Author's Note: This is the fourth iteration of this story that I have written, it is currently the best one and so I have decided to run with it. A considerable amount of thought has gone into what this story should be and I feel that this is the most honest piece that could have ever resulted from it.

Powering on his computer, a bottle of Jack Daniels with an empty glass next to it and the eyes of three days without sleep, Brian combed the fur on the top of his head, trying to make himself look presentable, and turned on his webcam. Adjusting the white balance, for it was considerably darker in the kitchen than the rest of the house, even with the overhead light, Brian noticed that a small pimple, about the size of a 2mm lead mechanical pencil, was just above his right eye. Popping it, the dog examined himself; sighing, content with his current appearance, Brian began recording and immediately poured himself a glass of Daniels.

"Well, I might as well talk about the League-"

Downing the first glass and shaking himself, making him look more like a drunk than he already was, Brian, hiccupping and hating himself at the same time for doing so, retracted. Hanging his head and rubbing his eyes, trying to regain focus, Brian simply decided to start over.

"My name is Brian Griffin" Brian began, "And I think its time I set the record straight. When I started this thing it wasn't out of the goodness of my heart. It was part of a job, a job that I only had because of my community service, which I only received due to my lawyers being extremely convincing to Judge Brown that I'm not a threat. Before all of this, before Batdog, I wasn't a good person."

It was then that the doorbell rang. Brian, turning around and casually lifting his ears in an effort to hear who was at the door but because ears do not have the same advantage as eyes, he resorted to standing up, stopping his recording to answer the door. Making his way out of the room, the dog ran into Peter, who just gotten up and was heading for an early breakfast.

"Morning Peter" Brian said in greeting, smiling a bit, turning his head a bit to mask the smell of the alcohol, "Sleep well?"

Peter shrugged and rubbed his eyes. In honesty he did not sleep well; mostly because he was kept up all night due to the broken window in his room; a result of a rogue baseball a few days before, in which Joe and Peter, bored at home, decided to play bedroom baseball from their windows. Mostly, it consisted of throwing the ball between them, their torsos hanging precariously out the window. Later that evening, an owl, whose name was Jamieson, decided to make himself comfortable in the tree that was situated next to Peter's window; and every hour on the hour, he would hoot as he hunted for field mice in the backyard.

"Not particularly Brian" Peter answered, "That owl kept me up last night. I don't know how Lois stands it."

"Ambien!" Lois exclaimed, immediately reminding Peter of the thin walls that made up the house, making private conversation in the normally quiet hours almost impossible. Brian, for his part, could only laugh, for he couldn't argue for Lois' comedic timing.

"That's between you two" Brian replied as he moved towards the door, taking a courtesy sniff, another tactic he used for detection, "Now if you don't mind I'm going to be a decent house guest and answer the door."

Opening the door, Brian was face-to-face with Ernie the Giant Chicken, who carried with him a smile, a friendly disposition and a box under his left wing.

"Ernie!" Brian declared warmly, embracing the chicken, "How've yah been buddy? Life treating yah okay?"

Ernie laughed and returned the embrace, simultaneously shaking his head in embarrassment for he hated to talk about himself, especially in the presence of others.

"Come on Brian, you know me" Ernie returned, "I'm fine, same as always. You ready?"

Brian nodded and nonchalantly stepped aside, allowing Ernie to pass. Stepping through the door, Ernie, making sure to wipe his feet on the mat, casually looked around the living room, taking note of the slightly faded green carpet and the equally worn red couch; the cream colored walls and the family photos that adorned them; the medium sized TV that served as the centerpiece for the room, tying everything together and bringing some form of cohesive sense to the space. He wondered if perhaps, Peter threw parties here, and if he did, how many friends he had invited and if they were the same kind of people that he himself normally hung out with and went to parties to; he wondered if Peter's life and his own held any kind of resemblance, and if there was ever a possibility of friendship. The only common denominator that Ernie could find was Brian, it wasn't perfect but it would have to do.

"Nice place" Ernie said, trying to stay focused on the pleasantries and sort through the clutter that was currently going through his head, "Good décor, decent colors, nice furniture placement; you could really make some utility out of here."

Lois, who by this point was downstairs and on her way to the kitchen, laughed and shook her head, brushing off the compliment as nonchalantly as possible.

"Stop it Ernie" Lois replied, blushing a bit for no particular reason, "You calling this place clean is the nicest thing that's been said about it in five years."

Ernie smiled and nodded; he wanted to retort, for he never specifically said that the living room was clean, only that the walls and decoration was commendable; still, if there was one thing he knew it was never to turn down a gift when it was received, words included.

"Thank you Mrs. Griffin" Ernie continued, giving a slight bow, an old Southern hospitality that his uncle had taught him when in the presence of women or people due respect, "If all people were like you and Brian the world would be a better place."

Brian, as if on cue, reappeared from the basement, a box under his arm. At the same time, Peter, a bagel with cream cheese in his mouth, in his right hand a cup of coffee, appeared from the kitchen. Peter, at seeing Ernie, furrowed his eyebrows and pointed towards the door with his free hand. He didn't say anything, on account of the bagel in his mouth, but the message was clear enough. Ernie, capitalizing on Peter's obvious silence, chuckled to himself as he switched hands with his box for it even though its contents were light it was awkward to carry, his box considerably bigger than Brian's.

"Careful Peter" Ernie joked, "keep eating like that and someone'll bring you out to slaughter."

Peter, spitting out the bagel, no longer caring what happened to it, but mindful of his coffee; slowly moved forward, getting right in Ernie's face and daringly touching Ernie's chest to drive his point home.

"Get out of my house!" Peter barked, "I said get out you monster!"

Ernie casually raised his wings in surrender and slowly backed towards the door. His eyes fixed squarely on Lois, Peter leaning down slightly, allowing him a clear line of sight.

"Take it easy" Ernie said carefully, "I'm not looking for trouble, I'm just here to-"

Brian slipped in between them, trying to ease the tension, at the same time cutting Ernie off and catching Peter off guard, straightening him out and causing him to huff in disbelief.

"He's with me" Brian exclaimed, his eyes pleading and sad, hating that it had come to confrontation, "He's part of the League."

"Do you understand what he's done to me?" Peter retorted, "He's ruined my life."

"Have you may be considered that you can't learn when to let go?" Brian returned, annoyed that Peter was using the same old tactic.

"He tried to kill me!" Peter said, raising his voice and clenching his fist, "Not to mention he blew up half the goddamn city!"

Ernie laughed and shook his head, for he remembered things differently. As he recalled it was Peter who blew up half the city, their latest battle culminating in a nuclear power plant two years before; Peter locking Ernie inside the reactor right before a meltdown. Of course, Ernie knew that Peter couldn't take all the blame, for he was the one that ran into the plant in the first place; still, the blame was largely unimportant, what mattered was moving forward.

Peter glared and pointed threateningly at Ernie, who developed a small smirk on his face as he remembered the incident.

"You stay out of this KFC" Peter warned, "Or I'll be having you for dinner!"

"You wouldn't like it" Ernie quipped, playing off Peter's banter, "I'm far too gamey. Besides, what would you do with your weekends?"

Peter groaned and cursed to himself as his thoughts turned back to Brian.

"How can you stand him?" Peter asked, "Doesn't he drive you crazy!"

Brian smiled and laughed to himself, for there were days when he couldn't stand Ernie, but those days came and went and were few and far between. It was a relief for Brian to see Peter divert his attention back to him, for it meant that there would be no immediate fist fight and that the situation, for the moment at least, was defusing itself.

"You're all heart Peter" Brian said as he patted his master's stomach in parting, "Don't ever change-"

Peter huffed and shook Brian off, wanting nothing more to do with him for the time being; too annoyed to say anything further. Resigning himself to the couch and grabbing the remote, mindlessly flipping through channels, Peter grumbled and griped to himself. Lois, who was passively observing up to this point, stared at Peter and then at Brian; walking over, she smiled and gently kissed his forehead, touching his cheek in the way a mother would.

"Go do some good" Lois exclaimed with a smile, "Put some smiles on faces for me."

Brian nodded and made his way toward the door, waving goodbye. Lois then made her way to Ernie and for no particular reason, embraced him as hard as she dared. Ernie, for his part, wasn't entirely sure what to do, if there was something to say or if the customary return was called for. Not wanting to risk another confrontation with Peter or to say or do the wrong thing Ernie did nothing; Lois, taking the hint, broke away and with a smile on her face and the action and voice of the mother that she was, calmly reassured him.

"You come back any time you want" Lois said, giving Peter a slight once-over, "I'll deal with him."

"Thank you Mrs. Griffin" Ernie declared with a grateful nod, "That's very kind; now, if you'll excuse me."

With this Ernie made his way onto the front porch, closing the door behind him; no sooner did he leave did Peter explode, spontaneously combusting into a fit of rants, raves and curses, fueled by the singular emotions of hate and confusion. Lois sat and calmly wrapped her arms around him, in a feeble attempt to calm him down; after a few minutes all was quiet, and they returned to their usual routine and watched TV.

Driving in Ernie's Ford F1-50 pickup truck with the windows down and the boxes safely stored in the back, the two friends continued down the street, coming to a red light. Brian, whose mind tended to wander when vehicles were stalled, looked off to the right, his eyes stopping on the street corner, specifically Vinny, a dog like himself, with a cardboard sign and an empty cup next to him as he casually strummed an old acoustic. Brian had often seen Vinny in and around the neighborhood, playing on his guitar, begging for table scraps, and preaching the Gospel; all things that on a personal level Brian had no particular problem with, except when they directly involved him, in which case they were minor inconveniences at best, and public nuisances at worst. From the truck, Brian could hear Vinny playing, it was the Doobie Brothers' "Listen to the Music". Why it was this particular song, Brian hadn't the slightest idea, maybe it was because Vinny just felt like spreading some good cheer, or maybe he needed some of his own, in any case, it didn't really matter.

As the light turned green and Ernie turned on to a side street, heading for the outskirts of the city, the chicken calmly rolled up the window and immediately became serious. Sighing and turning his attention back to the road, Ernie, uncomfortably, segued.

"We lost Flash"

Brian raised his eyebrows in confusion, for that had seemed impossible; they had come so far and had done so much it was inconceivable that they lost yet another one.

"You are kidding me?" Brian declared, not really sure if he should be distraught or angry first and in what amounts, "Damn it Ernie I thought we made it perfectly clear when we started this thing. Once you're in, there's no backing out. That's McKimson, Olivier, and now Kinney, all in one month. Who's left?"

Ernie looked up, calculating in his head, putting names to faces.

"There's you and me, Freeman-"

Brian scowled and rolled his eyes, for he was not a particular fan of Freeman, finding his sense of spirit unworthy for the role of the Martian Man-Hunter, for Freeman was a brute and a bore of a man, refusing to take consul or follow any direction that was not his own. He saw himself above everything, particularly this type of work, seeing it as nothing more than an excuse to dress up and flaunt powers that only existed in his head, where he could be anything.

"Freeman" Brian said, gritting his teeth at the sound of his name, "He's giving them the wrong impression. We're supposed to be helping these kids and all he does is boast and talk about himself."

Ernie nodded and sighed in turn, sharing Brian's sympathies and concerns.

"Can't argue there" Ernie returned pointedly, "But he's the one who organizes the events, pays for travel expenses, and makes sure that we all don't end up in the nut house. Without him, we'd all be in straitjackets talking to ourselves. God knows I wouldn't do well in a place like that."

Brian laughed and playfully pushed Ernie jokingly, catching his tone. It was a well-known fact that Ernie had spent some considerable time in the local penitentiary, a grand total of ten years spread across the last twenty-two, for events directly related and unrelated to his fights with Peter. It was also a well-known fact that during that ten years, the most recent period being a six month stay for traffic violations, minor destruction of property, and publicly accusing Mayor Adam West of incompetence, Ernie had taken significant steps in bettering his name with various degrees of success.

"Who else do we have?" Brian asked, calming down and returning to the matter at hand, in his head thinking of thirty different solutions to the same problem, "Please tell me we managed to hang on to more."

Ernie shrugged and looked up once again, again counting the number and putting names to faces.

"Mason left a while ago" Ernie continued, "The Professor went ahead and got himself committed at New Haven. Val's still around, as is Stockton, but who knows for how long. Our little organization's gone to shit Brian. We can't help people if no one's around to do the helping."

Brian hung his head in sadness, angry with himself that it had come to this. What had begun as an charitable organization dedicated to bettering the lives of the less fortunate youth- visiting hospitals, participating in fund-raisers, hosting day camps, doing live performances- had turned into a question of "What's in it for me?" for everyone involved. It was not a good situation to be in.

"What the hell are we doing Ernie?" Brian asked, feeling defeated, "What have we done? Have we really been helping people, doing right? Or are we just media fodder?"

Ernie shrugged and shook his head, for he didn't really have an answer to the question. The only thing that he had was hope that somehow, things were going to work out for the best.

"Do you know why I agreed to this?" Ernie began, asking a rhetorical question, "I agreed to this because I saw the good that you did for Meg and those kids at the CCC and I wanted a piece of it. I agreed to this because I saw Rudy's face light up soon as he saw Batdog run down that hallway coming to save the day. And I wanted that; I wanted to be a hero to somebody, to be a part of something that's bigger than me. To find a place where I belonged and not feel like a freak-"

Brian smiled and nodded, for he remembered this story well, Ernie having told it countless times before; getting better with each reiteration. In his head he could see the inside of Uncle Martin's house, an old refurbished pool-hall and their current destination; he could hear Rudy, Ernie's nephew, playing with Stewie in the next room; and he could smell the faint aroma of apple pie, a household favorite.

"And I still want that" Ernie concluded, "And if that means running around and acting like an idiot, that's what it means. Screw 'em Brian, who cares who stays or who leaves; we're still here, and as long as we're still here Quahog's got heroes and those kids can get to believe in themselves again."

His sense of spirit renewed, Brian sighed and wiped his eyes, for he could not help but cry as he listened to Ernie's piece, reminding him of his purpose. Smiling and resigning to his own thoughts for the moment, giving himself time to recover, Brian casually stared out the window as the suburbs changed to rural farmland entering the outskirts of city as the morning sun continued its upward path, bringing on the new day.