Maybe it didn't, but it all seemed to begin when the appearance of life in Dewey's inanimate toy was tragically ended. Dewey cried and cried, louder and louder, tears falling onto the suddenly two-part elephant. Before too long his brothers were intrigued and left the bedroom where they had been conspiring. Dewey's crying decrescendo-ed from bawling, to sniffling into near-silence as he looked up to notice Reese and Malcolm.

"I-It ... It's broken."

"What happened, Dewey?"

"I ... A ... It ..." Apparently it was too painful.

"Quit whining butt-munch!"

"Hey, Reese! We should be nice to Dewey."

"Why?"

"Well ... Mom's likely to ground us if she catches Dewey crying; it'll be ten times worse if he runs screaming."

"Should I make him be quiet?" Reese pounded his right fist into his left palm.

"Do you really not realize that beating Dewey up would be a bad idea?"

"I like it."

"We should make Dewey feel better."

"I like ... hide-and-seek." Dewey still sniffled slightly.

"Yeah, alright. I'll count," Reese volunteered, and he stood in front of the television facing it and covered his eyes. "One - two - three -" Once Dewey was heard running off, Reese hit the power button, stepped back, continuing to call out numbers, and began to watch muted episodes of Cheeseface the Martian.

"No, you doof!" Malcolm exclaimed, and if a throwing object had been more readily available it might have flown in Reese's general direction. "Didn't you hear me say we should be nice to Dewey?"

Reese gave Malcolm a wounded look, then scowled. He turned off the television and covered his eyes again.

"Fine- Yo- Whatever! Go; I'll count."

Malcolm had thought Dewey was likely to have more fun if he was playing with someone who actually cared about the game. However, Malcolm realized that for this round he wouldn't make any better a seeker than Reese, who didn't care, because Malcolm had seen Dewey run off and had a good idea of where he was.

"Ya-ay! You found me! You're getting better."

Then Dewey counted. After passing where he already knew Reese was hiding, Reese giggled, which would have alerted Dewey to his position at any rate. Dewey looked and looked until he finally found Malcolm.

"Hey Malcolm!" Dewey squeaked, sounding quite chipper. He repeatedly poked Malcolm's head with both index fingers. "Hey, hey, hey, Malcolm, Malcolm, Malcolm, Malcolm, hey, hey, Malcolm, hey!"

"He-ey, Dewey. D'you find Reese yet?"

Dewey dropped his arms and his voice. "Yeah."

Back in the living room Reese was back to watching television. Dewey told him it was his turn to count and was ignored. Dewey pulled on Reese's arm and whined.

"Get off! I'm watching Cheeseface."

"You're the cheese-face. Hide! And! Seek!"

"No!" Reese punched him and went back to watching his show without blinking.

Dewey held himself and ran crying.

"Nice going, Reese."

Malcolm found Dewey sniffling on the floor under their shared bed. After failing to coax Dewey out, Malcolm crawled in with him. And he knew better than what he was about to do. He knew he was offering himself up to a great unknown that made up one of the scariest things after their own mother. He asked, "What do I have to do?"

Then they played a cute little game of unspeakable horror to Malcolm and unparalleled enjoyment for Dewey.

At least he didn't want sugar.

Afterward, Malcolm sat on the couch, Reese somewhere off to the right; Malcolm was leaned back, and Dewey sat on his lap with Malcolm's arms around him. The three brothers watched Cheeseface the Martian until How to Milk a Maritime Creature came on with an episode featuring octopi. This is the scene Lois was greeted with when she walked in holding a large brown bag against her torso.

The bag slid to the floor as Lois began her analysis. The place wasn't too clean or too messy, and nothing appeared to be broken or missing. The house was still standing, and the kids were intact, but Lois was still suspicious.

"What's going on? Why are you boys just sitting there?"

"Because we're good!" Dewey informed his mother, leaping to his feet and heading towards her. "I had eight slices of bologna, then my toy broke, but Reese and Malcolm played hide-and-seek with me, and then Malcolm -"

"That's nice, Dewey. Ah -" Lois paused slightly. "I could use some help bringing in the groceries. You three -" Then she jerked a thumb towards the driveway and they went out.

"There's no cake!" Dewey cried out after glancing over the bags in the van. "How could she not get cake?"

"Because we're poor, Dewey. We're not allowed to have anything that tastes good."

"Are too, Reese! We can have cake!"

"Nuh uh, Dewey. We can't have cake, ever again."

"You're lying! I want cake!"

"Cut it out, Reese," Malcolm said, cutting in.

"Yeah, Reese! ... Malcolm will carry my share of groceries, because he's a good brother, won't he; he'll carry them in so I won't have to, right, Malcolm?"

"No!" Malcolm had suddenly had enough. "I'm not your slave, Dewey. Carry in your own groceries."

Dewey ran once again crying dramatically.

"Hey, if he's not carrying in anything, I don't have to!" Reese stared at Malcolm for a moment as if waiting for rebuttal, then he went inside as well.

Malcolm groaned and covered his eyes. Why him?

After taking in the rest of the groceries on his own, he found Dewey once again under their bed. "Come out, Dewey!" he called, was met with silence, and called again.

"No!"

"I stole a snack for you," Malcolm said, and he showed him.

Dewey squeaked.

Dewey was reaching when Malcolm said, "But you have to come out to get it." He tentatively crawled out from under the bed to sit on it instead. He stared at Malcolm as he received the treat, and Malcolm sat down to his left. Dewey put both hands on the top of the wrapper, then glanced at Malcolm again. Finally, he had a mouthful of Fudd Jhee Biss Qitt.

He hummed to himself quietly as he chewed. "Hm. Hm. Hm. I'm glad I deschided to break my Herby doll, nom. It wadge worth it."

"You broke your toy on purpose?"

Dewey froze and widened his eyes, realizing he had said out loud something he hadn't wanted to say out loud.

"To spend time with us?" Malcolm asked.

"On'y you," Dewey said, "Reesh idge evil."

Malcolm laughed. "Hehe-yeah, he is, isn't he?"

Dewey nodded and nodded, rocking forward and backward on the edge of the bed.

"Okay," Malcolm whispered, looking at him. Then he put his arms around him and realized it had been a long time since they actually hugged.

Then they sat in silence until Dewey gulped loudly. He was shaking more than usual. He suddenly wrapped his arms around his older brother's middle, burying his head in his side.

"I love you, Malcolm!"

"Uh." Malcolm hesitated, then ruffled his little brother's light hair. "Yeah. Me too, Dewey."

Author's Notes: usedusernames asked for some Malcolm/Dewey bro love the other day, and since then I've been meditating on writing it for her. I watched Red Dress, Cheerleader and Smunday to help myself out, and in both of the last two there is that little blue elephant. Since I find Dewey's relationship and interaction with, well, anything - kind of fascinating - the little monster made his way in there. Also, for the past two nights I've been having long, epic and insane dreams featuring the Wilkerson brothers, and in the last one I was Reese slipping away from Dewey in some kind of twister, and I woke with an insane need to hug Dewey.