuck here, I at least want to see you try and be productive.” Brain rolled his eyes, his head down as if to hide his annoyance.
“What do you propose I do?”
“Stamp collecting?”
“You’re insufferable.”
Pinky cackled, leaning forward with the widest smile he’d had in weeks. He was cut short by a stamp popping out of thin air and drifting down into Brain’s lap. “Well, there you are then, get collecting” Brain deadpanned and Pinky only laughed harder.

When he awoke to a dark green blanket covering his body, Pinky knew Julia was skeptical of him. There was no other reason she’d come to check on him other than she thought something was wrong. Nevertheless, he carried on like usual to throw her off, pouring himself another unsatisfying cup of tea. Billie made some off-hand comment about coffee and it made Pinky wonder if Brian drinking his morning coffee right now.

If he was cracking his knuckles while the water boiled, of his Pinky was making conversation as he pliantly made Brain coffee. If he was getting a teabag for Pinky. If he was thinking of Dark Pinky at all, in a similar way. He realised he’d been staring at the ground for far too long and rushed out of then room. Since when did he have such intrusive thoughts? That stopped happening, well, it stopped! At some point.

Still the thought hung in the back of his head all morning. He was miserable for the duration of it. Billie furrowed her eyebrows in sweet ignorance as Julia analysed his face. Sometimes he wished he could silence everyone’s minds for a day, just to get some peace. He rubbed his tired eyes, wondering how he got so much sleep yet so little relief. Maybe it was psychological. Ha! Another thing to add onto the list, Freud would’ve had a field day with him.

By midday he was already yearning for sleep, barely able to prop himself up on the wall. He managed to “going to bed” out quickly to Billie without passing out, but he still felt the urge to take the medication. In case he had more night terrors, well, day terrors. And also so he had a high chance of getting to the tree.

Brain wasn’t there, of course, probably off acting out one of his plans by now. God, did that felt so nostalgic to think. In the meantime, Pinky tried to keep himself busy, decided to test that summoning stuff Brain had figured out last time. Pinky sat at the base of the tree once more. “Okay, I want…cheese, specifically cheddar” it took a moment for a small poof sound, which was followed by a small circle of cheese dripping into Pinky’s hand.

“Not too shabby, tree” When he tried to eat it, however, it pooled into thin air. Pinky groaned in disappointment.

Brain showed up what felt like a few hours later, looking just as drained as last time. He wobbled where he stood, hardly able to concentrate on Pinky. The coffee thing came back to Pinky and curiosity killed the mouse this time. “Do you still make your Pinky tea?”
Brain rubbed his head, wincing at most likely a headache. He stepped further, dropping onto the grass. “Yes, I do,” he replied tiredly.
“Why?” Pinky asked.

Brain was either delirious from sleep deprivation or just really, really confused. Eventually he grasped what Pinky had asked. “It’s part of my routine, I don’t like to break from the norm-“
“That’s a load of, considering we used to take nights off so you could go flaunting around, trying to get some girl” Pinky didn’t realise how much dislike he had for Brain’s ‘lovers’ up until now.

“Seems like a big goddamn break, don’t you think?”
“That’s different”
“I’m sure it is, you never even liked it when I comforted you, but you were happy to make drinks for me? You’re so confusing!”

Brain growled “You’re confusing! One second you’re laughing the next you’re having a temper tantrum! I never know where I stand with you!” Pinky hoisted himself so fast to his feet he nearly fell over. “Well I can’t stand you!” You never showed an ounce of kindness.” Brain had never looked so personally offended before “That is NOT true, I went to hell for you, I chose you- I ALWAYS choose you over everything else.” Pinky had let any good memory slip his mind in the heat of the moment.

He looked at Brain again, his features clenched up into anger. The darkness under his eyes, the bright red hue he used to gaze lovingly into. He’d spent a long time thinking about the bad times he’d forgotten everything else. Brain turned on his heel “I know I wasn’t the best friend I could’ve been, you are a constant warning to remind my Pinky I care, but I swear to god I’m leaving if it means I have to pinch-“
“Wait.”

Pinky grabbed Brain’s hand, partly in panic and partly by instinct. The warmth of Brain’s palm almost took away all the anger they had between them. He was barely looking at Pinky, who was pitifully on his knees. He wished he could slap himself out of it. He didn’t care that Brain wanted to walk away, he didn’t care that Brain made wonderful tea, he didn’t.
“Was it white tea?” A sigh was the only noise before Brain replied “Including your constant insistence of adding honey, despite it completely disrupting the flavour.”

Chapter 14: Sharing jokes

Summary:

This is my contribution to pride month, I’ll probably make more one shots around it. WOOOO PRIDE MONTHHHHHH BILLIE X JULIA TIMEEEEE

Walking down the smooth, grey pavement basked in the scintillating moonlight, Julia couldn’t help but feel slight anxiety. The air was warm, laced with the scents of nearby restaurants and exotic flowers from the nearby botanical garden. Billie had the most beautiful a-line French violet dress, flowing in the gentle breeze just above her knees. Her big, azure eyes glittered as her grey hair fluttered in the wind. She was positively breathtaking, literally, Julia was having an issue breathing properly whenever Billie glanced in her direction.

Julia felt underdressed herself, wearing a simple strapless jade green dress. Her hair felt unkempt by comparison, she just couldn’t get it to stay down the way she wanted. Biting the inside of her cheek, she wondered what Billie was thinking. If she was having second thoughts specifically. “What cha thinkin’ about?”

Billie’s Brooklyn accent made anything she said sound ten times more sweet, even if she was threatening someone’s life. Julia was both at a loss for words and breath.
“….Just, uh, how nice those macarons in the window over there look.”
Julia gestured loosely to a nearby store.

“You should try my mom’s, they’re to die for” Billie suggested, ending with a soft giggle. Julia huffed a laugh, her voice nearly cracking.
“Where, pray tell, are we off to? I’m dying of anticipation” Julia questioned, trying to keep the silence away. She walked with her hands behind her back to avoid fidgeting.

“Well, since it’s pride and all, I thought maybe we could go to that joint around town who had the pride themed drinks, I gotta know what a bi-tea entails.” Julia could feel the tension slip almost instantaneously when they started talking, it melted along with her heart.

“I’d say something that has sharp teeth, hahaha…” Julia trailed off, scratching the back of her neck nervously. Billie snorted at her joke regardless of its silliness, which made Julia laugh more in earnest. “Must be some kinda cat or something’, right?”
“I was thinking more bear.”

Billie titled her head, casting a curious glance forward. Julia tilted her head similarly before the device jolted her. She grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked, growling at the pain that came as quickly as it left. Billie made a small ‘oh’ sound before cupping Julia’s forearm, holding her up. Blinking several times as her double vision fixed itself, Julia let out a long exhale. She looked upward at Billie, who was giving her a concerned look, frowning.

Julia laughed awkwardly, straightening her back to regain her composure. It only deepened Billie’s frown. “I’m so incredibly sorry, I thought I’d gotten a better hold on this, I swear it won’t happen-“
“It’s okay, hon, you can’t control it.”
Julia didn’t need to hear or say anything beyond that, Billie had already made her feel less insecure about it. Julia cleared her throat
“What were you looking at?” She raised an eyebrow in questioning.

Billie tipped her head in the same direction “it’s the restaurant, just over there.”
Julia could see it now, boldly coloured letters out the front with about a handful of people sitting inside. Echoes of laughter and chatter could be heard even from where they were standing. Julia glanced briefly at Billie, who smiled sweetly in return.

The walk to the restaurant didn’t take long, but Julia could’ve done it forever. Due to Billie being so worried, she linked arms with Julia, leaving her almost breathless yet again. The warmth of Billie was better than any air Julia could breathe. Trying to take deep, slow breaths, Julia tightened her grip just a little.

Sitting down at the table took the final edge off, and they talked so naturally that Julia felt like she was talking to herself. It flowed, and the multitude of themed drinks she ordered only eased them more. Billie talked about her mom, Julia talked about politics, somehow they weaved into one. Billie gave her opinions on political figures and Julia lamented the lack of decency within them.

Then the topic of Brain came up, and Julia seized the moment to finally express her thoughts to someone who’s understand.
“And! They sleep in the same bed, how can you say you only tolerate someone if you’re willing to share a bed with them? It’s lunacy” Julia gestured with her hands, waving them around a lot as she spoke. It was something she’d picked up during her campaign.

“Have you heard all their nicknames? I’m surprised they aren’t married yet” Billie remarked with a grin, it was fun pointing out the obliviousness of Brain, who liked to think he was the smartest person in the world.
“I think they are already, in the emotional sense”
“Ha! Brain working through anythin’ other than ambition in the emotional sense.” They shared laughter. “Nah, I’m kiddin’, he’s quite the emotional type, I dare say romantic.” Julia carefully sipped her drink. “I’ll believe it when I see it” she chuckled, the idea of Brain being romantic amused her greatly.

“I was hoping I might be able to show you some romancin’” Billie replied shyly, brushing her just behind her ear. Julia’s face went noticeably more red. It was one of the best nights in their shared life.

Chapter 15: Sharing smiles

Summary:

Have some nice baby Roman

Notes:

I’m starting to think I’m a little in over my head here, writing so many one shots, so they will be a bit shorter and hopefully more frequent. I don’t want to be stuck in a routine of worrying about updating this with 1,000 words each night, but I also don’t want to be doing this till next year.

Becoming a father was never on Brain’s bucket list. In order to do that he’d have to find someone he trusted enough, someone who was far more caring than him, someone reliable. Frankly, he didn’t believe anyone could possibly meet his standards. Furthermore, looking after a child was both irritating and headache inducing, he hated the sound of crying. Brain couldn’t see what Pinky saw in parenthood, it seemed like a waste of time and resources.

In the early time of having Roman, he clung onto this idea. He couldn’t understand Pinky’s instincts or how he could possible enjoy being screamed at by something half his size. Pinky said he was used to it, Brain asked if he’d had more children in the past. Pinky snorted and said never mind. Brain scowled at the…creature staring back at him, who had his pink eyes. It was like looking in a mirror, he looked the exact same when he was a child.

The thing is, when he was a child, he never complained this much. In fact, he could say with earnest that he was silent for the entirety of his child, except for when he cried. Anything he said, or wanted to say, was kept in his own head.

Maybe that’s why it was so big, it held all his restrained thoughts. Regardless, he was obedient, Brain couldn’t say the same for Pinky. Judging by the way that family interacted, he didn’t know if they had a single silent day in their life.

Roman would cry late into the night, his wails barely muffled by the pillows pressed to Brain’s ears. Pinky would try to make it more light hearted, even offer Roman to him, but Brain would only turn away from in a huff, scoffing at the idea of holding such a whiny thing. He did feel a little bad for Pinky, who’s eyes were encircled by a dark ring of exhaustion. He nearly got up once, but decided against it.

Pinky never complained despite being the one who dealt with Roman the most. He even found time in the day to still sway Brain out of his terrible mood somehow. Brain had to commend him for that, not snapping under the pressure. Pinky would stumble for a moment, too tired to steadily hold himself up and that’s when Brain began properly considering ways to help with Roman.

It had been selfish, and a little immature, to dump Roman onto Pinky simply because he was upset at another failed plan. He should’ve been used to failure- no, he wasn’t going to lie around feeling sorry for himself tonight, it would get him no where. Instead, he gently ushered Pinky to bed early and insisted that he could handle Roman on his own. How hard could it possibly be?

He was seriously considering eradicating his own eardrums not half an hour later.

Inhaling deeply and trying to keep his unstable composure. He reluctantly picked up the crying child. Rolling his eyes with irritability, he pondered the idea of a nanny. No, Pinky wouldn’t like that, and where would he get the money? Back to square one. He was ashamed to say he had to look up ways to quiet a baby. It wasn’t something he could become an expert in, and thus he never researched. He hadn’t prepared for it in risky either because he expected to deal with a clone, an exact copy.

Roman made a small growl at Brain. Okay, he was close enough to an exact copy, he had the stubbornness of an ox and got annoyed at all of his parents tactics. And he somehow managed to figure out a deadpan expression at a month old. It was reserved especially for Brain whenever he tried just about anything. Kids were going to be the end of him. If Pinky got his way and they had more, which he wouldn’t.

Still, he liked the idea of a daughter. Something about it just made Brain sentimental.

But all he had was Roman so he’d have to cope with it. Somehow. Pinky was sound asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, so Brain had no hope of assistance, not that he needed it. He was perfectly capable- and Roman was crying again, great, fantastic, couldn’t ask for a better life. This really brought Brain’s faith in his capabilities into question. Why did everything have to give him an existential crisis?

He stood there for a moment, looking down at his child. Their child. God, Brain never thought he’d say that, even in his own head.

He awkwardly pressed Roman to his chest, swaying slowly in a rocking motion like that would silence the living siren. He understood why some parents ended up giving their child an iPad, it eliminated the noise complaints, but it seperate them. Brain sighed tiredly, but he wouldn’t have slept regardless of Roman so he couldn’t blame the little mouse. Maybe he was a little cute, when he was asleep, even with Brain’s features.

The tiredness seemed to catch up with Roman as he yawned, letting out a little squeak. Brain had to start remembering pi so his heart wouldn’t melt. Roman looked up at him, those silly little teeth proudly sticking out, and smiled. Brain had no number in the world he could read out that would stop him from exploding internally. Because without a shadow of a doubt, that was Pinky’s grin on their son’s face and it was adorable.

It made Brain want to hold him forever. World be damned.

Hesitating for a moment, Brain didn’t really want to put down the now peacefully resting Roman. But he couldn’t stand there the whole night, even if he trained his body to sleep upright. Pinky would surely worry when his cage mate wasn’t laying beside him, it would freak him out. Brain wasn’t sure why, but Pinky just couldn’t sleep without him. Psychically, he would lay there uncharacteristically deep in thought till Brain came to bed.

So Brain compromised. He let both him and Roman sleep by bringing him to bed with them. He made little noise lifting the covers and slipping in, Brain was very good at doing it quietly. His parents scolded him for waking them or just plain bothering them with the sound. Pinky didn’t even know he was there until Roman was placed in the middle of the two. The little snores made Brain worried he’d passed on more than his looks and attributes, god help Roman’s future partner.

Brain stared at the both of them for a moment. Watching Pinky’s chest slowly rise and fall was oddly therapeutic, he felt more in the moment than he ever had before. Roman tossed and turned a little, but Brain shushed him, and it worked surprisingly well. Patting Roman’s back, he went to withdraw his hand. Until Roman grabbed it with his tiny hands, clutching it like his life depended on it. He smiled slightly in his sleep.

Brain didn’t pull back his hand the entire night.

Chapter 16: Laying your head on someone’s shoulder

After their very messy failed marriage, Brain half expected to get his head bitten off by Julia. He wouldn’t have blamed her either, she had every right to extremely agitated with him. She was surprisingly civil, despite the chip in her head. It was something Brain would regret doing the most beside a few other things. She seemed to take most things gracefully, able to contain her feelings and work through it. She would make a much better ruler than him, but he pretended not to think that.

Sometimes she’d call at random hours. She’d ask about how Brain was doing before he asked how she was, they’d talk about Pinky or Billie before ending it shortly after. They didn’t argue as much as Brain expected them to. They didn’t really have much to argue on anyway, everything was said and done. So why did he still feel the need to call her every now and again? They didn’t need each other.

Julia said that they’d always have a certain comfortable nature about them because of how well they knew one another. That despite their separation, it didn’t erase what they both already knew. Like how Brain knew Julia was insecure about her nose shape, or hated the feeling of cotton on her teeth. Or how she knew he read romance novels. It was like what he had with Pinky but different. There was no underlying love, it was just being used to someone.

Julia lost her cool at Billie for some reason or another. She didn’t want to discuss it nor did Brain want to ask, in fear of getting her worked up even more. She didn’t want to face the sickly sweet Pinky and talk to him about it either. She sat on the windowsill of the lab with Brain for a little while. She looked drained, like she hadn’t been taking care of herself. He deduced that was the problem. Julia rubbed her temples and let out a sigh.

Looking defeated, she fell to her side and lied he’d head on Brain’s shoulder. There was no affection, just silent confirmation that it was going to be okay. Brain didn’t acknowledge the action and Julia didn’t move afterwards. They both stared out into the bright sunset wondering if the other was going to mention how tired they were. How the both of them looked a little thinner since last seeing each other. Brain clenched his fists and Julia twitched.

Neither said a word, even when Julia got up to leave.

Pinky was the next one to be upset, apparently the couple in his show were out of whack and he didn’t understand why they didn’t follow his very specific expectations. More importantly, a guy hadn’t proposed yet and it was driving Pinky insane, his insanity was driving Brain just as crazy. Tears welling up in his eyes, he dramatically sat beside Brain on the floor, staring aimlessly at the plans. He made no comment on them, he clearly wasn’t even reading them.

His sadness was infectious and soon Brain felt upset too. He couldn’t work with all this gloom, surprisingly. He patted Pinky’s hand sympathetically and told him there are other shows and it’s not worth sulking over. Pinky sniffled and rested his head in the crook of Brain’s neck, but it reached all the way to his shoulder. Grabbing a fistful of Brain’s fur, Pinky clutched him sadly. Brain wanted to groan but decided against it. He rubbed small circles into Pinky’s back.

Unlike Julia, Pinky made him feel all sorts of feelings. He was irritated, warm, slightly worried about Pinky’s ability to cope with said tv show and overall pretty angry at his lack of a proper plan. So really, the whole night was full of disappointment. Brain out his plans aside and half heartedly tried to comfort Pinky without seeming apathetic. Everything Pinky did was full of emotion, the least that Brain could do was listen.

The interaction with Julia was forgotten as Pinky fell asleep lying on Brain’s shoulder, mouth open and breathing into his face. Brain had half a mind to bop him, but couldn’t see the use in it if Pinky was fast asleep. The thought was always there though. Instead he nudged the taller mouse awake some time later in order to drag his half-awake body to bed. Hauling his body sounded more accurate as he had to keep Pinky from falling asleep on his every five seconds.

He was definitely not letting people lay on his shoulder again.