AN: So I posted about this idea before, and Pluto said it would make for a good fanfic. So here we are! Takes place after the Brainwashed trilogy, in which Snowball is reverted to a normal hamster.
Life returned to normal after they stopped that infernal dance from rendering Earth's population criminally stupid.
He still aspired to take over the world, Pinky never pondered what he pondered, and Madonna seemed to have taken a leaf out of Precious the Cat's evil book and given the world a new aggravating dance craze that was guaranteed to stall humanity's progress by eight centuries.
The only element missing was the occasional detour into stopping Snowball's schemes when their ambitions and methods clashed.
He wouldn't have to lose an entire night that could've been devoted to hypnotizing Dwayne Johnson so that he would promote the Brain as emperor of the world. He would have more time to create an irresistible ice cream flavor, followed by assuming control of a popular ice cream franchise to produce it, and nobody would catch on to the sweet additive that would plant the idea of hailing Brain as their ruler.
Logic dictated that he would be more efficient and focused.
And if his thoughts wandered onto that unwelcome emotional tangent, he should be pleased by Snowball's loss of sentience.
Snowball was nothing but trouble. Always taunting him, trying to break his partnership with Pinky, and interfering with his plans. He knew how to damage Brain's pride and dignity and take advantage of his flaws. He attempted to chip away at Pinky's unwavering loyalty, scoffing at Brain for associating (not the true definition of their partnership, but it was better than relying or depending) with a lesser creature.
Brain growled, snapping his pencil in two and flinging the broken pieces against the wall. They landed on the tiled floor with a dull clatter. The noise wasn't satisfying in the slightest.
Wonderful. Now he needed a new pencil.
Kicking aside the scraps of a non-viable plan, he stalked over to the pencil holder and selected the only writing utensil that didn't have a scientist's toothmarks all over it. Then he marched back to his notepad, intent on distracting himself with a complex stoichiometry formula.
"It's like this, Snowball! One! Rainbow! Cumin! Troz!" Pinky exclaimed, batting a crumpled ball of tin foil into the air, each hit punctuated by a poor attempt at counting the integers above one.
Snowball was more interested in mindlessly gnawing on the tin foil than playing Hacky Sack though. Not that it stopped Pinky, who switched to tossing and catching the tin foil with his mouth only.
Brain tried to ignore them, but concern for the other rodents' lungs and stomachs overpowered his desire to write out mathematical operations.
"Pinky, find another ridiculous activity that doesn't involve slobbering over random objects!" Brain snapped. "And give Snowball something edible to chew on!"
He kept his gaze trained on Pinky, who saluted with his mouth stretched to an uncomfortable degree by the tin foil ball. Snowball had prized himself on intelligence, and to see him behave so primitively was beyond mortifying.
Pinky made a muffled noise that could've been anything from "Aye-aye, Captain Brain!" to "Let's sprinkle ourselves with fairy dust and breadcrumbs and fly to Neverland!"
With a heavy sigh, Brain delivered a hard slap to Pinky's back. The tinfoil popped out of Pinky's mouth, trailing saliva as it skittered across the counter.
"Thanks, Brain," Pinky chirped. "Ooh, my back is super tingly. Just like the time I made a slip-n'-slide with aloe vera!"
"Yes, how could I forget?" Brain muttered. The excess aloe vera had ruined his hypersonic satellite transmitter after all. "Hand sanitizer was never meant to be used in such a manner."
"Oh, but the aloe vera was so polite. The soap squirty-thing by the sink though, now she could use some lessons in saying please and thank you," Pinky said, grabbing a food pellet from the bowl. He produced a small silver tray and made a show of preparing the food pellet for consumption, sprinkling some sort of invisible spice on the dish.
Brain rolled his eyes as Pinky draped a tissue over one arm and carried the tray above his head with just one hand, humming a nonsensical tune as he set the tray in front of Snowball, who sniffed the food pellet once and drew back. "Yerrrr dinna, monseeyour," Pinky drawled with a horrible French accent. "Bon appetity!"
"It's pronounced appetit," Brain corrected. "I can hardly blame Snowball for being appalled."
Pinky hurried back to the bowl, plucking a large food pellet from the top of the pile. "He probably just doesn't like paprika. Maybe he's more of a pepper type. Hey Brain, have you seen my pepper sneezy turncrankanizer anywhere?"
The pepper mill was hidden in the back of a kitchen cupboard, but Brain had no desire to experience a bout of unstoppable sneezing fits.
"I don't know, Pinky," Brain shrugged. "You never store your belongings in the same place."
"Okay, just a dash then," Pinky said, though 'just a dash' in Pinky's vocabulary meant completely coating the food pellet with invisible pepper. He waved the new pellet in front of Snowball's nose. "Try it now, Snowball!"
But Snowball chittered at Pinky and pushed the pellet aside, his nose quivering with apprehension.
Brain forced himself to look at a colorful, childish poster of the scientific method on the door instead of Pinky's pathetic attempts to find Snowball something to eat.
Hearing Pinky adopt different methods to entice Snowball to try a food pellets, from airplane noises to grunts that accompanied silly faces, it brought memories to the forefront of his mind.
Memories that had never truly disappeared, buried into the farthest, deepest crevices by his ideals of global domination.
Making Snowball laugh after a grueling experiment left him sore and aching. Seeing who could make their wheel spin faster and faster until they collapsed from dizziness. Holding hands and sleeping against the bars of their cages because it was the only way to feel warm in those cold, lonely nights.
Life was simpler before the fallout, before the accursed gene splicer, before the world haunted every waking hour and dream.
By contrast, Pinky was a paradoxical miracle. Pinky was bred for companionship and comfort, but someone brought him into a life of sterility and mazes. He had every right to be angry, every right to lash out and bite the oppressors who lorded over his existence, yet he found the strength to smile instead.
Despite the pain, Pinky laughed. And Brain didn't understand how.
A hard and dry object rolled over his foot, a welcome distraction from his darkening thoughts. Brain picked up the food pellet, scowling at the pigsty their cage had transformed into while he'd been distracted. Pellets were scattered everywhere, there was a puddle by the water bottle, and Pinky was inspecting the underside of the empty food bowl like he'd found an interesting speck of dirt there.
But Snowball was nowhere to be found.
"Snowball! Come out, come out, wherever you are! Your tummy's gonna get Brain-grumbly if you don't eat soon!" Pinky called, shifting the bowl like Snowball would just magically drop out from the bottom. "Poit, this speck of dirt is shaped like a squash! I never noticed before!"
"Pinky, there are many things you don't notice," Brain sighed. "Such as Snowball getting lost and not having the mental capacity to remember his route."
"Just like how I lost my marbles last week," Pinky sniffed, wiping his nose with his tail. Brain wrinkled his nose and passed him a tissue. Pinky accepted it with a grateful nod and blew his nose. "Poor Snowball. He must be hungry! Scared! Alone! Bamboozled!"
"Not to worry, Pinky," Brain said, though it was taking a considerable amount of effort to stop his ears from drooping and betraying his own thoughts. "Your marbles have been missing a lot longer than just last week, I'm afraid. Now cease this blubbering and clean up our living quarters while I search for our wayward hamster."
"Right, Brain," Pinky nodded, a spark of determination shining in his blue eyes. "I'll make those coins spick-span and squeaky clean!"
Pinky tied a cloth around his ears, humming a light, airy tune as he grabbed the broom and set to work. Brain quickly vacated the cage. Pinky would vigorously scrub every spot he deemed filthy, and living things were not excluded from Pinky's cleaning sprees.
He started with a sweep of his usual planning station and nearby counters, discovering that his blueprints and measuring instruments were in slight disarray. His first instinct was to blame Pinky, but since his protractor hadn't been carted up to the top shelf and used as a zipline in an impromptu game of Batmouse and Raven, it was more likely that Snowball knocked it over.
Snowball had clearly retained a desire to mess with him.
He returned everything to their proper positions, concluding that Snowball was in a completely different room. Brain knew he'd have to make up for lost time later, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
As he crossed the next room, he gave Billie's cage a wide berth. He wasn't in the mood to deal with unflattering comments about his proportions, and he still had no idea what caused him to ever be infatuated with her in the first place. Luckily, she was too preoccupied with tying a pink ribbon to her tail to notice him, and he made it to the hallway without any issue.
Brain marched down the corridor and listened for any signs of activity, but there was only the sound of his footsteps and the white noise of the air conditioner. He stopped by the breakroom, grabbing an apple slice from a snack platter to entice Snowball into following him.
"Snowball, I know you require sustenance. If you refuse the food pellets, then I will procure some organic food for you," Brain called into a room full of guinea pigs. Their noses twitched greedily at the scent of the apple slice, but Brain tightened his grip and ignored them.
These creatures weren't genetically enhanced. Their only goals in life were food, reproduction, and mindlessly catering to the scientists' whims. Once Brain determined Snowball's absence, he hastily left and ignored the guilty pang at leaving the guinea pigs so listless and defeated.
It was fine, he told himself. He'd rule the world one day, and unethical practices would no longer be tolerated and paraded around as necessary for progress in scientific fields.
The next area was a medical room, and the constant humming of the equipment made Brain's fur stand on end. It was deceptively white and sterile, a stark contrast to the shadowed blues and blacks that surrounded their cage. This was where humans acted as judge, jury, and executioner. Some came out with minor changes, others had their qualities significantly altered, and the unfortunate ones never came back at all.
Several vials of liquid weren't aligned with the others along the shelf, and Brain knew they'd been recently used. Those vials were the reason Pinky wasn't allowed to venture past the breakroom alone. The simpleton would believe it was apple juice and guzzle it down, and the thought that he could fall asleep and never wake up again would never cross his empty mind.
Brain wasted no time in ruling out this horrible place. A primitive mind would still register the sense of impending doom and avoid danger at all costs.
Then a sharp squeal pierced the air. Brain rushed into the hall, readying his apple slice for a bopping in case he needed to reprimand Pinky for abandoning his post, but no laughter or verbal tics accompanied the sound.
He tensed as the squeal echoed off the walls, accompanied by a shriek that was somewhat higher. Brain followed the sound until he was in front of a heavy metal door at the end of the hall. A radioactive symbol was posted on the door, though the lab didn't carry such potent materials due to their high expenses. The bottom was blocked off with a thick seal that even Pinky's malleable body wouldn't be able to squeeze through.
The radioactive sign was just there to cover up the gene splicer, a byproduct of Project BRAIN's failure. None of the scientists enjoyed the reminder of how their failed experiment costed them a hefty government grant.
Despite their attempts to keep the room secure, someone had botched it and left the door open enough for a curious hamster to slip through. Brain squeezed through the gap with minimal trouble, which he took as a small blessing since his head tended to get caught between spaces that other mice wouldn't normally have an issue with.
The gene splicer was indistinguishable from any other piece of lab equipment. Still, Brain refused to go anywhere near it. Yes, the machine had granted him intelligence, but at the cost of his innocence. And though his fateful meeting with Pinky was an unintentional result of the project, it also cost him a dear childhood friend.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, the adage said.
Snowball was on the ground, scratching at a drawer in a feeble attempt to reach a cage that contained a ginger colored hamster. Snowball squealed, and the caged hamster responded back in kind.
Male hamsters were territorial. Brain saw that statement in a lab textbook shortly after Snowball's descent into evil. And sometimes he wondered if Snowball's idea of territory had grown to encompass the entire world after the splicing.
Well, he hoped they were being territorial. He didn't want to consider Snowball scouting for potential breeding partners.
As Brain approached with the apple slice, Snowball's frantic scratching gave way to curious sniffing. Dropping back onto all fours, Snowball scampered over to Brain. He didn't have a chance to set the apple slice down before Snowball nibbled on it like he'd never eaten something so delicious in his life.
"You're worse than Pinky when he's in close proximity to a cheese platter," Brain said.
Snowball polished off the apple slice in record time, rocking back on his hind legs and looking at Brain with round, pink eyes. Juice dripped off his fur, front incisors poking out in a ridiculous manner.
It was impossible to reconcile the prideful, ambitious dictator with the innocent rodent. If Snowball's desire for power had been dormant in him all along, or if the gene splicer's explosion damaged his mind, Brain would never know for certain.
His hand was resting on Snowball's pudgy white stomach.
Snowball chittered, shuffling closer to Brain with a dopey smile.
Suddenly it felt incredibly disturbing that anyone with a logical mind, even a former one, would want to be treated like a common pet.
Brain recoiled, clutching his hand protectively as he placed a respectable distance between himself and the clingy hamster. Snowball had no dignity to preserve, no reputation to uphold. So Brain had to do it for him.
He once cherished making Snowball laugh by tickling his belly.
But those days were over.
Snowball dropped into a quadrupedal stance and scurried after Brain, chittering in his primitive language. Brain didn't look at him. The noise was sufficient proof of Snowball's presence.
He didn't want to look at Snowball.
"Come…Snowball," Brain ordered. Snowball's name didn't flow off his tongue well. Not like Pinky's. "Let's depart. We'll stop by the breakroom on the way back to the cage. You still require food."
Brain slipped through the gap in the door, and Snowball readily followed. Brain kept his head down as Snowball scurried ahead, behind, and in every direction that wasn't straight. Occasionally Snowball nudged Brain's hands, so he kept them folded against his chest to prevent any unwanted touching.
Physical contact with Snowball would inevitably dredge up nostalgia over the past, and Brain had dwelled on their shared history far too much already.
-o-o-o-o-o-
The breakroom was a welcome diversion.
Brain put several apple slices into a napkin, carefully sliding down the chair leg and setting his bundle in front of Snowball. The hamster squealed in delight and scarfed down one slice so fast that Brain couldn't tell if he actually chewed on it. While Snowball filled his stomach, Brain retrieved a toothpick and stuck it into a cheese cube.
By the time he made it to the ground, Snowball was already finished with his meal. Curious, Snowball sniffed at the cheese cube.
"Back, Snowball," Brain said, holding the items above his head as he attempted to nudge Snowball away with one foot. "This is for someone else."
Despite his best efforts, Snowball still managed to place a paw on Brain's head and nibble at one corner of the cheese cube. Brain growled, shoving Snowball's paw off his face. A small strip of cheese hung from Snowball's mouth as he tumbled to the ground.
Brain glanced at the cube, relieved that the damage was minimal.
"Your greed hasn't been altered in the slightest," Brain sighed.
Snowball gagged and spat out the cheese, now reduced to a mushy pile of dairy and saliva.
If Pinky were present, he would've found it blasphemous.
Brain was tempted to leave the mush behind and let some unsuspecting human step on it, but sanitary practices won out, so the mush was scooped into a napkin and thrown into the wastebasket.
Brain signaled Snowball to follow him into the main testing area. Though Snowball no longer had an interest in the cheese cube, Brain held it away from him.
As they rounded the corner, their ears were assaulted by a high-pitched giggle. Snowball pressed himself to the ground, his stubby tail quivering madly.
Though he didn't remember their short-lived fling, Snowball was still annoyed by Billie.
To Brain's irritation, Pinky was perched on the shelf by Billie's cage. Billie preened at the attention, while Pinky seemed more interested in weaving his fingers together.
"Natch! Whaddya think, Pinky? I made it all nice and pretty-looking for ya!" Billie flicked her tail in front of Pinky's nose, showing off her fluttering pink ribbon.
Pinky glanced up from his fingers, which were now interlocked in some bizarre cat's cradle pattern. "It's a lovely ribbon, Billie. Looks just like the loopy G in – um, Disney's logo?"
"Loopy G! That's funny!" Billie laughed again, oblivious to how Pinky backed away from her cage.
Snowball made a noise of displeasure at her squawky giggles, drawing Pinky and Billie's attention. Pinky perked up, all his previous discomfort vanishing. He rushed down from the shelf, forgetting that his hands were locked together. Predictably, he overbalanced and tumbled to the floor.
"Narf!" Pinky exclaimed, hopping to his feet and wobbling around. The jolt had separated his hands, saving Brain the trouble of doing it himself. "Everything's so tilt-a-whirly!"
Brain transferred the toothpick to one hand, squeezing Pinky's nose with the other. Pinky's eyes darted all over the place, but he settled within seconds.
"Hiya, Brain!" Pinky grinned, his tail swishing back and forth.
"Hello, Pinky," Brain replied. "I assume you've finished cleaning?"
Pinky nodded. "Yup! All the quarters are clean now! George Washington has never looked shinier!"
Before Brain could reply, Snowball shoved his way between them and forced Brain to release Pinky's nose. He chittered in displeasure at being ignored.
"You're not the only mindless creature that requires focus," Brain scolded as he reached over Snowball's back and shoved the toothpick into Pinky's arms. "Be patient."
Pinky gasped, clutching the toothpick like he'd unexpectedly won a beauty competition. "For me? Oh Brain, you shouldn't have!" he exclaimed, humming in pleasure as he took an enormous bite.
"If you're going to react this way whenever I hand you something, maybe I shouldn't. Try not to get splinters in your teeth this time," Brain snapped. Pinky would enjoy a broken rubber band if he were presented with one, so it was irrational to be concerned about the cheese cube.
"Ahem," Billie coughed. Subtlety was not her strong suit. "Eggy, doncha know it's rude ta interrupt? Didn't your mother teach ya manners?"
"Manners are hardly a priority for wild animals," Brain replied. "Now kindly refrain from distracting my associate in the future. We have important work to do."
"Work!" Billie scoffed. "Ya have some nerve takin' Pinky, but bringin' Snowy here too? He made me take breath control lessons, for cryin' out loud! But looks like the joke's on Snowy! Pinky likes my voice the way it is!"
Pinky giggled, undeterred when Snowball aimed a growl in his direction.
"Told ya!" Billie exclaimed.
Whatever sympathy points Billie had earned from her failed relationship with Snowball evaporated into thin air. She'd never known the Snowball from before. She had no room to talk.
"Yes, hold yourself over someone who can't understand the mortifying nickname you've bestowed upon them," Brain retorted. "You must feel proud of yourself."
"That's rich comin' from you," Billie shot back. "Ya do it ta Pinky every day."
"How I conduct myself in front of Pinky is none of your concern," Brain said icily. He pushed Snowball closer to the door, hoping the solace of their usual living space would calm Snowball down from Billie's incessant squawking. Snowball scurried into the other room without hesitation.
"Oh, but I think you'd be a good conductor, Brain," Pinky said, poking his teeth with the empty toothpick. "Even if nobody in the Trans-Siberian Orchestra would be able to see you."
For once, it wasn't a completely terrible idea. The complication could be easily rectified. He'd have to file that plan for another night though.
"Your idea has merit, Pinky," Brain admitted. "But it's irrelevant to the topic at hand."
"See what I mean?" Billie scowled. "Ya dismiss him. Ya call him names. Ya yell at him all the time. I can hear ya from my cage! Didja think these ears were for decoratin' only? Snowy told me about ya when we were datin'. Said ya wouldn't care what happened to anyone else as long as ya got the world! If this is how ya treat your friends, I can see why Snowy left ya!"
"Don't!" Brain snapped, turning his back to Billie. His hands started to tremble, and he shoved them deep into his fur before he could smash the nearest object into the wall. "Don't make assumptions about events you weren't present for!"
"Brain?" Pinky whispered. He spread his arms with a questioning look, but Brain shot him a warning glare. Pinky's ears drooped, yet he stubbornly refused to back off.
Brain no longer remembered what had caused the schism to widen beyond repair. Perhaps it was something he said. Perhaps it was something Snowball said. Or perhaps the world decided to make them a laughingstock, and there was no definite reason at all.
The plausible explanation eluded him. But it was a regret he'd have to endure.
Pinky tapped his foot rapidly, his bright smile replaced by an uncharacteristic frown.
It was a rare sight on the carefree mouse, and Brain never felt prepared for it.
"Brain cares about the world, and I live here, so that means he cares about me," Pinky declared. He held his head and tail high as he spoke with undeniable conviction. "He'll kiss the world's boo-boos away, you'll see! Troz!"
Brain couldn't entirely stop the warmth that flooded his body, even if Pinky's defense was awfully sentimental.
Billie threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine! Tell him ta marry the world if he loves it so much! At least it'll free ya up that way!"
"Maybe I will!" Pinky shouted as Billie stomped to the farthest corner of her cage.
"I believe we're finished here. Come, Pinky," Brain ordered. He gripped Pinky's elbow and half-led, half-dragged him into the other room.
Snowball joined them halfway to the counter, abandoning a ball of tin foil he'd been pushing around.
"That's a great idea, Snowball!" Pinky exclaimed, not caring that Snowball was burrowing between Brain's hand and his elbow. "Let's play football! Let's see, that grape juice stain on the doormat can be the end zone. The gum under the spinny chair is home base. The Garfield and Otis poster is the hoop! Hmmm, there's not much green or sand here though. I don't know how we'd score love without sand."
"I don't know how you'd score anything if the players are incapable of counting," Brain muttered. He glared at Snowball, who looked all too pleased that he succeeded in forcing Brain to release Pinky.
Whether Snowball retained his sentient persona, or if he'd always been like this and Brain's memories were just rose-tinted, he didn't know. Snowball couldn't resist keeping Brain away from Pinky. He basked in Brain's frustration, relished in his anger, cackled at his sorrow.
On that horrible night when Brain had gained the world but damned Pinky's soul to hell, Snowball had invoked Pinky's mannerisms to torment him. It was a terrible mockery of Pinky's simple nature. To have the silliness but not the sincerity. To run on an exercise wheel without truly enjoying it.
Snowball was the first creature he'd ever bonded with. And Snowball had wanted Brain to be tormented with the knowledge of how he couldn't save a kindred spirit who'd never done anything to deserve a terrible fate.
Brain curled his fingers into the fur on Snowball's chest. Snowball's content noises turned to a surprised squeal as he was unceremoniously hauled to a standing position. If Brain thought about it too hard, some part of him enjoyed causing pain in Snowball for once.
Brain tightened his hold on Snowball, pouring every ounce of betrayal and fury he'd ever felt towards his former friend into his grasp.
"You spit in the name of social progress," Brain snarled. "You tried to manipulate Billie. You stole Pinky. You tried to kill us multiple times, even after I offered to save you in the jungle. You have no interest in bettering the world for us or anyone else. And you left. You left and I didn't know where you were, or what you were doing, or if you'd been taken in by someone or picked off by predators or if you were alright! Were you lying in our childhood too? Was I just entertainment for you, even back then?"
Snowball squealed, his paws scrabbling against the air.
"ANSWER ME!" Brain roared.
His heart pounded in his ears, his breathing came out in ragged gasps. An unidentifiable force pressed against his chest, threatening to claw its way out. Just him and Snowball in a black void. Nothing else mattered. Not until he got what he wanted.
And then a warm hand enveloped his. Long fingers gently slipped into Brain's fist and loosened it from Snowball's fur.
Snowball plopped to the ground on all fours, his eyes round with terror.
The lab flickered into view. There was the counter, the shadowy cage bars that crisscrossed along the walls, the lab supplies. There was Snowball edging away in fright.
And there was Pinky, soothingly massaging circles onto the back of Brain's hands.
"You don't really want to hurt him," Pinky said quietly.
Brain couldn't look any higher than Pinky's chest. As usual, Pinky's faith in him was misplaced. Brain wanted to return all the hurt Snowball had inflicted tenfold. It didn't matter how much he tried to avoid retribution.
Revenge was a fool's game.
And somehow, Brain had become that fool.
Pinky had a special way of inspiring guilt without harsh words.
"I don't know, Pinky," Brain replied. He slowly stepped away from Pinky.
Snowball had crawled into the space between the wall and a table, the shadow of a thick bar across his face as he peered out at Brain.
This was Snowball's future if he remained in the lab. He couldn't help with world domination. He would just be another nameless experiment and doomed to fade into obscurity.
"You can't stay here," Brain murmured. "We'll have to relocate you to another residence."
Snowball reminded him of simple times, happy times, infuriating times. Too many bittersweet memories, too many clashing ideals.
Snowball blinked, uncomprehending.
"Yes, we'll just need a few articles of clothing from past plans. A cover story. A man and his spouse are moving across the country and wish to rehome their hamster to someone who can provide proper nutrients and intellectual stimulation," Brain declared. "We'll need flyers, a proper table setup, and an application process."
"Right, Brain," Pinky said, already scribbling a preliminary design for their flyers. "We'll find him a new home in no time!"
-o-o-o-o-o-
Twelve applicants so far and none of them were suitable for taking care of a rock, much less a living being. Belatedly, Brain realized that he should've been more selective about the locations of his flyers.
The application had a chocolate stain in one corner, random blue scribbles that wasted the ink of at least ten different pens, and several rips from coloring too hard. It was a travesty that would've made any actual employer tear their hair out and use ten vacation weeks to save their sanity.
"-my own little bunny rabbit! I will name him Mr. Georgie-Porgie and I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him and pat him and love him and never let him go- "
Snowball's terrified screech was all the reason Brain needed to push the eject button, springing Elmyra Duff out of her chair and into the night sky.
No matter what Brain thought of Snowball, he would never condemn him to a life of dress-up, embraces of certain death, and being christened Mr. Georgie-Porgie Fuzzysprinkles Bunny-Wunny the Third.
"Pinky, coax Snowball out with an apple slice. I need to go shred this abomination of a document."
-o-o-o-o-o-
Brain felt the side of his head for the tenth time since he started interviewing Applicant #32, making absolutely certain his temporal lobe was firmly embedded in his skull. The application was marginally better than the others he'd reviewed so far, if one chose to ignore the 'evil genius' portion under occupations.
"Do you have a goal in mind regarding pet ownership, Mr…ah, your name again?" Brain asked, forcing himself to read off a list of questions he'd prepared. It was better than looking at someone with an entire vital organ for their head.
"I'd prefer to be called the Lobe," the squishy pink mass atop a human body replied, adjusting his tie with an air of importance.
"Narrrf! Just like the Brai-" Pinky caught the warning look from Brain, "the Brady Bunch! The is a funny name!" He burst into a flurry of giggles, his dress billowing around him as he doubled over in laughter.
Brain cleared his throat, redirecting the Lobe's affronted expression to him. "My wife had a…traumatic injury that enabled her to enjoy sitcoms with hackneyed plots."
"Ah, now that's just tragic," the Lobe mused.
"Agreed," Brain said. "Now, if you'll answer the question."
"Very well. I would raise your hamster to destroy my mortal enemy, Freakazoid," the Lobe shook his fist. "He thwarted my schemes, ruined my traps, and called David Hasselhoff stupid! I will make him pay recompense for his actions!"
Snowball scampered across the table, nose twitching as he regarded the Lobe. Brain reached for the eject button, not wanting to give Snowball to anyone who would enable his bad traits, but the Lobe scooped Snowball into his palms before he could press it.
"There's a certain adorable appeal to you," the Lobe said, bringing Snowball up to his face for a closer look. "Freakazoid will never see us coming! We'll be unstoppa-yeeeeowwww!"
Snowball chomped down on his nose…well, in the position where a nose should be.
The Lobe screamed, toppling off the chair as he dislodged Snowball from his face with a wet-sounding splat.
"Never mind!" the Lobe hollered over his shoulder. He rushed to the exit, covering his face with his hands. "I don't want your devil hamster anymore!"
Brain set the eject button aside. There was no need since Snowball handled the rejection for him.
Snowball turned around, revealing a spongy pink blob in his mouth. Snowball chewed slowly.
Brain recoiled, and even Pinky looked nauseated.
It took a solid twenty minutes before Brain could bring himself to call Applicant #33. Seven minutes to convince Snowball to spit out the inedible substance and rinse his mouth, and another thirteen minutes for Brain to wash up and change into a spare suit since Snowball had decided to spit the substance into his face.
-o-o-o-o-o-
"Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?" Brain took a sip of tea from his thimble to wash down the rasp in his voice, worn from repeating the same questions.
"I think so, Brain," Pinky nodded. Unlike Brain, he wasn't worn down at all. "But Space Jam would pair much better with peanut butter than with Bugs Bunny."
Brain rubbed his temples. Nobody was a suitable candidate. Too young, too flighty, too inexperienced, too busy, the list went on. "No, Pinky," he said. "I loathe to say it, but we may have to leave him at the mercy of a pet store. I won't be there to control the circumstances of his purchase, but…"
"Snowball should be happy in his new home, Brain," Pinky said. "How would you know he'd be happy?"
"If it concerns you, Pinky, I could insert a hidden camera into Snowball's enclosure," Brain replied, his mind racing with a thousand precautions to take in case tonight didn't pan out. "I could monitor it from here with the proper signals. I'd have to keep my plans contained within the lab for a period of time, but it's doable."
Pinky still looked unsure.
"We could disguise ourselves as pet store workers and screen potential owners that way."
Pinky played with his tail absentmindedly.
"Film a commercial that features Snowball suffering with melodramatic background music and hope someone's protective instinct will override rational thought?"
When Pinky didn't respond a third time, Brain bopped him on the head to get his attention. "Pinky!" he snapped harshly. "Don't you have any inane contributions to my ideas?"
"Zort! Sorry, Brain!" Pinky laughed, shaking his head to get rid of the excess dizziness. "I was just wondering how Ellie's doing. She's filling the appaloosa in right now."
"Were you chatting with the applicants?" Brain asked. He glanced at Snowball, who was fast asleep on a red pincushion. The past few hours had finally worn him out.
"I went out for a walk while you were talking to that guy with the tweed elbow patches and combover," Pinky said. "He took a while, didn't he?"
"You have no idea," Brain grumbled.
It certainly explained the suspicious lack of narfs and poits during the excruciating stint with Applicant #41. And it hadn't been much of an interview either. Brain had learned more about the man's failing marriage, gambling debts, and inability to fulfill a lifelong dream of being a world famous stand-up comedian than he wanted to. On top of that, Snowball had stolen the eject button, disconnecting the wiring and forcing Brain to engage him in a game of keep away, otherwise Brain would've been rid of that annoyance much sooner.
Pinky scratched his head, a rather futile gesture for him in Brain's opinion. "The stars were really pretty tonight, like little specks of Christmas lights! I was looking at them when Ellie accidentally stepped on my dress."
Brain glanced at the hem of Pinky's dress, making Pinky twirl around to check for costume damage. But there was none to be found. "It doesn't look ruffled."
Pinky giggled as the hem settled around his feet. "It's really more of a pleat than a ruffle, I think. Then Ellie took out a needle and thread and fixed it in a jiffy!"
"You don't think," Brain sighed. "I assume you invited her?"
"I think you'd like her, Brain!" Pinky exclaimed. "Just give her a chance!"
"Pinky, your preconceptions on what I like tend to be wildly inaccurate," Brain said, but reluctantly decided to humor Pinky anyway. "However, you can fetch me her application. If it doesn't meet my standards, we'll turn her away at the door so I can partially reduce the migraine this mess will surely cause me later."
Pinky slipped through the mail slot, returning a few moments later with a rolled-up application in tow. He hummed a dreamy tune as he presented it to Brain.
Once the application was unfurled, Brain summoned the little energy he had left and concentrated on the surprisingly professional penmanship, refusing to acknowledge the knowing gleam in Pinky's eyes.
Though Brain scrutinized the document for faults, there was little to be found. Easy to read, correct grammar, and the education history was extensive. There were two PhD's listed, along with a third PhD in psychology that was currently in the works.
In fact, the only thing unusual was that her surname and occupation were both listed as Nurse.
Overall, it was the best application Brain had reviewed all night. And it happened to be the result of Pinky's dumb luck.
Pinky grinned. "Can I get Ellie now, Brain?"
"Very well. And send everyone else home while you're out there. I don't have the energy to handle more idiocy tonight," Brain said, folding the application neatly and leaving the important information sticking out.
While Pinky carried out his orders, Brain checked on Snowball. The hamster slumbered on, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. His limbs were splayed out and hanging over the pincushion, but it didn't appear to bother him, so Brain left it alone.
"Dreaming about a lush apple orchard somewhere?" Brain asked, keeping his voice low so he could have ample warning about Pinky's return. To Brain's relief, Snowball didn't reply. "Perhaps you'll be taken in by someone who owns one, if this human can't match up to her application."
There was a high possibility of never seeing Snowball again, no matter the outcome. While their origins were similar, there were too many bumps, too many circumstances, too much bitterness for their paths to coexist ever again.
Brain had Pinky. Snowball needed someone who would care for his needs too.
Snowball snorted and rolled over, unconsciously placing his weight against Brain. They'd slept like this before, in more ignorant times. There were no cold iron bars between them now.
The door handle clicked.
Brain shoved Snowball back onto the pincushion, rushing back to his chair and correcting the brown wig that had been knocked askew in his haste. Snowball's eyes fluttered open, but he yawned and drifted off again.
"Enter," Brain called. His heart pounded, and he hoped nobody would be able to hear it.
The door swung open and a blonde woman strode in, each clack of her heels confident and purposeful. Pinky was perched on her shoulder, and he gave Brain a cheery wave while she closed the door behind her.
"Hello, Ms. Nurse," Brain said, gesturing to the seat in front of him.
Ellie sat down, her posture poised but comfortable as she set her purse in her lap. She would be considered attractive by human standards, though she didn't flaunt it. "I'd rather be called Ellie, if you don't mind. Only my colleagues and the children I work with call me Nurse."
Brain nodded. "Ellie then. If you'll give me a moment."
He scanned the question set, debating the pros and cons of running down the list or selecting a random order. Pinky jumped to the table, the hem of his dress catching around his feet and making his landing less than graceful. But he recovered quickly, peering over Brain's shoulder at the paper.
Describe your occupation.
Have you had pets before?
How much do you know about hamster care?
The questions blurred together, and Brain's mouth went dry. He didn't know what to ask first. Each question would either result in the applicant's rejection or lend consideration to Snowball's new home.
He shrugged to get Pinky off his shoulder. He wasn't helping.
"Your wife was telling me about you," Ellie offered after Brain dragged the silence for too long.
Wife?
Cover story. Right.
"And what did she say?" Brain asked, unsure of why he was forgetting his own plan. He would probably have to perform damage control in case Pinky let something slip.
"That you care very much about your hamster and want to give him a good home," Ellie replied, not reacting when Brain scowled at her. He didn't 'care'. He was rehabilitating Snowball. That was all. "And how you want someone to provide proper…instinctual stickers? Sorry, I must've misheard that part."
"A gold star for every instinct! Narf!" Pinky cheered.
Brain wasn't surprised that Pinky had misconstrued his intentions into something sentimental and nonsensical. "Intellectual stimulation. I will not tolerate Snowball wasting away on newspaper strips and food pellets."
"I'd have to purchase supplies, but I'm sure I could create a miniature obstacle course for Snowball, in addition to setting up challenges where he'd need to solve a problem to get food," Ellie said, glancing at Snowball curiously. "Did you name him Snowball because of his belly?"
"Yes," Brain said quickly. He felt Pinky's gaze on his neck, but waved off his concern. "Moving along, what would be your goal if I allowed you to keep Snowball?"
If Ellie noticed his deflection, she didn't comment. "Finish my dissertation. I'm working on a PhD in psychology. More specifically, how animals affect human behavior. I'd show you if I had the documents, but your wife caught me while I was on my way home from the local university. She's very persuasive."
"At night?" Pinky gasped, hands flying up to his mouth.
"Pepper spray and several self-defense courses. I can take care of myself," Ellie reassured him.
Pinky wiped an invisible bead of sweat off his forehead in relief.
"And that's all? Just a means to an end?" Brain growled, hand twitching towards the eject button.
He might've been curious about her PhD's before, but now he knew her motivation. Snowball would be used and thrown away. Her pitch had been excellent at first, but she slipped.
"Animals can help humans develop empathy," Ellie replied. "That's my topic."
Brain's fur bristled faster than Pinky could smooth it down. There had been no empathy when he was robbed of his childhood best friend. No understanding of anything he'd been forced to suffer through on his quest for world domination.
"Brain?" Pinky asked, his voice cutting into the haze. "Can we let Snowball see her? He should have a say too."
"Oh yes, Pinky. Brilliant idea. Because Snowball can think for himself," Brain muttered.
Pinky shuffled over to the pincushion, mindful of the long hem. Before Brain could stop him, he shook Snowball awake. Brain gritted his teeth, remembering too late that Pinky didn't understand sarcasm.
"Wakey, wakey," Pinky hummed in Snowball's ear. "Someone wants to meet you."
Snowball's nose twitched, his legs kicked out, and he yawned luxuriously before finally crawling off the pincushion.
"He's adorable," Ellie smiled, though she thankfully refrained from making those ridiculous high-pitched noises humans seemed to emit whenever they were addressing animals.
Still, Brain crossed his arms. There were better adjectives to describe Snowball. Greedy, selfish, and irritating were the first ones he could think of.
Ellie placed her hand on the table while Pinky directed Snowball over. Snowball sniffed her fingers twice, then balanced on the edge of the table.
Brain saw Snowball's hind muscles tense. He abandoned his chair, knocking it over as he rushed to help Pinky cling to Snowball's back and balance his weight so he didn't fall off. Snowball wasn't enhanced anymore. A fall from this height could be dangerous.
But Snowball had no qualms and launched himself onto Ellie's purse, Brain nearly falling over the edge himself if it hadn't been for Pinky latching onto his bent tail and hauling him back to safety. Snowball burrowed underneath the flap that held her purse closed.
Just as Brain recovered from his adrenaline rush, there was a distressed squeal from inside Ellie's purse. Ellie undid the catch and peered into the opening, her eyebrows rising in surprise. She reached in and pulled Snowball out. His incisors were caught in a plastic wrapped apple.
Snowball screeched, limbs flailing as Ellie set him on the table. Without hesitation, she held him firmly with one hand while removing the plastic from his teeth with the other. "This was supposed to be my lunch," Ellie explained when Brain glared at her. "I got caught up in research and didn't get a chance to eat."
Once the plastic was gone, she carefully opened Snowball's mouth. "Doesn't look like he swallowed any," she reported as she let him up. She unwrapped the apple, Snowball slipping though and tearing a huge chunk out of the fruit's skin before she could finish. "He's definitely a glutton for apples."
"Feed him lots of apples! That's his favorite!" Pinky chirped.
Though part of him was grateful for Ellie's forethought, Brain wrenched Snowball's jaw open to see for himself. Snowball made a muffled noise at Brain's rough handling.
Her work had been thorough. No trace of plastic in sight.
The incident proved that Snowball's health and well-being would be taken care of. Brain had run out of excuses.
His observations converged into one conclusion.
"You passed," Brain murmured.
Ellie was taking Snowball home. He would never see Snowball again. Wasn't that the plan all along? To find someone who would care for Snowball?
Then…
Why was he hoping for a failure?
Ellie glanced at him as she ran a finger across Snowball's back. Snowball didn't seem to mind. "Did you say something?"
"Just take him! Take him and leave already!" Brain spat.
He stomped over to his miniature desk, slamming one fist into its side. He didn't make it to the chair though.
His legs buckled before he could sit down, and he couldn't make them move. His throat felt too tight, his lungs aching for air. Or maybe it was his heart's fault. Perhaps it was a heart attack causing the pain in his chest. He no longer had the strength to hold his ears up, and they fell limp, broadcasting his vulnerability to the world.
Harsh, ugly noises clawed their way out of his throat. They came fast, merciless, and innumerable.
A warm presence settled against his side, drawing him closer until Brain's head rested against fabric and fur. Like a child, he sought out the source and clung so it wouldn't disappear.
"Ellie's waiting outside, Brain," a voice whispered in his ear. "I asked her to give us time to say goodbye."
Goodbye was such a final word.
"Why?" Brain choked, once he found the proper syllable.
"Cause you didn't get to say goodbye before."
As though it was the most obvious thing in the world. But Pinky only knew the bare facts of the sorrowful tale, the sparse details Brain had shared with him. How Pinky inferred it was beyond Brain.
He wanted to deny it. Argue that an angry goodbye still counted as a goodbye.
But he never had the opportunity to say goodbye with any sort of emotion, rendering it a moot point.
"I don't know, Pinky," Brain murmured. He wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks, noticing little damp spots all over his disguise. "It seems so…absolute."
"Poit. You always help me when the words swirl like Campbell's alphabet soup on my tongue. You just need the right letters," Pinky declared. He stood up and helped Brain to his feet.
Brain blinked the rest of the dampness away. He took a deep breath, then took a step towards Snowball, who was watching him curiously while scarfing down the last of the apple.
And he froze.
Each step brought him closer to saying that final word.
Pinky nudged him from behind, helping him step forward when he was too afraid to do it himself.
"Snowball, come here," Brain ordered. It took all his willpower to keep his voice steady.
And Snowball obeyed. He looked at Brain innocently, like nothing had ever changed between them. Like the world had never gotten in the way.
The words didn't come.
Brain threw his arms around Snowball's neck, eliciting a surprised squeal. But Snowball didn't pull away, and Brain committed the feel of his fur without barriers to memory.
Then Brain released him, fearing that prolonged contact would result in a crying spell that would never cease.
The carrier was on a nearby counter. It was time for Snowball to go in.
Brain didn't bribe Snowball with food this time. He didn't need to. Snowball followed him across the longboard that served as a bridge between the table and counter, trusting Brain even as he led him into the carrier.
It was lined with several soft, fluffy hand towels. Pinky had plucked them out of the lab's selection. His choices were excellent. Snowball would be comfortable despite the cramped space. Squeezing past Snowball, Brain moved out of the carrier and firmly latched the door behind him.
Snowball shuffled over to Brain, front paws grasping the bars as he balanced on his hind legs.
Brain placed a hand against Snowball's stomach, the warm white fur intermingling with the cold mesh of the carrier. There was a barrier that could never be crossed.
Snowball closed his eyes, a pleased trill escaping him.
Pinky stood off to the side and pursed his lips together as he tried to stay quiet. He wasn't successful, but Brain appreciated the gesture.
"I lied earlier, Pinky," Brain admitted as he stroked Snowball's fur through the bars. Tickling wasn't something he could ever go back to. "Snowball wasn't named for his physical characteristics."
Pinky blinked. "Did you name him like you named me?"
Of course Pinky would view it at a sentimental angle. It was just a fact and nothing more. But since Brain brought it up, he supposed he owed Pinky an explanation.
"We learned how to read together after our splicing. One night, someone left a book behind. Animal Farm, by George Orwell. There was a character…a pig named Snowball. The pig led a revolution against the farmer, and inspired both of us with his ideals of a better world. And I told him to take on Snowball's identity, because he loved the character so much."
Pinky was quiet for a moment, then he offered Brain a tiny smile.
"Thanks for telling me, Brain," he said, unmistakable sincerity pouring from every word.
"Yes, but don't get used to it," Brain replied. "If you have anything you wish to tell Snowball, now would be the time."
With some trepidation, Brain removed his hand from Snowball's stomach and stepped away from the carrier. Snowball whined in protest, but Brain didn't give in. This would be the last time he'd ever touch Snowball.
"Snowball," Pinky began. The hamster paid no attention to him and only focused on Brain, but Pinky refused to let it discourage him. "I promise I'll take care of Brain. Make sure you watch him on TV when he gets to be king of the world! Don't worry. I'll hold onto him so he doesn't fall off the boat. Eat your veggies, brush your teeth, drink lots of milk…"
Seeing that Pinky had nothing of substance to say, Brain ordered him to bring Ellie in. Brain closed his eyes, the brief silence reminding him of the nights when it had just been him and Snowball fighting to make sense of an oppressive world.
Snowball would have a fresh start. Someone he could make fond memories with, memories that wouldn't be tainted by loss, hatred, and anger.
In the end, that was all Brain wanted for Snowball. Just the simple joy of knowing someone would care about him.
He heard the clack of Ellie's heels against tile, Pinky tripping over his hem again, and Snowball scratching at the bars of the carrier.
Brain opened his eyes, bowing his head as Ellie lifted the small carrier off the counter.
"I apologize for my outburst earlier," Brain said. "Take care of Snowball. He was...is very important to me."
Ellie nodded. "It's alright. And I promise I will. Best of luck during your move."
She stopped halfway out the door, letting Snowball see them one final time. Brain held up one hand. That was all he could manage.
Snowball gripped the mesh and squealed. It could've meant anything, but Brain decided to interpret it as a goodbye for his peace of mind.
"Good luck with your dessertation!" Pinky called after her. "Save me a slice if the judges don't eat it all first!"
The familiar inanity helped the ache in his chest. Not enough to heal completely, but just enough to close the hole.
Brain headed over to the window, and Pinky dutifully followed. Ellie crossed the street, rounded the corner, and then she and Snowball were gone.
They shed their disguises. Their mission was complete, and there was no need for clothing anymore.
Brain stood there, raw and exposed, the complete opposite of what an emperor should project to the world.
The tears fell anew.
Pinky tucked Brain under his arm, humming a soothing melody into his ear. Bracing himself against Pinky's side, he allowed himself to speak those final words.
"Goodbye, old friend."
And it was freeing.
End notes: I think this is the most tonal shifts I've ever had in a oneshot. Pinky keeps breaking into the angst.
Hope you enjoyed, because this fic was a challenge. A fun challenge, but there were parts where I needed to take a moment and scream into the void.