Chapter Six


Trigger Warnings For This Chapter: Cursing, Mental Illness Traits, Hallucinations, Gun Violence, Violence, Murder, Death, Blood, and Drinking


Brain sat on the bench by the tracks, tapping his foot impatiently. He looked at a watch he had on and frowned. It was 4:01. He looked left to right and then at his feet. Did he change his mind?

Brain decided to give it another 10-15 minutes before he'd get up and leave. These extra minutes gave Brain plenty of time to let his thoughts wander and race from best-case scenarios to worst-case scenarios.

He forgot.

He slept in.

He lied.

He hates you.

He knows your gay.

He's just running late.

He got jumped….

He's dead…

He's… He's…

"Brain!" The cockney accent echoed off the walls. Brain twirled around in time to see Pinky tumble down some steps and then pop right back up with a grunt. "Hiya, Brain! Narf!" Pinky rushed over to him and caught his breath. "Sorry, I'm late! The clock at work is the one with the needles, and I don't know how to read those ones."

Brain was at a loss for words. "P-pinky, I-." Pinky was dressed in a casual jacket, white shirt, and very slim jeans. His hair was combed nicely, and he smelled… like bubblegum. Everywhere.

Pinky wrung his hands together. "Poit. I'm really sorry, Brain. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. You still want to go with me, right?"

Brain shook his head and found his words. "Of course! And don't worry about it. I was just scared you maybe changed your mind." Or got hurt.

Pinky smiled. "Oh heavens! I'd never change my mind about today!" Pinky sat down next to Brain. "So, Brain, how was your day today?"

Brain felt heat creep up into his face. Within a matter of seconds, Pinky had made Brain feel happy. "It was okay. A little dull, but otherwise good. How was your day, Pinky?"

"It was… alright. Zort!" He got in trouble at work, and that one mean voice had bothered him quite a bit, but he didn't want his and Brain's conversation to go negative so fast.

Brain noticed the pause in Pinky's response and pried. He didn't want Pinky to think he had to lie to keep his interest. "Are you certain? You know, you can be honest about your day. I want to genuinely know."

Pinky's mouth hung open. He wants to genuinely know? Pinky shuffled his feet. "Well,… okay. My boss yelled at me for scaring a little boy today. I didn't mean to. The boy was scared of clowns, so there wasn't much I could do about it. Then there's a voi- person who's constantly saying mean things to me. The things they say are getting harder and harder to ignore. Poit."

A train pulled in, and the two men boarded. "I can't believe someone would have bad things to say to you. Sorry to hear, Pinky." And he was. Pinky still had a smile and light in him, but he didn't like that people were testing it.

They sat down in the back where there was room, but they had to be rather close to each other with how packed the cart was. Their shoulders were firmly pressed together, and their hands were nearly touching. Pinky looked away from their hands and took in a controlled breathe before continuing the conversation. "Oh, it's okay. Unfortunately, there are quite a few things bad about me. Poit."

Brain blinked in confusion. Like what?! "Explain, Pinky."

Pinky wondered a moment if he should advertise any of his flaws to Brain so soon. It was only their first date. Well, I guess it's not a date. Just a meet-up. The memory of Brain admitting he had anxiety popped up. Pinky nodded decidedly. He'd let him in on a few things. Brain won't judge.

"Well… I'm not very smart. I don't read well. Or write well."

Brain slipped a hand into his pocket and brushed a thumb over Pinky's letter. He thought he wrote just fine. The writing was understandable, which he supposed was the most important part.

"Also, I forget things a lot, and -Narf! … well, there's that." He kept the homelessness, non-people, and the voices to himself. Maybe another day. If this one goes well.

Brain was still confused. Those things didn't seem like major flaws. Maybe tiny flukes, but they hardly compared to all the good things about Pinky. Brain placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "Screw what other people say. Those 'flaws' are extremely minimal. You can always learn to read and write more appropriately, so it's hardly a major issue." As for his odd word outbursts, Brain had an idea about what was going on there. He didn't want to assume, though. He swallowed his nervousness around the question he wanted to ask. "As for your word outbursts, am I right to think it's Tourette's? If that's the case, you can't control it, and people should fuck off about it if they have a problem with it."

Egad, Brain's so passionate and understanding. But… "What's toadettes? Troz!"

"Tourette's." Brain gently corrected him. "Do you not know what that is? I'm surprised a doctor hasn't ever suggested that to you."

Pinky hadn't been to a doctor since… he was twelve? He couldn't remember. "I haven't been to the doc in a long while. It's too expensive, anyway."

The train pulled up to their stop, and the two men headed towards fifth street. Though this area wasn't the safest at the moment, the two felt safe with each other.

They talked all the way to the bar about what Tourette's was. Pinky was quite surprised to find out about it. The symptoms Brain explained matched up perfectly to what was going on with his outbursts. "Wow, Brain! You're brilliant! Were you a doc once?"

Brain opened the door for Pinky, and they sat at the bar. "No. I did study to become one, but I stopped midway through. My mother and father insisted I be a doctor, but I decided not to be. I did learn invaluable knowledge, though."

"Naaarf!" Pinky was blown away. Brain wasn't just cute and nice. He was properly educated and humble.

The bartender approached the men with a musky odor and a scruffy voice. "What'll it be, fellas?"

Pinky went to dig out the scrap money from his pocket, but Brain beat him to the punch. "We'll start off with some house beer, if that's okay with you, Pinky."

"Oh! Uh, sure!" Pinky beamed in his swirly stool chair, and the bartender went to go grab their drinks. "You don't have to pay for my drinks, though. I brought some money." Enough for one drink, which he was initially going to use for Brain. It was all the money he had left after Mr. Ben's sign came out of his paycheck.

Brain smirked cockily. "Worry not, Pinky. All drinks are on me tonight. I've brought enough. I would appreciate having the honor of buying your drinks."

Pinky blushed. Brain wanted to buy him drinks… at least that's what he thinks Brain meant. "Well, okay then! Narf! Thank you so much, Brain!"

Brain's smirk turned into a confident smile.

The beers were brought to them, and they began going through their first round. Brain was careful and drank with class. His eyes went wide when he saw Pinky chug through his first beer in a matter of seconds.

Pinky licked his lips as he finished his beer. He wasn't a drinker, and he didn't care for drinking… but he could drink. He looked over at Brain and noticed that the shorter man wasn't even halfway through his own beer. Pinky awkwardly placed his empty bottle on the counter and tugged at his collar. Perhaps he shouldn't act like an uncivilized drunk so quickly. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to drink it so fast."

Brain looked back and forth between his unfinished beer and Pinky. Aw, fuck it. I'm here to have a good time. What could happen? Brain threw his head back and polished off his beer, setting his bottle next to Pinky's.

Pinky stared at Brain in his pretty pink eyes as he processed what had just happened. A moment later, Pinky arched a brow gave a coy smile. He slammed his fist on the counter. "Excuse me! We need another round! … Please!" Let's see what Brain's got.

Brain mentally accepted the unspoken challenge. If he needed to go outside his budget, he could just cut back on food or something next week. Let's see what Pinky's got.

The bartender brought out their second round. Brain grabbed his quickly. "I warn you, Pinky, I'm an office worker with a temper in a sketchy town. I can hold my drinks fairly well."

Pinky burst out laughing. "Ooooh, Brain. We'll see about that!" Pinky had been introduced to alcohol at a very young age. He's had time to build up a decent tolerance.

Drink for drink, they went against each other until Brain felt uncomfortable with the amount of money that was adding up. They ordered one last round.

Brain leaned on his hand and sighed adoringly at Pinky. "Pinky, I just want you to know that you're the most wonderful person I've ever met."

Pinky mimicked Brain's actions. "Same to you, Brain."

They stayed like that, just staring at each other until a meaty arm slammed the counter space between them. "Alright, you two! Scram! It's almost closing time, and you two bozos have been here all night!"

Brain grumpily paid his tab and held the door open for Pinky. Pinky stumbled out with a giggle. "Oh, what fun! Narf! You sure can drink, Brain!" Pinky wobbled in place, then fell, leaning against the building to catch himself. "Ow."

Brain heard Pinky's quiet 'ow.' "What's wrong, Pinky?"

"Hm? Oh, just ma ribs. They're still very sore."

Brain went and steadied Pinky before he fell again. It was hard to do when you weren't so steady yourself. "Your ribs? Oh dear, I forgot about that. How badly do they hurt?"

"Only when I do a lot, like run or jump, or dance."

Brain pouted. "I thought I told you to take it easy? Why are you doing those things?"

Pinky suddenly felt overwhelming shame as a voice in his head spoke out. You disappointed him already. He hates that you're crazy! Homeless rat!

Brain looked up when he felt something wet on his head. Pinky was crying. And it was the saddest thing he'd ever seen. "Pinky? I'm sorry if I sounded angry! What's the matter?"

With alcohol and illness coursing through his veins, words Pinky would normally keep reserved spilled out like a stream. "I disappointed you. You-you think I'm crazy! I'm not crazy!" Pinky knelt down into his knees and cried. "You think I'm a homeless gutter rat, don't you?!

Brain stepped back, digesting what was said. What?! "Pinky, I don't think any of that! Why would I think such horrible things about such a wonderful p-p-p-person." He awkwardly stuttered a bit on his last word and then hiccupped.

Pinky ceased his tears, wiping them away with a sniffle. "You mean it, Brain? Is the voice in my head wrong?"

Brain helped Pinky up. "Yes, it's wrong." Brain didn't think twice about Pinky referring to a voice in his head, assuming it was just a self-confidence issue. Brain looked at the state Pinky was in. He didn't feel comfortable letting Pinky go home alone after the train. Plus, it had gotten dark, and they lived in Hamington. "Pinky, why don't I take you home to my place?" Brain pushed down all the inappropriate thoughts that had suddenly popped up in his mind. He's coming over to rest and nothing more! … well… "I'd also like to check on your a-… ribs. Again."

Pinky felt much better at Brain's reassurance but was very warm now. Back to Brain's place? And he wants to look at my ribs again. Pinky shuddered lightly at the thought of Brain's fingers on him. "Okay. Let's go. To your place."

They cautiously walked to the train station, using each other to keep balance.

The train arrived, and they got on, sitting in the middle. They sprawled out, taking as much space as they desired. Only three other people were in the cart. Brain sat across from Pinky. He would have sat next to him, but then he wouldn't be able to look at him so perfectly.

Pinky didn't seem to mind, assuming Brain wanted as much room as possible to stretch out. He looked over at Brain and felt his lids grow heavy. Brain was looking at him with a goofy smile, and it was beautiful.

They locked eyes, not minding the other's stare as they gently rocked with the movement of the train.

Brain hiccupped again, causing Pinky to giggle, which caused Brain to redden. Pinky took note of how red Brain got and hummed to himself. I can't wait to help him out of the closet. Maybe after a few more meet-ups?

Pinky let his eyes wander over Brain, and they stopped when they landed on his crotch. Brain wasn't pitching a tent or anything, but you could just tell that whatever was down there was big.

Pinky began internally panicking. He couldn't look away! Thankfully it didn't look like Brain noticed where his eyes were looking. Uh, broccoli… mints… mean man!... Why are those boys looking at me like that? Oh well. Stale cornbread!

Soon Pinky was able to look away. What Pinky didn't know was that Brain didn't notice because his mind was elsewhere. A very inappropriate elsewhere.

I want to lick those abs… I wanna do so much with him. My LORD, he's so attractive. Oh, look, he's on the ground... wait.

"Hey! Please get away!"

Brain shook his head and returned to reality. And reality had become mortifying. The three other people in the cart had dragged Pinky out of his seat and were pushing him around like a game of hot potato.

Brain stood up, his wobbly legs a thing of the past. He suddenly felt completely sober. "Hey! Stop at once!" He took notice of the snake tattoos on their arms.

The three boys paused their "game" and looked at each other. One of the boys still had Pinky by the shoulders. "Brain! Help!" Pinky felt pathetic, begging for help, but he needed it. He was wobbly from drinking, and a few voices from inside his head were causing a commotion, and these boys were moving him around so much. It was unbearably confusing.

Brain didn't back down. Filthy Hamington rats! "Let him go!"

The boy who had Pinky by the shoulders smirked. "I don't know. We were having fun with pretty-boy here." He knelt down and forced Pinky to stare into his eyes. "We were gonna have a little more fun." His voice was low and predatory. With a quick swift movement, he had a knife pressed up against Pinky's neck. The tip of the needle was a slip away from puncturing through. Thinking he had the upper hand, the boy looked back at Brain… just in time to be met with eternal darkness.

Pinky heard a ringing in his ears, disorienting him further. Time slowed down as well. He felt wet. He opened his eyes, which had shut at the sound of a bang, and saw red dripping from him. Did-did the boy cut my throat!? He reached for his neck and was relieved to feel no marks or gashes. Where is all the blood…

Pinky turned around and gasped. The boy who had been holding him was laying flat on his back with a shattered mess for a face.

Another bang burst through the air. Pinky turned to see the second boy sliding down the wall, leaving a trail of blood. He was dead.

The train door to Pinky's left opened, and he turned just in time to see Brain running out. Was Brain hurt?!

The third boy had sprinted out of the train when it stopped. No one was at the station, and he was without much cover as he bolted for the stairs.

Brain rushed out of the cart. He was too short and chubby to chase the third boy down, so he held his gun, aimed, and fired.

The boy crashed to the ground as a bullet hit him square in the middle of his back.

Brain rushed over. The boy was still alive, dragging his body to the stairs. Brain caught up to him and shot him three more times in the back, point-blank.

When the last of the shots had finished echoing off the cement walls of the station, the only thing Brain could hear was his own breathing. What have I done!?

"B-B-Brain?!"

Brain turned around to see Pinky shaking and crying as he looked around at all the blood. "Pinky! I-I…" he didn't know what he could say. In a matter of moments, Brain had ruined his whole life. Pinky surely hated him, Pinky was surely going to turn him in, and his sentence would be long.

Pinky looked over at Brain, who was trembling. Crazy! He's crazy! Those boys were crazy! Everything is crazy! Pinky ignored the voice. He had a choice to make.

Brain looked down at his feet and watched as teardrops fell upon his shoes. But then suddenly, a hand grabbed his wrist, and he was being dragged up the stairs. His short legs struggled to keep up, but they were able to keep a good pace when he saw who had grabbed him. It was Pinky.

Pinky ran and ran, all the way to Brain's apartment. Pinky shuffled through Brain's pockets, found the key, and unlocked the door. Once inside, Pinky closed the door and began catching his breath and clutching his side.

Brain looked around, almost unable to believe what had just happened. Did… did Pinky just…?

"Troz! Okay, we need to get cleaned up!" Pinky looked down at the floor. "We didn't track anything, I don't think. How good's your washer?"

Brain blinked in surprise. "Pinky? What are you doing? I… I just killed three people! I'm a murderer! I'm-!

Pinky was quick to wrap his arms around the shorter man. "-my hero!"

Brain felt fresh tears trickle down. "But, Pinky! I'm a maniac! Do you understand what I just did?!"

Pinky released the hug so he could make eye contact with Brain. "You saved me. Poit. I was gonna be dead, Brain! But, instead, I'm alive. Thank you!" Pinky's body was filled with adrenaline. He almost died, Brain shot three people,… he helped Brain escape!

Images of the knife against Pinky's neck flashed through Brain's mind. He did save Pinky. Hell! He took out some of the town's trash, in his opinion! "I did, didn't I? I saved you."

Pinky offered Brain a smile. "You did! And as long as no one was there, you'll be fine!"

Brain wasn't exactly convinced. "But, what if they do find out?" Brain really hoped tomorrow's world domination plan worked so he wouldn't need to worry about that.

Pinky shrugged. "Let's hope they don't, eh?"

Brain stood up and went to get glasses of water for himself and Pinky. As the glasses filled, Brain tried analyzing the events that had just taken place. And Pinky. He's kind, his smile and laughter are heavenly, his hair is gorgeous, his scent is bubblegum, he helped me escape a murder scene, and his physique….

"Pinky. I need to check your ribs."