Hello everyone! Sorry for the prolonged wait. Exams are coming up.... this Monday. So I'm a little preoccupied. I simply HAD to get this chapter off my chest, though. It had been sitting in the back of my mind for a few weeks now.

Thanks eternally for the continued support! :) I hope to get some writing done over Christmas break. (Which starts this Wednesday!!)

Mr. Gregor

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Brian had a seriously hard time getting out of bed the next morning. His eyes seemed as though they simply did not want to open. No matter how much he yawned and stretched, he simply could not do anything other than lay there contently, surrounded by the soft, down comforter. He flopped over onto his side, glancing a bleary eye over at the digital clock that sat by his bed. It was ten till noon. Well no wonder he had trouble getting out of bed, he had slept far too much. Brian made more stretching noises, deciding that there was really no rush.

Suddenly, Brian felt uneasy, his eyes snapping open. He sat up in bed, his head turned towards the window, as his human ears strained to hear all the sounds there were to hear. It is said that animals have a sixth sense when something bad is about to happen. Did that trait carry over into Brian's human form? Without warning, the air around Brian pulsed for an instant, as the sound of an explosion resonated through the street below. Brian leapt out of bed, skittering to the window. He pressed his face up against the cold glass, straining his eyes to see beyond the horizon of the building and down the street.

A steady cloud of smoke drifted into view from the street below. Brian took that as his cue. He tripped over his own feet, as he nervously bolted to grab his clothes. Without so much as a thought of food, he was out the door and in the elevator, plummeting downwards.

As he reached ground level, Brian was greeted with the sounds of sirens and the honking of fire engines. He could definitely smell the smoke now. It was a peculiar smell, chemical in nature, almost like plastic burning. He rocketed out of the parking garage and down the sidewalk, nearly sprinting three blocks before he slowed to a jog. When he finally reached the GIWDR building, it looked especially ominous as a cloud of smoke rose out of the staff parking garage to cover half the edifice.

Brian continued to trot, his eyes scanning the crowd that had gathered. God damn rubber-neckers. He cursed under his breath. Finally his eyes fell on an ambulance parked off to the side, the crew bustling about. Stewie was sitting, clearly disgruntled, on the back of the ambulance bumper. He waved a worried nurse away as she attempted to bandage a large gash he had on his head. Looking through the crowd, somehow he locked eyes with Brian, an unreadable expression washing over his face. He stood up suddenly, causing the nurse to quickly sit him back down. Brian pushed his way through the crowd, having to stop and convince the police officers that he was family, until he was finally able to make it over to Stewie.

"Wha-" Brian began, finding his throat to be very dry. He only mouthed wordlessly what would be a question. Stewie gave him a preoccupied look, a hint of annoyance as well as something else.

"Car bomb." He said simply. Brian's jaw dropped. "It's happened before." Stewie continued. "I mean, come on, I design weapons for the U.S. Government, who isn't out to get me?" he asked with a smirk. Brian clearly didn't see the humor in the situation. His eyes kept skirting over the massive gash across Stewie's forehead, trailing down from his raw, bloodied collar bone to his tattered shirt and pants.

"Why won't you let the nurse help you?" Brian asked, trying to mask the fear in his voice with anger. Stewie stared at him blankly, a look of extreme wisdom flashing across his young face.
"I want to feel what it's like to be alive just a moment longer." He answered in a low voice, his eyes glazing over. Brian opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly. Somewhere deep inside him, he understood. He simply sat down beside Stewie on the rear bumper as the nurse came over for s third time. Stewie finally complied to let his wounds be cleaned and bandaged. As the nurse began to roughly scrub as the cuts, Stewie's scraped hand delicately curled around Brian's.

Stewie was taken to the hospital after the nurse determined that he had several broken ribs, Brian tagging helplessly along. No matter how many times he asked, he was unable to receive a straight answer as to what exactly happened. He did, however, find out that the driver of the car had been killed in the explosion and that it had been triggered by hand somewhere in the vicinity of a mile. Police were prowling the area.

Brian remained faithfully by Stewie's side well into the night, pacing the floor, wandering around, and subject to horrible hospital food. When Stewie finally convinced the hospital that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself from here on out, the were free to leave. They reluctantly allowed Brian to escort him home. The hospital was kind enough to call for a taxi.

"Did you know that homosexuality is still punishable by death in some countries now a days?" Stewie posed casually as they walked out of the hospital. Brian was taken aback by the question, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
"Oh, uh… I figured times would have changed by now." He replied meekly, putting his hands awkwardly in his pockets. Stewie shook his head as they walked over to sit on a bench just outside of the doors.

"You know, I was scheduled to go to Fiji once. In retrospect I don't even remember why, it seems so insignificant now… but moral of the story is that they had to cancel. Do you know why?" Stewie asked, obviously not expecting and answer from Brian, who simply shook his head. Stewie's lip curled. "Because, in their country, any homosexual act is punishable by fourteen years in prison." He ended curtly, with a slight chuckle. "What did they think I was going to do? Run into their country and have sex with the first man I saw?" he ended, laughing.

"What brought this up?" Brian finally asked. Stewie's laughter turned cold.

"Because coming out was possibly the worst business move I ever made." He said, his voice dripping with contempt. Brian swallowed.

"The car bomb didn't have anything to do with that…did it?" he asked timidly.

"Who the hell knows anymore?" Stewie replied, falling silent. Brian took it as an end to the conversation. He still felt horribly uncomfortable, fingering the hem of his coat nervously.

The tax ride home was silent for the most part. At one point Brian looked over to see Stewie visibly shaking. Out of instinct, he reached over and put and arm around him, causing Stewie's eyes to widen before moving in closer, desperate for warmth. Brian felt guilty to be in such close contact, but he couldn't really help it. Stewie's face pressed against Brian's collarbone, his breath becoming much slower and more relaxed. Brian sighed, leaning back against Stewie, the guilt growing exponentially as he rested his chin on top of Stewie's head.

Back at the apartment, Brian left Stewie safe in front of the TV as he went to take a shower. The hot water rained down on him, causing his tense shoulders to finally start to relax. The stress of the day had really piled up on top of him. His thoughts kept racing back to the driver that was killed. A mad was killed today, Stewie being the intentional target. How dangerous was it to be associated with Stewie? These people will tear down everyone around him just to get a clear shot. Brian sighed again, leaning up against the walls of the shower, simply feeling the water run over him. It feels wonderful to be alive.

After he had dried off and gotten dressed into more comfortable clothes, he returned to where he had left Stewie. He looked so small sitting there on the large, leather couch. The fact that he was wrapped in a large blanket wearing a t-shirt that was far too big for him didn't help the illusion.

"Fell better?" Stewie asked as Brian plopped down beside him.

"Much. How about you?" he asked in return, his eyes focused on the TV. Stewie shrugged.

"I'm sore as all hell, but so thankful they didn't make me stay overnight in that bloody hospital. The place gives me the creeps." He replied, turning to look at Brian. Brian continued to stare at the screen a moment longer before he slowly turned his head to meet Stewie's gaze. His eyes were big and dark, almost like they had seen too much too fast. Brian felt like he needed to say something.

"Yeah." He said finally. Stewie gave him a puzzled look.

"Yeah what?" he asked, furrowing his brow. Brian shook his head, reaching out to pull Stewie against him once more.

Stewie made a small, uncertain noise, before leaning willingly into Brian. The two of them fell back onto the couch, Stewie resting contently on Brian's chest, the other man's arms around him. The dull pain in his ribs seemed to fade with the dancing butterflies in his stomach. His head rested under Brian's chin. He felt the vibration out of his chest as Brian spoke.

"This is weird." He said quietly. Stewie smiled, huffing a little.

"Just leave it be." He replied, bringing a hand up to rest beside his head on Brian's clavicle, running a thumb across it thoughtfully. He rose and fell with Brian's chest as he sighed, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

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