Chapter 1: Family Dog
"Alright, Rupert. When last we left Secret Agent Greg…" The baby was kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, assorted playthings spread out before him, while his good buddy Rupert looked on.
"He had just said goodbye to his loving wife…" Stewie pushed a male doll in a suit toward a female doll to make them kiss, before discarding the latter over his shoulder "...and was helicoptering…" he placed the male doll astride a toy helicopter and swooped his arm through the air, making the doll fly through the sky "...to meet with the head of the mysterious Globatech Corporation… Eh? What's that, Rupert?" The boy stopped what he was doing to listen to what his stuffed bear was "saying".
"I don't care if that's a generic name for a company, Rupert!" Stewie snapped, hands on his hips. "You know, sometimes I think you really focus on the wrong things. You're not..." he waggled a finger at the bear judgmentally "...you're not a big picture guy, Rupert."
The baby had the helicopter arrive behind a dollhouse. Or, as he put it, "the palatial mansion of the head of Globatech Corporation". Another suited-up male doll emerged from the dollhouse. Stewie talked for him.
"Ah. Secret Agent Gay- I mean, Greg," Stewie-as-doll-executive quickly amended. "Surely you didn't think you could sneak in the back undetected? If you're here to investigate me, may I suggest you come inside, and we begin this conversation over some mojitos?"
"Alright, Stewie." The door to the child's room opened, and Lois stepped inside, stooping down with arms outstretched to collect him. "We're gonna have a family meeting, so I need everybody downstairs right now."
The tot dropped his toys and immediately began to struggle, "What? Nooooo! I'm in the middle of something important here, you vile woman! Unhand me this instant!"
As per usual, his protests went ignored, and soon, he gave up in a huff folding his arms and staring forward scoldingly as his mother carried him downstairs and placed him on the couch in between his two horrible excuses for siblings. He looked over and saw Brian sitting off to the side in the recliner, a blank expression on his face, leg crossed over the other, and sort of rubbing his hands together, what...nervously? Was that it? He couldn't tell. Not that he honestly cared that much. There was silence awhile. The child turned back to address his mother, becoming rather annoyed.
"Well? What was so important that you had to drag me away from my activities? Hmmm? Out with it, woman! I don't have all bloody day!"
As if she had actually heard her son this time, Lois began speaking.
"Kids, I know we've all been going through a hard time these past couple of months, and that it's still going to take more time before things feel normal in this house again. But, at the end of the day, we should all be grateful. Things could have been a lot worse…"
She paused as if contemplating her words before inhaling and continuing.
"It's terrible that we lost your father, but aside from the pain that comes from that, we've still been able to maintain our quality of life here. We still have a roof over our heads. We still have electricity, running water, food on the table. We even still have cable. It's practically a miracle, and I couldn't have done it on my own. You all have one person to thank for taking care of you through this tough time."
The boy watched as her gaze shifted over towards the dog in the chair. His arms unfolded, and his head tilted curiously as she continued.
"Despite hurting just as much as all of us, Brian was still there. He remained strong for us. Strong for me…"
She walked over to the dog who was now wringing his hands a bit and knelt down at the side of the chair, taking his hand into her own. Stewie's cold expression fell into one of confusion.
What the devil..?
"If not for Brian, we could have lost everything."
The woman was tearing up now. The boy turned his eyes towards the interlocked hands of woman and dog, unable to pull his gaze away, not quite processing the action. Lois was caressing that paw quite...tenderly. And what was that? Did she have a new ring?
Where did she get…
His eyes went wide.
No…
He turned his head, finally looking away to refocus his attention on Brian's face, only to be surprised when he found the canine looking right at him. Their eyes met, and Stewie could tell Brian could read through his puzzled expression. He knew. He knew Stewie knew.
Lois was finally pulling herself together.
"I can never repay this man, right here, for all he has done for this family in such a short time. He's not only kept us afloat, but he's provided a sense of comfort that I was afraid I'd never be able to feel again. He's taken up the mantle of man of this house, and well...we've decided to make that official."
The two turned and smiled at each other, Lois nodding her head as if giving him the go ahead. Brian took a deep breath and turned back to address the children on the couch.
"Kids, me and your mother have decided to marry."
An awkward silence fell over the room. Stewie still had his eyes locked on Brian, trying to discern every minute detail of the dog's expression. He seemed happy enough. Of course, this should come as no surprise. He knew how the canine felt about his mother. This must have been a dream come true for him. ...Something was off, though.
"Mom? Don't you think this a little...soon?"
The voice of Meg pulled Stewie back to the events at hand. He looked over at his sister, nodding in agreement, an automatic response.
"We understand your concern, honey, but me and Brian have talked about this a lot. It's time we all got back on our feet, and having Brian more securely in this role will help bring us stability. This is good for all of us."
Lois said this with a warm smile, obviously trying to ease her daughter's mind. Stewie couldn't tell if she had succeeded. It certainly hadn't worked on him…
"Sooooo…"
Chris finally spoke up.
"Brian is my new daddy?"
Stewie shivered at the words.
Daddy…
Brian spoke.
"Now, Chris, I could never replace your father. That's not what I'm trying to do. Do I care about this family, though? Yes. There's nothing I care about more. Do I want to help you guys heal after our tragic loss? Yes. If that requires me filling the role that Peter left… Then, that's what I'm willing to do."
Stewie rolled his eyes at Brian's roundabout response.
In simpler terms he'd actually be able to understand: "Yes, son!"
There was silence again. Lois cleared her throat to break it.
"So, are there any more questions? We all understand what's happening here?"
Stewie motioned as if to address his mother but did not speak, knowing his words would simply go ignored by her.
Uh, yes, I have one, mother dearest. You do realize how awful you're being here? Right? Hmmm!? Because I'm pretty sure there's a social convention that says you should wear your widow's weeds for longer than this, you harlot.
He glared at her, trying to at least get across how terrible he thought she was. I mean, really, this was madness. Was Stewie the only one who could see how crazy this was? He'd seen some crazy things in his time, but in his astute opinion, this took the cake. The skank ignored him, though, only adding to his ever increasing displeasure at things. His arms folded once more as he stared the "couple" down. When Brian did finally turn back to look at him, his soft smile fell. The boy smirked at him.
Good. You should feel terrible, dog.
They continued to watch each other, Stewie keeping up an expression of smug superiority while Brian actually seemed seriously uncomfortable. It was, for several long moments, as if the canine had lost the taste for the triumph he'd intended to savor, and the infant was at least pleased that his shaming glare could put a sour flavor in that mutt's mouth.
But then, Lois started speaking again, standing up after giving Brian's paw one last squeeze, and resting her hands on the back of his chair, ring once more displayed prominently.
"Good. We've agreed there won't be a long engagement. No point to that. We've decided we want to be married…" The woman paused and drew on a long, audible breath. Far from a totally joyous engagement announcement, the stress was obviously getting to her. "And so, well...we're just going to go ahead and get married. Soon."
Brian had regained a semblance of a smile, and when his bride-to-be bent over him and asked, in an awkward, haltering sort of voice, "Didn't we agree that's for the best? ...D-D-Dear?" she smiled tautly, but the dog practically beamed.
"We did, honey. No sense in waiting," he agreed, nodding around at the room, while studiously avoiding eye contact with Stewie.
"So that's it, then," said Lois briskly, straightening up. She gestured toward the kitchen. "Meeting adjourned and dinner is served. I made a roast to celebrate. It should be done by now."
Chris and Meg got up and shuffled after her, still looking pretty dumbfounded, but as Brian started climbing out of his chair, Stewie stopped him by humming the wedding march, with a more than slightly psychotic tinge to it.
He saw the canine's shoulders sag as the dog turned to look at him.
"You realize how royally stupid this whole thing is, right?"
Brian immediately went on the defensive, retorting in a loud whisper, so as not to attract attention from the next room.
"Why? Why is it stupid, Stewie? Do tell. With your- with your vast knowledge of human relationships and human feelings!"
The child snorted. "And what do you know from human, dog? What a lowdown, mangy thing to do. Well, you always did want to take his place, didn't you? Congratulations. You got what you wanted," he drawled, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on his heels, smiling unpleasantly.
"I'm not taking his place!" Brian argued. "What did I just say to Chris?" He then dropped his seething demeanor and attempted to swap it for dismissiveness, gesturing with his paw as though to wave away Stewie's criticism. "Clearly, you're just not mature enough to understand the situation. There are a lot of factors in play-"
"You're thinking with your dick," Stewie interrupted, glaring. "And how DARE you talk about my maturity level?!" The child was extremely indignant. He was surprised that Brian's comment actually...hurt. Unlike the remarks about him lacking proper human emotions, this one actually felt personal. He balled his hands into fists at his sides. "What the hell do you know about me, Brian? You think just because...because of my chronological age, and because we've- we've shared a lark or two, that you're fit to judge me? You'll never even come close to understanding me, you plebian perisher! I've shared nothing at all important with you. You go around, panting after your heart's desires for all to see, but I'm a little deeper. A little more elevated. You're all surface, dog, and you are lowly!" he spat, wondering for a moment if he may be going apoplectic, and decided to reign himself in. At the very least, by focusing on defending himself, he was losing track of the goal at hand. He wasn't on trial. That miserable curr they called Brian was.
"I've seen things you will never be privy to," the baby went on, composedly now. "Done things you will never accomplish. And I understand more than your puny canine mind will ever grasp."
"Brian?" called Lois from the kitchen. "Is Stewie getting fussy?"
"Very much so, Lois, but it'll be fine!" Brian hollered back, his tone more assuring than the look on his face. With his next words, directed at the angry infant opposite him, he also sounded rattled.
"What- what you were describing, Stewie," he started, plainly trying (and failing) to put on his best older-and-wiser voice, "when you were, uh, talking about about things I can't understand, because I've never seen or done them? That's just…" he laughed nervously "...that's just the human experience. There are things I've seen and done that you'll never fully get, either. W-W-We don't share the same...perspective, because we don't have the same life experiences, you see?"
"You calmed him down?" came Lois's voice again, to which Brian replied, after an uncertain moment of hesitation,
"Yeah! I'll take him up to bed, if you want, honey! I don't think he wants supper!"
Stewie cackled hysterically. "Send me to bed without supper, huh? Oh, bravo you, and your disciplining me for telling the truth! And just what the hell were you blithering on about with that malarky you just spewed? Been hitting the parenting advice books already? Well, save it."
The boy pivoted on his foot and pointed himself in the direction of the stairs. "And no need to take me to bed, either. You're not my father. And you're not my friend." He strolled out of the room and onto the staircase, continuing to drop bombs. "And while I'm at it," he shouted, without even bothering to look back, "I may as well ask if you're deluded enough to believe that Lois loves you, or ever could love you, in that way. You'll never be anything more than the family dog."
That said, the child pounded the rest of the way up the stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him. He couldn't believe this ridiculous family. Just when he thought it couldn't get more idiotic and dysfunctional, he was proven wrong. Now here was his mother, only a couple months after the death of his father, selling herself to the family dog like a leg of mutton about to go bad. And of course, that flea-bitten scoundrel, Dead Daddy's supposed best friend, was salivating at the prospect. Now Stewie would have a stepdoggy, and…
And you think that I don't understand this situation? Stewie thought heatedly as he made his way to his room. You, dog, you think that I'm being childish about this? I'm the only one who sees things for what they are!"
He had no desire to be an obedient little tyke, and toddle off to bed like he'd been told, but once he was in his room, he instinctively sought the refuge of his crib, as a comfortable spot to have some peace and reflect.
You would insult my intelligence like that? Stewie was still arguing with Brian in his head. And he found, as he settled himself back against the pillows, intending only to sulk, that he actually was somewhat tired. He let out a yawn.
I see things for what they are… I thought you saw me… At least a little bit…
His thoughts were muddled as he fell into sleep. He only vaguely realized, as slumber was claiming him, that he felt...betrayed.
Unlike most huge events that occurred in his home, Stewie found that this was something that he couldn't just brush off with a roll of his eyes and a snarky comment. Over the next several days, his mind was constantly racing with thoughts regarding the pairing of his mother and his best...uh...his dog. It was to the point that even he began to wonder why he cared about this so much, and it was driving him mad.
"Kids, I need everyone in the living room. I have a biiiiiig announcement to make."
The baby was on the floor of his room, clutching a small female doll and using a high-pitched voice as he made it speak to three other dolls he had lying off to the side. He made the three dolls representing the kids walk over and have a seat next to the mommy doll on the floor. The boy sighed.
He'd even spent the last several days actively avoiding that awful woman and Brian. He just had no desire to see either or them, afraid the simple sight of them would turn his stomach and make him ill.
Must be allergic to morons…
After all the doll children had gathered together, the mommy doll walked over to stand next to another male doll that was sitting just off to the side. He made the daughter speak like a valley girl to make the two females distinct..
"Uhhhhhh, ok, mother. What do you want?"
Then, the youngest, this time speaking in his normal voice.
"Why, yes, please get on with it. Me and my siblings don't have all day."
Then the middle child, the other brother who was represented by a dopey voice.
"Duuuuuh, I'm bored!"
It wasn't like Stewie honestly cared that much about Brian and Lois doing wrong by the fatman. God, as if he honestly cared that much about the fatman. But, Brian was being a hypocrite, especially after what he'd said at the funeral. It was just...wrong. Stewie knew that much, and he didn't like it one bit.
He looked over to Rupert, who was sitting off to the other side of the room watching him. The infant shot the bear a scowl before continuing with his playtime, making the mommy doll laugh and bat her hand dismissively.
Bitch…
"Don't rush me, kids. Me and Brad here have big news."
And without a single moment of hesitation, that news was delivered with exaggerated joy through gritted baby teeth.
"We're getting maaaaaaarrrrrrrrriiiiiied!"
Stewie found he was clutching the doll quite tightly and loosened his grip before taking a breath to calm himself. He looked back over to Rupert who was still just sitting there...watching. The boy just rolled his eyes and continued as the youngest spoke again.
"But, mother! That's such a bad idea! What? Are you, retarded?!"
Now, Brad interjected.
"Steven, don't talk to your mother that way!"
Steven shot back angrily.
"Don't fucking tell me what to do you horn dog! I see what's going on here, and it's pathetic! You're not my father! She doesn't love you! You're just being used and going along with it because you finally have a shot at getting in her ugly pants! Ahhhhhhh!"
He chucked the male doll across the room, feeling his body beginning to shake with a rage that was all too familiar now. It took him a second to compose himself, setting the mommy doll down and looking back over at where Rupert was sitting.
"What?"
He shot over at his teddy bear.
"What's your problem? I see you over there silently judging me. You have something to say to me? Be a fucking man and say it."
At this, the bear finally spoke up, asking just why it was that Stewie was so bothered by this. It didn't seem like him to care so much. The child just chuckled mirthlessly.
"It's just so stupid, Rupert! And you know how much I hate morons. I'm surrounded by morons! At least Brian acted like he actually had a brain, most of the time, but now, after this, oh no! He's proven to be the biggest idiot in this bloody household now that the fatman is gone. It's frustrating constantly being surrounded by such stupidity. I have no one here that shows even one iota of common sense, and I have to live with these people! So, yes, forgive me for being so bothered by the proof that I am truly alone in my own home."
There was silence. The bear said nothing back, and the infant scoffed.
Yeah. That's what I thought. Nothing to say now, huh?
Suddenly, the door opened. The baby turned and was shocked to find Brian simply waltzing into his room, casually tapping his paw against the door frame.
"Knock. Knock."
Stewie rolled his eyes and had to keep himself from practically growling as he spoke.
"What do you want?"
The canine made a face like he wanted to flinch away, but he remained standing firm as he slowly shut the door and began taking steps towards the boy.
"Look, Stewie. We need to talk."
The child took one step back before realizing what he was doing and instead standing firm himself. He folded his arms and huffed.
"Oh. Do we, now?"
Brian sighed as he came to stand by the infant before kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder, speaking gently.
"Yes. We do."
He squeezed. Stewie felt his body grow tense. A silence followed before Stewie finally couldn't bear it anymore.
"S-So are you going to say whatever it is you feel you need to say or are you going to just sit there groping me all day?"
Brian's face went blank, but he didn't remove his paw as he obviously contemplated his next words.
"I just…"
He paused, forcing himself to meet the baby's eyes.
"I just want things to be good between us."
Stewie tilted his head.
"Good between us?"
The dog nodded.
"Well, yeah. I mean, this whole...marriage thing, I can tell it's upsetting you. You have to understand that's not what I wanted. You and me, well, things were good between us, right? It was rough there, at first, but we were starting to get along more often than not, even if we could still both be jerks to each other. We're better off now than we were before. At least that's how I feel, and I'd just...I'd really like to keep it that way, Stewie. I know this is a big change, but I care about you, kiddo. I just want you to remember that. I'm doing this for the family. I'm doing this for you. It's for the best. I believe that, even if you hate me for it…"
He looked down and let go of the child's shoulder.
"But I don't want you to hate me."
Stewie could tell that Brian was trying, in his own way, to be sincere, and he could at least appreciate that. He inhaled and unfolded his arms, his expression growing ever so slightly softer.
"I don't hate you. Ok? Brian, I don't hate you. I just think you're making a big mistake. I can't help but see this whole thing as incredibly stupid. You could at the very least try giving it more time. Do you even realize what you're jumping into here?"
The dog finally looked back up.
"As I said before, I can understand your concerns. And...in a way...I appreciate them. But, me and Lois did give this a lot of thought. I promise you that. This is the right move. This is for the best."
The infant rolled his eyes and sighed, feeling frustration boiling in his gut again but trying to keep his cool, at least for now.
"You really believe that? You're sure beyond a shadow of a doubt? Because that's what this is going to take. This isn't some small change. It's going to be like living in a completely different world. If things go wrong, they're going to go really wrong."
For the briefest moment, Stewie thought he caught a hint of uncertainty in the canine's expression, but if it had been there, it was quickly masked as the dog smiled and replied, "I believe that, Stewie. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
The child fought the urge to shake his head and instead forced his own smile in return.
"Well, I guess I can't change that. All I can do is...wish you two...the best."
The infant felt his stomach turn at the words, but he knew there was no talking sense into the mutt and a part of him did share Brian's sentiment. Things were good between them. Why couldn't they stay that way? Why lose a friend over this? As he mulled things over, he was taken off guard when he felt the dog's furry arms wrap around him and pull him into a hug. Without thinking about it much, he opted to return the gesture, casually bringing his arms around the furry animal in return, feeling so very awkward as he did it. Brian gave him a firm squeeze and kissed his forehead.
"Thanks, sport. That means a lot."
The boy said nothing, simply feeling confused, enjoying the embrace in his own way but wanting to recoil at the words the dog had spoken, at the use of the word 'sport'. It didn't feel right. None of this felt right. Finally, Brian released him, shooting him one last warm smile before briskly standing and making his way back out of the room. Stewie just continued to stand there, trying to process the rush of emotions he was feeling. For the first time in his life, he was baffled. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. He didn't know what was going to happen. He was just...uncomfortable, and he felt sick. Why did he care so much? Why were these circumstances bringing out such strong emotions within him? How could a genius like him not be able to figure something so simple out? He reached up to rub at his temples feeling a headache coming on as his mind raced.
God, I need an Anacin…
They hadn't lied about "soon". The engagement lasted about as long as the courtship. Well, the official courtship, Stewie reflected. Not counting the time Brian spent trying to win her over before the fatman died. Which must date from the day the dog was brought home.
The youngest Griffin child was trying to make his peace with Lois and Brian's changed relationship and forthcoming marriage, though, he honestly was, and felt like he should get a medal for how well he was doing with that, even if he wasn't exactly happy about his world being flipped upside down in this manner.
The family prepared for the wedding, and all the motions were gone through. Stewie half expected, this being that vile woman's second marriage and one of convenience, for her to be so unromantic about it that there would be a weekday civil service at the courthouse or something, with Lois clad in her customary discount housewife frumpery and Brian in only his collar.
However, a full wedding was planned, though planned for in a rush. One day, Lois chose Meg of all people to accompany her on a shopping trip, during which she came back with a wedding dress. Stewie had yet to see it, but was willing to bet, with the decision having only been left in the hands of those two, that whether that gown contained a train or not, that red-headed harpy was going to be a trainwreck. Oh, well. Not that Stewie had wanted to go along. Not that he would give either that ridiculous cow or this ridiculously bad idea of a marriage the favor of his aid. He'd promised himself he wouldn't hinder, but that didn't mean promising to help.
The boy had almost been invited to go along with Brian to pick out the groom's tux. Stewie didn't need special canine olfactory powers to sniff out that plot a'brewin', after overhearing the dog in the kitchen with Chris. It had involved a hastily drawn picture of the park (that embarrassed Stewie's true artistic talents) and taking it to Lois while stabbing his finger at it until he wanted to stab her more than usual, but the woman had finally gotten what he was driving at and taken him out of the house before Brian could ask. Thus, he made his escape.
A wedding with all the trappings meant a rehearsal, and before long, they found themselves at the appointed day. The real big day would be the following, but still, there seemed to be a certain gravity about this one. Stewie woke up with a feeling that seemed like a portent, like having to go through this vision of things to come made everything much more real. It wasn't even the wedding day, but knowing the preview was coming up brought forth all the trepidation of being about to see into the future. Here they were, stepping through the portal into their new universe.
Maybe Lois felt it, too, because she made herself conspicuously scarce all day. With a frazzled air about her, she ran in and out of the house, claiming to still have a million little things left to do for the wedding. Stewie mostly kept to himself as rehearsal time grew nigh, hanging out in the living room with his building blocks and occasionally watching T.V. Now and then he saw her hurrying past, but some time in the mid afternoon, she seemingly vanished.
The plan was to leave at 5, and meet the minister at the church at 5:30. After the rehearsal, they were all to go out to a nice dinner. The male Griffins were in their suits, and Meg had put on a dress, and they were waiting for Lois to come back to the house.
Brian seemed nervous as he sat on the couch, tapping on the crystal of his watch. It was five minutes after 5, and they'd all been sitting there, waiting in their dress clothes, for about a half an hour.
His siblings were getting bored, Stewie could tell. Brian watched the window and his ears perked up with every car passing by on the street.
"I wonder where Mom could be," Meg sighed for the twentieth time, staring tiredly at the T.V. screen. Renee Zellweger showed off her "hidden talent" siphoning a two-foot-high mountain of ants from a plate while on the Ellen Degeneres show, and the audience cheered and counted down with the timer.
Brian twitched at her words. He tugged at his necktie, and for a white dog, he seemed somehow paler. He was acting as though he felt vaguely ill, and Stewie took a bit of pity on him, scooting closer.
"I'm sure it's just traffic," the baby muttered. "Or, you know, she ran into some gal pal while out someplace. They probably just started clucking away like two hens, you know how women are." He chuckled and elbowed Brian's arm.
The dog gave a dry, obviously-forced laugh and a weak smile. "Of course. I-I guess I'll have to get used to, uh, things like that happening, huh, kid? Wives must do things like that to their husbands all the time. I...I'm just a little concerned she may have...broken down somewhere, or something. Her car. Guess I-I can't stop my mind from going there." He chuckled again, ruefully. "I just love her so much…"
"Wait, did you say Mom had a car accident?" Chris screeched, his head whipping around, eyes gone wide. "Oh, my god, I'm an orphan!"
At that moment, the phone rang, and Meg reached over to answer it as Chris yelled that it was the graveyard calling. Meg put her hand over the transmitter.
"It's Mom!"
Their ignoramus brother shrieked and asked if she was sure it wasn't "Zombie Mom calling, or a ghost!"
Rolling her eyes, Meg replied, "I'm sure." and resumed talking to the tardy bride-to-be.
Stewie tried to hold himself back, but before he knew it, he was flashing a smirk over at Brian and saying, "Hey, if we're going to be getting phone calls from ghosties and ghoulies at the graveyard, I'm betting it would more likely come from some supernatural form of the dearly departed fatman, wanting to know why his best buddy's preparing to marry his wife, amirite?"
But, in his defense, the infant then smiled much more good-naturedly, to let on that it was only a friendly ribbing.
Meg hung up the phone and announced to them all, "You were right, Brian. It was some car trouble, but nothing serious. Mom says just to meet her at the church."
"That car trouble must have been worse than she thought."
They sat together on the altar, the dog looking totally downcast.
Well, Brian had just been left at the altar. Literally, yet somehow...unofficially. This was only the rehearsal, but the implications could still be the same. Nobody seemed all that interested in being reassuring.
Meg had been able to muster, "Mom is coming. I don't think she would've put us through all this for nothing."
Meanwhile, Chris whined about being hungry and wanting to go to McBurgertown for a kid's meal. (Nevermind that wasn't where the family had planned on eating afterward.) Babs and Carter had come to the rehearsal, as Carter was meant to give away the bride, and Lois's father kept repeating that hopefully she had wised up, because,
"First she married that brainless lard ass- God rest his fat, stupid soul- and now she's marrying an actual dog? This is getting ridiculous!"
The priest had disappeared into some chamber somewhere, and that left Brian and Stewie. Sitting on the steps of the altar. It was a quarter to 6.
The canine was now openly sulking, which was most tedious to Stewie. Ever since the fatman died, it had just been relationship dysfunction surrounding poor ole Stu, all day, every day! ...Of a different sort than he'd been used to before, obviously.
"She's standing me up," Brian muttered forlornly, seemingly more to himself than to the baby beside him. "She's actually doing this. Why? Why would she…?"
The priest reappeared and pointed at the clock.
"Folks, we do need to get a move-on. This rehearsal is due to be over with at 6:30, and then I have to start setting up for something else. Although you are all welcome to stay for church casino night."
"I thought the church didn't approve of gambling?" asked Meg tentatively, sitting bored in her front-row pew.
"Hmm?" responded the priest distractedly. "Oh, well...you're forgetting that verse about...all work and no playing, er, making Johnny a dull boy...and always bet on red and…" He stifled a yawn while sidling back toward the door he'd just emerged from. "Look, just hurry it along." And he exited again.
Brian sighed heavily, and Stewie turned to look at him. The child was startled to see tears actually welling up in the canine's eyes. Stewie felt a pang. He still found the wedding and everything related to it to be entirely annoying, but now...good god, was he actually feeling sorry for the poor jilted fool? What was happening to him?
The dog pinched the bridge of his nose, and with his paws up by his eyes, contrived to wipe the tears away.
"I don't understand," he muttered. "I was good. I was so good…"
Carter stood up from his pew. "C'mon, Babs, let's just head home. It appears for the moment as though Lois has come to her senses. I don't like to leave that new maid alone in the house without one of us to watch her. Just what is she doing with all that Lemon Pledge? She always needs more!"
With that, Carter and Babs were gone, and Stewie's oafish brother and sister were immaturely scuffing their shoes against the floor to create an irritating squeaking sound.
It was getting on the infant's last nerve.
"Hey!" he snapped loudly and severely. "Cut that out, the both of you! Go sit in the car! I think Brian's got some prestige magazine in there that he subscribes to in order to look smart. You can look at the pictures. Now, it's a warm day, so make sure you leave the windows rolled all the way up."
Whether or not they were going to take all of Stewie's suggestions, Chris and Meg did get up and leave the church. The baby and the dog remained sitting together. The former cleared his throat awkwardly while gazing at his companion's hangdog expression. The infant was unsure of his next course of action, and wanted nothing as much as to make a snide remark, but found that for some inexplicable reason, he was unable to.
Yes, the dog, maybe the one person in the world Stewie didn't hate, was suffering, but bloody hell, he'd earned that suffering, hadn't he? Sure, all he was trying to do was find love and happiness with the woman he'd been- bafflingly- besotted with at first sight. But wasn't this about what Stewie had warned him would happen? He'd tried to make that maddening mutt see reason, and if anything, Lois not showing at the church today was probably a blessing. Better this happened sooner rather than later. This unholy union was probably doomed to begin with, and if Brian couldn't see that… Well, Stewie'd be damned if he was going to pick up the pieces of the heart the dog had recklessly bet on red.
And yet...the baby couldn't stop thinking about when Brian had come to his room and fondled his shoulder. His little hand twitched at his side. He lifted his arm once or twice, debating on whether to grasp the canine's shoulder. Why should he be there for Brian? What had Brian ever done for him? He might claim to care, but-
Jolly Farm. The memory probably came to him because of the fantasy connection. That was an instance in which Stewie had been duped by the foul treachery of fantasy. He had thought Jolly Farm would be everything he ever wanted, but it had all turned out to be a grand deception. The dog had told him that running away to Jolly Farm was folly, but he hadn't given him an "I told you so", at the end, had he? There was a good, loyal dog. There was man's best friend. Somebody who realized that giving comfort was more important than being right. Somebody who would...hold you when you were down. Somebody who would poop in Mother Maggie's shoes.
Since Lois's shoes weren't available at the moment, Stewie inched closer until their arms brushed, then slowly turned toward the canine and hugged him from the side. Tentative at first. Then, reasoning if Brian would try and shame him for a kind gesture from whatever goodness was in the evil baby genius's heart, the dog was nothing but an irredeemable douchebag, Stewie put his full weight behind that hug, holding fast.
Brian didn't respond, just allowed it to happen and looked numb. The priest popped his head out again.
"Oh! I heard people leaving. I thought everyone had left."
Brian raised his head and looked up at the priest as he'd probably never looked at a man of the cloth before, with liquid, pleading eyes.
"She could still come. She changed her mind once, she can change it back. It would just be the two of us here, now."
Well! thought Stewie huffily. Thanks a lot! He leaned away from the canine.
"We'd run through the rehearsal real quick," continued Brian. "All she has to do is show up in the next ten to fifteen minutes."
With a look that was part pitying, part annoyed, the priest walked over to Brian and lay a hand on the dog's shoulder.
"Love is patient," the holy man droned. "Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. But maybe you could be patient, kind, without envy, without boasting, and without pride at home. Maybe you could go wait at home for her to come back so you can hash this out."
Brian and Stewie both glared, and the man cleared his throat. He shrugged his shoulders in a much put upon way.
"Fine. I just thought maybe I'd get some time to myself, before I have to deal with the crap of the crapshooters."
"I believe that would be holy crap!" Stewie quipped, but his joke went unacknowledged.
"I'll tell you what," said the priest to Brian. "I'll give you ten more minutes to collect your thoughts and maybe clear out of here, huh?" He went back the way he came and disappeared into his chamber again.
Stewie grabbed Brian's paw and stood up, tugging on it. "Come on, Brian, we might as well just leave. He does have a point about how all of this can be done at home. Even if Lois…" he hesitated, saying anything reassuring about Lois to the dog feeling so wrong, but he powered through. Since he was doing this new thing now. Trying to have a friend.
"Even if she decides she was wrong not to come today," the infant continued, "or even if that car trouble was worse than she thought, I'm sure she wouldn't want us waiting around here all day. Weddings aren't rocket science. People figure them out without a rehearsal. You wait here, at this end of the aisle. She starts down there- " Stewie pointed toward the entrance to the auditorium, "and walks up the aisle toward you. Then you say some words. Easy peasy."
Brian looked reluctant. "You don't get it, kid." He groaned and shook his head. "Of course you don't, and I don't blame you for that, but if I leave right now… As soon as I leave this church, I'm admitting that today was a failure, and if today was a failure- "
The boy had had enough of this. Interrupting Brian, he asked briskly, "So you need a rehearsal before you can leave, hmm? Is that it? Okay, fine, fine, we'll do a rehearsal!" His voice grew louder until he was shouting, and while he was speaking, he was running down to the opposite end of the aisle, determined to give that gormless would-be groom what he wanted, or mock him, he wasn't sure which.
Stewie began a slow walk toward Brian. Like the day he and Lois had announced their betrothal, Stewie sang out a hysterical version of the wedding march. Brian was finally on his feet again.
"Oh, knock it off, what are you doing?" the dog hollered to the child. "What is this going to help?"
"Relax, dog!" Stewie called back. "I'm just standing in for Lois! You said you needed a rehearsal. Now you'll know what the ceremony will be like with her tomorrow."
The canine appeared somewhat queasy. "I did not say that! I need Lois here now, and you know why!"
"Is the visualization a problem? You don't see your blushing bride heading toward you? I assure you, I look quite striking in a dress, as well."
"Yeah, no doubt striking is one word for it. Stewie, just so you know, you're not really even giving out hints anymore, you're just making statements." Brian seemed to be shaking some of his gloom, if only from the power of falling into old patterns.
The jibes didn't phase Stewie. Quite the contrary; they almost made things feel ordinary.
Ordinary, even though he was rehearsing his mother's wedding to the family dog in her place, all because the family dog was devastated and Stewie actually cared for some reason.
"Now, your part is easy right now, you just stand there," the infant instructed. "I'm the one who's got to work the runway." He started to sashay his hips, doing his best model walk.
"You look ridiculous," declared the dog, his tone drained, but he was seemingly willing to play along. "That's not how a bride walks at all."
"I say, Brian," said Stewie, nearing the end of his walk, "you act rather fagged. Don't look so happy to see your bride. You'd better not have this attitude tomorrow. Show a little gaiety!"
"Oh, I think you've got enough for the both of us," Brian replied dryly. His expression twisted into a frown. "Stewie, you know as well as I do that if tomorrow happens as planned, I will be standing up here, the happiest son of a bitch in the world. But you shouldn't treat tomorrow like a given- "
He was beginning to sound exasperated and, worse, once again self-pitying. That wouldn't do.
"What a lovely philosophical practice, dog!" the baby raved blithely. "You're absolutely right: we shouldn't treat tomorrow as a given. All we have is the present. We've got to seize the moment!"
The child hopped into place beside the woebegone dog and took his paws into his hands. Brian looked at him in surprise. Stewie cleared his throat dramatically. "If the priest were here, he'd get us started, of course, but after that come the vows." He gave a lengthy pause, then eyed the canine critically. "You didn't write your own, did you?" He made sure it sounded more like a warning than a question.
"No, Lois didn't want to, and she said it would be stupid if only one of us had personalized vows. But what's with that look and that tone? I'll have you know I could've written my vows in a sonnet that would put Shakespeare- "
Stewie let out a loud combination cough and snort, emphatically waving his arms in front of himself like an umpire. "Um, NO. No, let's just stop you right there. First of all, can you give me the definition of a sonnet, Brian? To say nothing of your writing...skills. God, what arrogance. No wonder Lois went flee-ancée on her F-L-E-A ancé."
Noting Brian's hurt and angry look, the child changed tack and grabbed the canine's paws again. "But I'm certain that's only temporary. Where were we? Love, cherish, honor, and- well, I'll wager they'll have kept in 'obey' as one of the things you promise to do. Since you're a dog."
Brian sighed, and Stewie expected him to take issue with that comment, but when he met the mutt's eyes, they were soft and vulnerable. The baby felt a jolt in his gut. The paws in his hands were suddenly very heavy. Stewie suddenly felt...weird. This rehearsal felt weird, and he didn't know why.
"Stewie, you really are trying to help me, aren't you, kid?" Brian said forlornly, gaze locked on his infant companion's. "But there's no distracting me from the truth." Breaking eye contact, he looked down at their joined hands and squeezed Stewie's. The boy was riveted and repulsed at the same time. This was too...too...close. He wanted to yank his hands back and run away. But he didn't. He just stared at the dog's downcast features, and instead of squirming out of physical reach, he just let his insides squirm...most peculiarly.
Barking a mirthless chuckle, Brian went on. "I really thought this was going to be something special." He looked back up at the baby. "It- it felt right. I mean, I wasn't lying when I said that I thought this was for the best. I really felt that way. I feel that way. Not to mention, it's what I've always wanted. The love of a good woman. A family that I wasn't just brought into, but that I was central to!" His voice rose in passion and volume as he spoke. "Not that," he added quickly, "I don't appreciate being taken in in the first place. I'm grateful, Stewie, I'm so grateful."
Are my hands sweating? thought the baby. Ewww, do my hands sweat? They never used to. So now I'm just some gross, sweaty guy? Can Brian feel the sweat on my hands?"
"Anyway…" Brian exhaled long and low. Maybe he could feel sweat, because he released Stewie's hands. "I guess it didn't feel right to her, after all. Let's go home."
"Wait!" cried the baby, startling both himself and the dog. Brian looked at him questioningly, and Stewie forced a carefree laugh.
"Let the child finish feeling like he's helping. We're almost done running through this thing. Are you really that anxious to get home and brood? What if it turns out you need this information tomorrow?"
Brian rolled his eyes. "I know this information."
"Oh, yeah, smart guy?" Stewie challenged. "What is it?"
"Are you freaking kidding me?" the canine asked incredulously. He plainly wanted to leave now, so...mission accomplished? He was visibly mystified over Stewie's insistence on completing the charade, and the boy wanted to slap him. It wasn't like Stewie knew what was going on either!
"Okay...so." Brian massaged his temples. "We left off at the vows? Well, then, that's practically it, isn't it? There'd be the part with the rings… And then the priest would pronounce us married. There? Did I prove I know what I'm doing?"
"Not by a long shot," said Stewie crisply, letting Brian take that as he may. "But I suppose that is it, apart from sealing it with a kiss." And that was when an idea leapt to his mind, one as unhinged as any the mad scientist baby had ever had. And the best part was, he could play it all off as a joke.
He reached out and stroked Brian's chest, walking his little fingers up and down it and reveling in the dog's stupefied expression. He batted his lashes at the canine. "How about one last hoorah? Wanna kiss one last new person before you can't kiss anyone else for the rest of your life?" He drew nearer, leaning in and leaning in, about to close the gap…
"Time's up!" The voice of the priest was built for the pulpit, and rang out across the room. Stewie turned toward the source of it, feeling as though he'd just woken from a hypnotic state.
The priest was giving them an odd look, probably owing to the fact that a dog and a baby were standing at the altar of his church with their bodies pressed up against each other and the baby's hands resting on the dog's chest. Bloody hell, they were posed like a romance novel cover!
"Yeah, you've got plenty to work out, don't you?" said the priest tonelessly. "But at home," he added sternly, pointing them out the door.
Brian gave Stewie a gentle push back. "Just when I thought today couldn't get any worse. Let's go." He started to make his way out of the auditorium, with the child following behind.
The boy schooled his face to assume its customary impassive and mildly annoyed expression. Nobody must sense anything was amiss. Luckily, as he caught up with Brian and snuck an inconspicuous look at him, the canine didn't seem stuck back on what just happened. He just seemed sad again, thank heavens to Betsy. Not a word was uttered between them on the way out to the car, where Meg and Chris sighed loudly in relief at the sight of them and told them it was about time.
All was not right behind the youngest Griffin's scowl. During the ride home, his highly advanced brain worked at warp speed, trying to unravel what was behind that weird sort of sensation he felt in the church. It was like no phenomenon he'd ever heard of- instead of a come-to-Jesus moment, he'd had a come-on-to-Brian moment!
In his effort to make sense of things, Stewie endeavored to find a point of reference. And then was stunned to discover that the closest comparison he had was when he couldn't define his feelings toward Janet, that cookie loving little trollop at daycare. He'd been spellbound by her, too, by a pair of pretty green eyes and the perfect example of what a little girl should be.
That wasn't quite what had happened today, when holding Brian's hands and listening to his self-involved whining had made Stewie feel uncomfortable in such a...physical fashion, and then try to charge at him for a kiss. But the aspect of feeling awkward and the typically romantic-focused motivations of yearning for a kiss made it close enough to remind him.
The changing family dynamics had clearly brought on a, a...what was this, a skewed Electra Complex with one key difference? Well, whatever it was, it would have to be nipped in the bud! He wasn't really gay after all, was he? Least of all for dumb dogs that panted after vile women.
The next day proceeded as if nothing had gone wrong the day before. The time seemed to have zoomed right by, Stewie thought. One minute he was in the car heading back from the failed rehearsal, the next he was back in the car heading to the church with a beaming Brian, and now, here he was sitting in the pew as Lois made her way down the aisle. A part of him didn't want to believe it. How could he? Brian was marrying Lois! Even taking into account the dog's obvious feelings for his mother, none of it added up. Add on top of that the little moment he'd shared with the canine less than twenty-four hours earlier...
That damn rehearsal! What the bloody hell had he been thinking? At the time, he'd told himself he was just trying to distract Brian from his heartache at being abandoned by Lois, but that just didn't explain those last few moments in the church. A part of it was just getting enjoyment from teasing the dog, but...that wasn't all of it, either. If they hadn't been interrupted, Stewie was pretty sure he would have gone through with the kiss. As for how much he would have enjoyed it, that's something he wasn't really clear on since he was simply incapable of nailing down what his own motivations had been, in that moment.
Lois passed by the aisle he and his siblings were sitting in, momentarily pulling his attention away as he turned to look at her, a blank expression on his face as his eyes followed the rest of her walk, stopping once she was standing next to the dog who was wearing a fairly nice tux with a red bow tie. It looked good on him. Stewie could tell that he'd tried to look his best, which is more than he could say for Lois who looked like she'd just slapped on any old wedding dress and was obviously just going through the motions. The boy shook his head. All that effort for someone who was, in his eyes, doing this out of mere convenience. She simply wasn't worth it.
Stupid dog.
The wedding march ended, and the priest began speaking, though Stewie found he could hardly pay attention to what was being said. An ocean of white noise washed over him as he just focused in on the sight of his mother and Brian standing there at the front of the church.
Brian's tail was wagging. He really did seem happy. A part of Stewie wanted to be happy for him, but he simply couldn't muster up even the smallest smile. Oh, he'd be able to fake it later when it was necessary, but not here. Not now.
Not while he had to sit there and watch the one person he cared about make such a major mistake, completely unable to do anything to stop it. Not while he was experiencing such strange emotions, continuing to think about the incident from yesterday, the incident that occurred as he stood in the very spot Lois was standing now. No matter how much he went over it in his head, he just couldn't make sense of any of it, which was both baffling and maddening to a super genius such as himself.
For Christ's sake! He could create devices that used to only exist in science fiction, but he couldn't get a handle on what should be, to him, some basic domestic issues? It was so much easier when he simply didn't...care...at all. He knew there was no going back to that, though, because the truth of the matter was that he did care, now.
...And he cared a very great deal.
"Into this union Lois and Brian now come to be joined. If any of you can show just cause why they may not be lawfully wed, speak now, or else forever hold your peace."
Stewie had to fight the urge to stand up and shout...something...anything, but he knew his cries would go ignored. And, no one else wanted to bring up all the obvious red flags, like how fast this had all happened or how Lois had so completely abandoned Brian at rehearsal just one day before. Even Brian was just letting that slide. All it took was a simple apology from Lois, and he was completely over it! He just accepted that bullshit excuse about how she'd been nervous or whatever. That dumb mutt was so blind. It wasn't worth the effort, so he remained silent as the priest continued.
"I charge you both, here in the presence of God and the witness of this company, that if either of you know any reason why you may not be married lawfully and in accordance with God's Word, do now confess it."
A pause. Neither Lois nor Brian said anything. The priest proceeded on, turning to Lois.
"Lois, do you take this, uh...man to be your lawfully wedded husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? To love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him until death do you part?"
There was a brief moment of hesitation before the woman finally responded.
"I do."
Stewie felt his heart beginning to beat faster. His fists clenched.
"Brian, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? To love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto her until death do you part?"
The priest barely had time to finish before Brian exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Absolutely!"
The tension went out of Stewie as his fists unclenched and his head dropped slightly.
It's happening…
"Do all of you witnessing these promises swear to do all in your power to uphold these two...persons in marriage?"
For the first time ever, Stewie acknowledged defeat as the entirety of the congregation sans himself responded in unison.
"We do."
I don't.
No one paid the baby any mind as the ceremony continued on. Carter gave Lois away. Then, there was a hymn that Stewie was sure he'd never heard before. And, after that, finally, came the vows. Stewie had no interest in paying attention anymore. He just wanted this nonsense to be over with so he could go home and go to his room to work on some invention or was no point dwelling on this any longer. It was done. Brian was his stepfather, now. That sick feeling he had the evening he'd first learned about Lois and Brian's decision was returning. He'd have to stop by the bathroom after the ceremony.
He tried to ignore the proceedings, but he was still able to tell when the vows were done and when the two of them had exchanged rings. Things were wrapping up, now. He'd be able to leave soon.
"Lois and Brian, having witnessed the vows of your love for one another, it is my joy to present you to all gathered here as husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
At this, Stewie felt his head lifting up against his will as he watched the two seal their unholy union with a kiss. The music started up, and the two of them proceeded down the aisle hand-in-hand as they made their way out of the church. As soon as he was able to, Stewie leapt up from his seat and made haste for the nearest restroom, barely able to hold the bile down that was rising in his throat.
After the wedding, everyone left the church and met up again at McBurgertown.
...McBurgertown…
It was about as cheap and trashy as you could get, all these well-dressed individuals scattered about a D-grade, fast food eating establishment. Of course, Stewie understood that money was tight, and it was probably Brian that had to foot the bill for pretty much everything, but surely, this wasn't the dog's first choice. No, this is what happened when you rushed a marriage and when the bride really didn't give a damn.
The child was currently seated at the head of a booth in a high chair, a sort of kid's meal sitting in front of him, a kid's meal he was refusing to indulge in since he was dressed far too nicely to be getting his hands all greasy. Right across from him was the rest of his pathetic family, Lois and Brian sitting together to the left and his brother and sister to the right. He leaned back and folded his arms, a scowl etched on his face, unable to get up and leave like he desperately desired. Occasionally, Brian would look off in his direction and frown. As per usual, it was he who was the only one to pick up on the baby's actual mood.
It was his own little pocket of misery, though, as everyone else seemed to be having at least a decent time. There were greasy smiles and occasional laughter all throughout the restaurant. Brian gave a little speech about how grateful he was to have everyone there celebrating the "best day of my life". The child rolled his eyes at that one, making sure the dog noticed.
Man, the rest of your life must have blown…
Right around the time everyone else was finishing their meal, Stewie decided he couldn't take it anymore, and swallowing his pride, started beating his tiny fists against the table of his high chair and pitching a fit, legs kicking as he started whining.
"Dammit! Get me out of this thing! I can't take it anymore! I need to get out of here!"
Unsurprisingly, the moment he started acting his age was the moment the others actually started to pay attention to him. His mother sighed.
"Oh, Stewie…"
But her displeasure was soon replaced with a fake smile aimed in his direction.
"What's the matter, my baby? Is someone getting cranky?"
The boy seethed.
"I'll fucking show you cranky, you skanky cow!"
The woman jumped back at the outburst, as if she actually understood him for once. It was at this point that Brian interjected and reached over to release the child from his plastic prison.
"It's ok, Lois. I'll take him out. He's probably just getting restless. Give him a little credit, though. He's been acting fine for the last several hours."
Lois responded with obnoxious enthusiasm.
"Well, that is true! He's been a very big boy today!"
She threw him another smile.
"Bite me."
Stewie spoke bluntly as Brian picked him up and began carrying him out of the restaurant. The child threw her the bird right before the dog passed through the door. He looked up at Brian.
"You don't have to carry me. I can walk for crying out loud."
The dog took a few more steps before sighing and setting the child down on his feet. They were in the middle of the parking lot. Brian must have been carrying him out to the car, so that's the direction Stewie continued to head, Brian following close behind him.
"What's your deal, Stewie?"
The infant spared him a brief glance back, never stopping.
"Doesn't matter. It's done."
They reached the car, and Stewie turned to lean his back against the vehicle, folding his arms once more, hoping the dog would just drop the issue and let him stew in peace. If only he could be so lucky.
"What? Me marrying Lois? We already talked about this. I thought everything was alright. Why are you being such a little bitch about this?"
At hearing this, Stewie shot a glare in the canine's direction.
"A bitch? Is that what you think of me, right now? You think I'm just being a bitch? Well, I'd rather be a bitch than a moron blinded by lust."
Stewie had expected Brian to get angry. Hell, he was kind of hoping that would happen, much easier to deal with. That's not what happened, though. In response, the dog just frowned before joining the baby in leaning against the car, head hanging dejectedly.
"Is that what you think of me?"
Stewie wasn't sure how to respond. Upon seeing the canine looking so forlorn, his heart began to ache a bit. He groaned and rubbed at his forehead.
Goddammit…
"I can't help it if that's how things seem to me."
The dog didn't respond for a while, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence before finally speaking.
"I wish...I wish I could prove to you that wasn't the case."
Another silence took hold before he continued.
"I wasn't lying when I said this was the best day of my life."
The infant scoffed.
"Oh, I don't doubt it."
The dog slid down the car and sat on the ground.
"It was still far from perfect, though."
Stewie did the same before finally turning to look at the dog, curious about that last statement.
"Oh, really?"
Brian turned to look at him.
"Really."
The child tilted his head. This genuinely surprised him.
"So...what would have made it perfect?"
A small smile appeared on the canine's lips as he reached back to scratch the back of his neck.
"Well…"
He shrugged.
"I would have really liked your support."
Stewie felt his mouth go dry.
"My...my support?"
Brian nodded.
"Well, yeah. I don't like seeing you upset, Stewie, especially over this, and you haven't exactly made any attempts to hide how you really feel about all of this today."
At hearing this, the boy couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He shook his head.
Why do you do this to me, dog?
"You should take it as a compliment."
The dog quirked his eyebrow.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
The boy looked down, feeling nervous all of a sudden.
"I wouldn't...I wouldn't feel so strongly about everything if I didn't...I didn't...care."
He felt heat rush to his face, and turned away from the canine in an attempt to hide it. It wasn't long before he felt a paw coming to rest on his shoulder.
"It's going to be ok, kid. I promise. Give it time. You'll see."
He could hear the dog standing back up and coming to stand at his side.
"Here."
The infant looked up to find Brian smiling down at him, paw extended in his direction.
"Let's go back inside. We'll be going home soon. Think you can hold it together for another half hour or so?"
Stewie had to actually think about this before nodding his head and accepting the canine's paw. Brian pulled him to his feet and led him back inside the restaurant. Before long, he was back in his high chair, and Brian had rejoined the others, picking up whatever conversation he had left off on as if nothing had happened. The only difference now being the frequent smiles he would make sure to direct towards his little buddy, and despite still feeling like this was all just a huge mistake, Stewie found that he couldn't help but smile back every time.
I want nothing more than to be proven wrong, Brian.
"Sweetie, are you wearing earmuffs?"
Stewie peered through crusty eyes into the thin sunlight filtering into the room, and that horrid woman who held him in her arms. She uncovered one of his ears and stared stupidly at the winter accessory as though it were a mysterious device the likes of which she'd never seen before.
"What do you think, you moron?" Stewie muttered, as she removed the item from his head, laughing.
"Such a silly boy!" she cooed nauseatingly. "You must have been playing some game, hmm? Were you pretending you were an Eskimo in the arctic?"
"Um, that's offensive: they're called Inuits," said Stewie, not that he really cared. "Just like your proper name is idiot."
"I bet you have such a great big imagination," Lois went on, happily unawares. She kissed her baby on the top of his head, paying no heed to his resultant expression of disgust.
"Sometimes I wonder about everything that's going on in that head," she chuckled, to his shock, as she carried him out of the room. Stewie crossed his arms tightly over his chest, face casting itself into a frown of subdued fury at her comment.
She deposited him on the floor of the living room. "Honey, I would've gotten you up early, but I thought you were already awake! I'm sorry you missed breakfast. I thought Brian would have brought you down, like he usually does. Oh, well, he must have been running late for work this morning. I'll go and heat you up some French toast sticks, okay?"
The two dumb lumps that he called his embarrassments for siblings were already in the living room, evidently having been up for some time. Stewie watched their glazed eyes, focused on the T.V., and wondered if he should initiate some kind of conversation. For the very immediate future, however, he chose to remain silent.
Interact with his family? Before he'd even had his coffee?
It was Saturday, meaning that come that evening, Brian and Lois would have been married one full week. It had been a rather mundane week, Stewie had to say.
There had been no honeymoon. No funds for one, really, which Stewie had heard the vile woman practically inform Brian. The lovestruck dog had quixotically argued that one could be possible, but Lois had shut him down. "How about, in place of the honeymoon," she suggested, ""we all take a nice family vacation this summer, after we've saved up some money."
With the wedding night being spent at the Griffin house...well, that's where the earmuffs came in.
When the fatman had been alive, Stewie had often been a hapless victim subjected to the sounds of he and Lois so-called "making love". That had been disturbing enough, but Stewie...he didn't think he could stand being forced to listen, now that it was Brian in there with Lois, instead.
The tyke had broken out the earmuffs the first night Brian could absolutely be expected to move from the bottom of the bed...to on top of Lois.
Stewie, admittedly, didn't know much about sexual congress. He knew that he hadn't at all liked walking in on or overhearing his parents. And he knew what Brian sometimes did to the couch. Presumably, that's what the canine had spent a really long time wanting to do with the middle-aged tart Stewie could unfortunately call his mother. It made the baby feel ill all over again, just like at the wedding, whenever he thought about it.
Well, of course. His mother was involved. It was normal to find it repugnant when one or the other or both of your parentals were...having the sex. He just couldn't determine why it was worse when Lois had someone other than Peter in her bed. The awkwardness should be lower, now that the objectionable activity was at least less one parent.
But, no. The problem was obvious. The problem wasn't that Lois had a new partner in her bed- the problem was it was Brian.
The boy felt positive he'd heard that you weren't supposed to like it when a friend was romantically involved with your relation, so he had to conclude that was the issue.
Stewie had been wearing the earmuffs every night since Brian became his stepfather. Despite that not being the use they were designed for, they must be working. He'd yet to hear a peep out of the newlyweds at night, thank god. And in the morning, when Brian came to get him up for the day, the dog didn't even say anything about them. Not anymore. The first time the dog had caught him in them, Stewie had made up some bull crap about reading a study which said that keeping one's ears warm at night was good for the brain.
"It's an experiment," the baby lied. "It's worth trying anything to preserve the ole money maker, isn't it? Not that all the rest of it," he added, gesturing to his face and body, "couldn't be worth a mint."
"Uh, okay," was all the canine had said in response, the most he'd said on the subject since. Every subsequent morning, he'd either rolled his eyes or not acknowledged the earmuffs at all.
"Here you go, sweetie," Lois chirruped annoyingly, like the bird singing outside your window that you wanted to kill. She'd reentered the room and handed her youngest child a plate bearing two toaster-cooked French toast sticks. "Enjoy. Mommy will just be in the kitchen, cleaning."
"Hey, hey, I don't need your life story," Stewie grumbled, crabbing at her. What was this woman's deal? "Thanks for the news report, how about the weather?" But Lois had already turned her back and was retreating to the kitchen.
"Your gourmet food section leaves a little something to be desired!" he hollered after her, examining a rubbery-in-the-middle, burnt-around-the-edges stick and throwing it at the wall.
It bounced back and landed a good two feet away from the wall.
"Yay, bouncy breakfast!" Chris enthused, jumping up and hurrying over to the French toast stick his baby brother had cast away. "That bounced almost as well as the scrambled eggs from earlier." He started nibbling on Stewie's discarded food.
The infant made a noise of impatient disgust. "Please, Chris, you're not an animal." He frowned. "If Stepdoggy were here, he could play go fetch the stick."
Chris crouched like a raccoon over the findings he was still picking at. "Brian was in a bad mood this morning. I don't think he would've wanted to play with us."
This piqued the younger Griffin boy's interest, his eyebrows rising up his forehead. "Really? Why do you say that? How was he acting?"
The tubby blond finished his French toast stick and returned to the couch. "Just really crabby. He was in a big rush. Said he overslept."
"Oh." Relations with Lois must be tiring him out. He must have been up half the night… Stewie frantically shoved a large bite of the remaining stick into his mouth, just so he'd have some starch in his stomach to help with the nausea.
Meg inserted herself into the conversation with, "Yeah, Brian was a tool this morning. 'Whatever happened to kids sleeping in on Saturday morning?'" In an evident effort to imitate Brian, she pitched her voice lower, making her voice manly to match her appearance. "'What are you two up for, to be a nuisance? Does everyone in this house have to be so damn difficult? Well, I'm not fixing you breakfast. Bad enough I have to work today.' And then he said something about capitalism and Hummers and he could at least get the good kind of Hummer."
Stewie blinked at his sister. "The dog said all that? Wow, I didn't think Mr. Self Righteous was capable of finding fault with the universe anymore. I would've thought the rose colored glasses would still be firmly in place, only one week after marrying his love." His voice dripped with acid on the endearment.
"I'm nervous to tell him he's supposed to go to Parent-Teacher Night next week!" Chris confided. "What if he goes full Cujo on us?" The dimbulb teen cringed in fear.
Chris was too ridiculous "No, Brian's not like that." Stewie felt compelled to defend him. "And he's not our parent, either, so for god's sake, make Lois go. Layabout bitch."
"Brian's the only daddy we got now!" Chris argued. "We need a daddy!"
The baby clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly in genuine annoyance. Yes, it was a fact now that Brian was their stepfather, but that didn't mean that anybody had to actually treat him like a parent. He wasn't. How could Meg and Chris ever see him as such? Stewie sure wouldn't. It didn't make any sense! Wanting to hump Lois and pay back the family who had kept him in Alpo for so many years did not a father make.
"I may be a son of a bitch, Chris," the infant objected, "but Brian is and never will be my daddy." He shuddered. "Besides, what do any of us really need a father for, I ask you? Meg's masculine enough without a male role model. You apparently had enough to absorb enough of the fatman's qualities that you're already made in some man's image. And I...well, I was probably always going to come across as someone who'd been raised by his grandmother, no matter what the reality of the situation was."
The youngest Griffin wasn't sure if Meg had been paying attention to or understood anything that had come out of his mouth, but it seemed close enough to a reply when she said,
"Well, at least Mom's been able to find another husband quickly so she won't be lonely." Her face took on an envious expression. "Lucky slut. Some of us can't even find one man."
"Well, I'm sure she's relieved to have found another sucker to take care of her," said Stewie. "As well as to foist her no doubt twisted desires upon. But, I don't know...does she really seem...happy? Not that I want to see her happy, heaven forfend, but, I mean, she should be at least a little cheered, right, about the fact that she's upgraded to a husband that isn't braindead? She should appreciate that this husband has some class and intelligence."
"I don't know about happy," Chris responded, "but she does seem weirder."
This assessment took his infant brother by surprise and puzzled him. "Weirder? What do you mean?"
"Well, when Meg and I got home from school a couple days ago," Chris explained, "Mom was getting a delivery. It looked like something big, but she wouldn't let us see it, and made us go play in the backyard until the delivery man left."
"Oh, are you telling Stewie about Mom's super secret delivery?" Meg chimed in. She looked at her baby brother and started talking to him in the syrup voice people often used on young children. "You were at preschool at the time." Fortunately, she didn't go on talking in that sickening and insulting tone, instead shaking her head and looking back over at Chris, before speaking normally. "You've really been talking to him a lot. How do you do that? We really need to find you some friends, Chris. But yeah, that was weird. And how about the fact that she keeps her bedroom door locked at all times now? Whatever she had delivered must be in there."
Leaving aside the fact that his cloddish sister saw fit to be dismissive toward him, Stewie thought instead of this news he'd just received about Lois. What was that vile woman up to?
"She's still locking it?" asked Chris, to which Meg nodded.
"I've been checking every day since I tried to go in there to borrow her perfume, and yep. It's locked all the time now."
This was certainly intriguing, and Stewie filed the information away for future investigation. He tried to guess what his harpy mother could be hiding, and was disturbed to think that it could have something to do with her and Brian's...ewwww, sex life. The timing would seem to coincide. He'd heard of perverts, though he had no idea what they did. He knew that the fatman's friend Quagmire had been one, and the baby reflected that it was a pity that the man whore pilot had gone along on Peter's trip. If only he had survived to marry Lois! Stewie decided right then and there that she was probably more on a level with that dead Q-tip shaped pervert than with Brian.
So there was the danger of stumbling upon a chamber of sexual depravity, but also, what if Lois was concealing something in there which was part of a plot against the whole family? What if it were up to Stewie to save them all? It seemed entirely possible to the suspicious tyke. Maybe losing the status quo when she lost Peter had caused her to become unhinged. And then she'd married the dog, and...well, that was either out of desperation, or out of some sadistic desire to destroy his life the way hers had been destroyed. Of course she wouldn't know how to deal with a husband who wasn't retarded! Or….! Maybe she could deal, all too easily, and that was part of her game! Brian was so lovesick for her, she thought she could convince him to do all of her bidding!
Yes, Lois could very well have some evil plan afoot. It was either designed to take down Brian or take down all of them, but one thing was for sure. No fucking way was Stewie going to let her succeed!
His commitment to the goal of stopping her was so strong that he took a risk and, that night, dared to sleep without his earmuffs, in case there was any vital information to overhear.
He overheard nothing that night. No "making whoopie" sounds. No sounds of anybody on a medieval torture rack or any other kind of torture device. No arguments in which Lois threatened Brian and demanded he do as he was told. No Lois sneaking out for a clandestine meeting with the criminals who were helping her with her despicable plan. No shady conversations. Nothing. Crickets.
Nor did he hear anything the next night, or the next, or the next. And gradually, Stewie began to let down his guard. He still told himself that he'd try to find out what Lois had hidden away in that bedroom, but he slept a little easier at night. It was all quiet on the domestic front.
For that, the boy was grateful, but he had yet to feel that all was well.
Lois plotting against them all may or may not be happening, but even if she wasn't, Stewie couldn't shake the feeling that something about their lives on Spooner Street had become very, very wrong.