Chapter 8: Revelations and Reconciliation
"Hey. there, how'd you like to take a ride with me, pretty little thing?" The dog on the motorcycle revved the engine and raked a hand through his greased-up pompadour.
Stewie demurred, taking a timid step back. "I don't know if I dare! You have the most awful reputation!"
Brian grinned toothily like this pleased him immensely. "It's well deserved, baby. Why, I'm the kinda guy who stays out all night drinking at rough 'n tumble bars."
Stewie shivered. "My! Did I just feel a breeze up my skirt?"
Brian extended a paw, still smiling cockily. "C'mon. You know you want to. No matter how wrong it may be."
Next thing Stewie knew, he was being pulled up off his feet and was riding behind Brian, his hands clutching the dog about the waist. He could smell the leather of Brian's jacket, and felt a strong rumbling beneath his seat.
Soon, though, their ride through a strange backdrop of white puffy clouds, rainbows, and hearts, came to a stop.
"I know where we are!" Stewie announced, smoothing his high blond ponytail and looking around. "We're at the park."
"Are we?" asked Brian, leaning in, with a look that was an infuriating mix of mocking and sexy, and it made Stewie gulp.
"Why, of course we are, you imbecile, I think I recognize the park!"
"I thought we were in someplace far more...magical."
And just then, before Stewie had time to do more than exclaim a high-pitched, "Oh!", that greaser dog captured his lips in an intense kiss.
"Oh, my…" the boy murmured when they broke apart. One of Brian's paws caressed Stewie's cheek…
...while the other slipped beneath his skirt. Stewie's hips jerked and the child gasped.
"Why is this happening?" Stewie panted, moving against that sinful paw while it inflicted such delicious torment on him. "Why does it feel so good? Mmm! Brian…!"
"It's okay," came that silky baritone he knew so well. "You don't have to worry when you're with me. Just enjoy yourself. When have I ever let you down?"
"Well, I'm sure I can think of a time or two…" Just now, though, it was tough to think at all. He looked back up into Brian's eyes, and they didn't have that confident but intimidating sheen that had drawn Stewie onto the back of the motorbike. They were gentle and caring, and Stewie leaned trustingly against his biker dog.
"I just want to take care of you…" Brian whispered into Stewie's ear before licking it.
The baby shivered and clutched the canine's jacket with desperation. One of his little hands, though, then began to wander, traveling down to seek Brian's desire. The dog's words caused him to feel happy, caused him to feel bold, caused him to feel like making Brian feel good, too. He panted out words to that effect.
"Wanna make you feel...good...Brian…"
The dog affectionately licked along the boy's cheek. "You do make me feel good, Stewie. You're my best friend."
Stewie felt warm all over, including in his heart. It felt nice to know that he was cared for so much, to be sure. But as he thought about it...or rather, as he tried not to think about it, because this was the one thought that came with ease, when all he really wanted to do was let himself go, give himself to this purely physical, animalistic pleasure…
Suddenly, there was a very persistent idea in his head that demanded to be vented.
"But I want to be your special someone, Brian!" He bucked harder against the dog's paw than he had before, as his own hand groped for evidence of the dog's need for him. "I like being your friend, but surely, that's not all there is, if- if…." He trailed off, almost crying from physical pleasure and emotional confusion.
"You're special, Stewie," said Brian's voice reassuringly, but it sounded like it was coming from far away. When the child looked up, expecting to see his lover's face there, instead he saw only darkness. He realized he wasn't even leaning against a solid body anymore, although he still, mercifully, felt the hand that worked him so expertly, It continued to wring from Stewie every ounce of pleasure his little body was capable of, but already, even as he neared release, Stewie felt like this would only leave him with fear and confusion.
"Brian? Why can't I see you anymore? I-I-I need you! Want you so bad!"
The darkness filled in around him as he peaked, and awoke with a release of spams and tingles...and a nonsensical, fearful outburst,
"I need more! I'm a good girl, like Sandy, and I need more!"
He felt himself blush as soon as he heard himself, and he laid there, breathing heavily and embarrassed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, hands balled up in the sheets.
"Well, what the devil was that?!"
Of course, the dark gave him no answer. It was just as enigmatic as in the dream. That dream… He'd never had one like it before. Well, on the surface, that wasn't entirely factual. Ever since Stepdoggy had suggested they watch Grease that one night, he'd had his greaser mutt dream about Brian maybe three or four times before. But they'd just been quick and dirty, without the presence of doubt or guilt or ''needing more'', whatever the hell that meant.
He'd always been just fancy free and horny in his dreams. The...feelings came afterward. The guilt of somehow...defiling his relationship with Brian by having these sordid dreams about him. A different kind of guilt that he didn't understand, just about fantasizing about a male. The confusion about the larger implications of that. Was he gay? What if his peculiar but all-consuming attraction started affecting how he was around Brian in real life? And, last but not least…
Just why was he, Stewie, always the girl in these dreams, anyway?
Stewie thrashed about in his sheets, crying, "Damnation!" He had a curious, scientific mind that demanded answers! And he had the brilliance to accumulate knowledge about anything! Nothing should have him this stymied!
The experiment with the rubber band had proven a spectacular disaster. He'd tried it out as a potential cure for his prematurely awakened sexual desires, and that had only ended up exacerbating the problem. And creating a new one. Snapping that wretched band made him harder faster, so…. Well. He was still becoming aroused by Brian, and now, he was some kind of freak who got a jolly off of pain, to boot!
Stewie looked down at the foot of his crib, where Rupert appeared to be asleep. He was glad the bear wasn't awake to witness his shame. Oh, Rupert would have a field day with this!
The baby lay back down, and, speaking quietly so as not to wake his teddy bear, he began to innumerate his problems.
"I'm attracted to Brian. Who is a guy. And my best friend and stepdoggy. And when I dream that we're Danny and Sandy, I'm always Sandy. And when I wear a rubberband around my wrist and snap it, it turns me on. And...and…"
The epiphany hit him all at once, so he spoke it out loud while he worked it out for himself:
"Brian was...acting lovingly toward me. I-I think...I think I wanted him to tell me he loved me."
Stewie squirmed involuntarily, it was so horrible. Why would he have wanted such a bizarre thing? He'd always been able to take or leave- okay, mostly leave- proclamations of affection. What would Brian's have added to the scenario? Did he want to feel like he had power over Brian? The child's brow furrowed. Funny how, in his dreams, he never once had the upper hand over Brian.
He continued to lie there, mind simply running in circles. He sighed, realizing the futility in his musings before finally rolling over onto his side. It was a long time before he was able to find sleep again. And when he did, it was fitful to say the least.
The child opened his eyes, awakening from another overwhelming and confusing dream. The room was a little brighter now. He looked out his window to see the first rays of morning sunlight barely peeking out over the horizon. He couldn't hear anyone else up, so he concluded that he had been the first to wake up. He also concluded that there was simply no point in trying to get back to sleep as someone would surely be in to get him up and ready for the day shortly.
The baby yawned and rubbed at his eyes before sitting up and stretching. He looked down at Rupert who was still asleep. Deciding not to wake the bear, the infant carefully climbed out of his crib before slowly making his way over to the closet. It wasn't often that he was up before everyone else. Usually, he'd have assistance in preparing for the day, but in the rare instances where he was up first, he'd been able to quickly learn to handle all his daily preparations himself. Not that anyone ever noticed. The dimwits…
It took him hardly any time at all to get changed out of his pajamas and into his regular shirt and overalls, and once he was satisfied with his attire, he exited his room and made his way toward the bathroom. As he walked down the hall, he commented to himself.
"I must be up quite early. I don't hear anyone."
He shrugged as he entered the bathroom. The boy pulled up a little stool next to the sink and used it to climb up onto the counter where he retrieved his toothbrush. He proceeded to brush his teeth, mouthwash and floss and all. Someone in this wretched family had to give a damn about hygiene, after all. He smiled in the mirror, admiring his pearly whites before nodding in approval and hopping down, returning the stool to its place against the wall before heading downstairs and taking a seat on the couch. He'd have to wait for someone to come down and cook breakfast.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and turned to see Brian all dressed up in his work clothes, the usual tie and fedora. He smiled.
God, he looks good…
The dog stopped in his tracks, seemingly surprised to see Stewie there on the couch. The baby glanced away so as not to be caught staring. He looked back at his stepdoggy, however, when Brian said,
"You're up early, Kid. Did you sleep okay?"
Damn it, it's like he knows! Well, it turned out Stewie couldn't look at one thing for long, and could only hope Brian didn't notice how queer he was acting. The infant looked down at his shoes and fought a blush.
"Perfectly so, I thank you," he fibbed. "I merely am performing an experiment to see if that expression about being 'early to rise' has any merit in it, and might improve my general quality of life and make me even more amazing." He put on his old cocky grin. "I always want to be functioning at optimal levels, Bry. Even though my mediocre exceeds anybody else's outstanding. Or were you wondering 'However did the super genius manage to perform the basic task of pulling his trousers on himself and making it downstairs?'" For that last part, he attempted a Brian voice, and feared he failed miserably. The baby cringed a bit.
"And your diaper. Don't forget your diaper," Brian responded flatly. "And yeesh. There's confidence, Kid, and then there's just plain arrogance. If this latest little experiment of yours is making you more obnoxious than usual, please give it a break and sleep in every day, will ya?" He grinned sarcastically, and while Stewie was slightly offended, it also occurred to him that probably nothing in the world was as dreamy as his stepdoggy's smiles.
"Whatever. Are you making breakfast today?" The child jumped down off the couch, and he and Brian started walking into the kitchen.
"I guess I may as well. I'm up before Lois."
"That's been pretty much par for the course in recent months, hasn't it?" Stewie observed, getting himself situated, unaided, in his highchair.
"Well, I am the one who has to get up for work," said Brian nonchalantly, as he pushed a chair over to the counter in order to gain access to the food cupboards.
Stewie watched him root through the various boxes of foodstuffs. Maybe, just maybe, he turned his head just slightly at an angle and ogled the dog's caboose and that adorable little tail.
"Yes, but isn't making breakfast part of her job description?"
There was a pause that went on for just a little too long.
"That's sexist, Stewie." Brian turned around on the chair and held up a box of oatmeal. "This okay again?"
The baby pulled a face. "Uuggghh...I'd prefer not. It's so lumpy and unappetizing. Where does Lois find this stuff? And gray. It's also gray. I've got enough gray matter of my own."
Brian snorted. "Remember how I was talking to you about that arrogance, Stewie?"
"I do, but so bloody hell what?" Stewie asked cheerfully, swinging his feet. "I'm not going to blindly take all of your advice just because you're my stepdoggy."
Brian alighted from the chair and shrugged his furry shoulders. "That's alright. Nobody else in this house respects what I've got to say. Why should you?"
He didn't say it in a tone that begged for sympathy. But even though Brian resisted using a woebegotten voice, Stewie sensed enough to withhold a riposte of any kind. He watched the canine go get some ingredients out of the fridge. The hapless family man preparing to make the household a hearty breakfast.
Pitiful… But it wasn't thought with much, if any, disdain.
"At least…" the baby had spoken without meaning to, and once he caught himself with his lips moving, didn't really know where he was going with the whole thing.
"Brian, you know I respect you more than I do anyone else under this godforsaken roof." He said the words very quickly, with careful lightness in his voice, but he hoped the dog knew the weight that they carried. Even if the other members of the Griffin familyhad set a low bar for respect…
"And," Stewie went on, returning fully to joking mode, "you cater to me better than anyone in the house, too. So that's gotta count for something." He grinned smugly.
The dog barked out a laugh and set to work on a batch of pancakes.
"I wasn't exactly setting out to be your lap dog."
The child flushed, but responded with a smirk.
"Oh, come on. You should be honored I would even want you as my lap dog."
The canine simply shook his head as he began stirring some pancake batter.
"Whatever you say, Stewie. Whatever you say."
And that was that. The two continued to enjoy each other's company in a comfortable silence as Brian cooked the family breakfast. As he was finishing up, Lois and the kids finally made their way down into the kitchen. Pancakes were dispersed, and it was a surprisingly low-key meal. Well, low-key for the Griffins. Meg and Chris still did their usual bickering, and Lois basically ignored Brian, not that he was saying much to her anyway, much to Stewie's approval. Breakfast came and went. Chris and Meg went back upstairs, and Lois went to watch some early morning television. Brian finished up cleaning the kitchen and, then, helped Stewie out of his highchair.
"Alright, Kid. You all set for preschool?"
The infant nodded.
"Yeah. I just need to grab my bag. It won't take long."
Brian waited as Stewie made his quick trip upstairs and back, and without another word to the woman on the couch, the two of them exited the house together.
Half the day was already gone. It would only be a few more hours before it was time to leave, and right now, it was free-play time, a time for all the little preschoolers to amuse themselves with the various items and toys that were made available to them in the classroom. Stewie was off in his own little corner with some dolls and a box of Mega Bloks. He was attempting to construct a fortress, but finding the various pieces he needed was proving more difficult than he liked. Still, what he had managed to construct was quite impressive...well, for any normal child of his age. He could have put this structure together in his sleep, honestly. He had successfully constructed two walls just over his own height, with the help of a nearby chair. The front wall even had a door that kind of worked, just had to be careful when using it to keep the walls from falling apart because fuck Mega Bloks.
Blasted things come apart too easily…
Despite the frustrations, the child pressed on, using this latest task as a way of keeping
his mind occupied. All day he had been mulling over thoughts of Brian, and how that damn dog made him feel. The whole lusting after Brian thing was still an issue, but in a way, he had kind of gotten used to that alone, even if it was extremely difficult to act normally around that...dreamboat sometimes. At the very least, Stewie had a good grasp on those feelings. He had the hots for Brian. That part was simple, nothing he could really do about that. People liked what they liked, after all. But, there was still something more going on that seemed to evade him no matter how long or hard he focused on the matter. The wanting and simple longing for stepdoggy were simply the surface of a larger and deeper pool of entangled and mixed emotions that he was beginning to fear were simply too complex for even his big brain. A thought he originally scoffed at because nothing should be too complex for him, dammit!
The infant slammed a block into place hard enough that the wall he was currently working on wobbled. His heart stopped briefly as he waited to see if it would fall. When it didn't, he mentally facepalmed at his own carelessness. His distraction was beginning to fail him. He just couldn't stop thinking about that mutt! He imagined Brian smirking at him with that smug grin, and then, thought about how much he would love to slap it right off.
Whoa! Hold the phone, now! What?
He took a breath, trying to sooth the unwarranted anger. It wasn't like Brian had gone and seduced him. This wasn't the dog's fault, no matter how much Stewie wanted something or someone to blame. And, besides, Brian was his friend. The odds had been stacked against him initially, but in time, Brian, out of all people, had somehow found a way to find a place in his heart. He cared for Brian, and he knew Brian cared for him, as well.
He felt a strange, almost unpleasant feeling at that thought. Almost like his stomach had done a flip in his tummy. It made him a little light-headed, so he sat down, abandoning his fortress, for now.
What am I missing here?
"Oh, isn't that cute!" The syrupy voice of his preschool teacher broke into his thoughts, and the baby turned to see what insipid thing she was cooing over.
"Look at you two, playing so nicely together! You're quite a pair."
What the teacher was apparently losing her pinheaded mind over was the sight of two of Stewie's classmates, in the process of playing house or some similar form of make believe. They were using the playhouse in the classroom, with the little girl setting up a little silver tea set on the plastic sideboard. The little boy with whom she was playing took a pretend sip of tea and chewed for real on a toy cookie.
"We're playing Mommy and Daddy!" beamed the little girl. Stewie thought her name was Roxie or Trixie or some other name that would lend itself well to a future stripper.
"Awwwww!" squealed their teacher, coming near the two that were playing house. She playfully tapped Roxie/Trixie on the nose. "Does someone have a little crush?"
The little girl came around from where she was serving up her bogus tea and biscuits, and hugged onto her companion's arm tightly while still wearing a big smile. Johnny or Tommy or whatever nondescript name he had still had the plastic snack in his mouth like a dummy. Drool dripped out of his mouth and he didn't seem to understand what was being said, but his expression vaguely suggested that he wasn't totally on board with it.
"We're going to get married!" exclaimed the little girl, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, while the teacher clasped her hands together and leaned down to say something else to the two.
After that, Stewie couldn't have said what happened, because it was like the whole room fell away from him. He found himself completely and utterly spiralling into a memory, spurred on by that word: "married".Married...married...married… It echoed through his mind, and suddenly, he was vividly picturing himself and Brian, at the wedding rehearsal, at the altar, Stewie teasing the groom-to-be and trying to cheer him up. And wanting, out of nowhere, to kiss him. Almost following through. Stewie all at once felt again what he'd experienced on that day. That moment of sheer wanting, that he'd justified as wanting to play a joke, or even wanting to satisfy a curiosity. Now, though, he thought he could call it by its proper name, this heart-hammering, tugging, hankering feeling in his chest. It wasn't what he thought before. It wasn't even common lust.
"Oh… Fuck."
"So, then , Paddy makes me stay over almost half an hour with this stubborn customer who was obviously going to buy but kept trying to come up with excuses not to! That's why I was late. Sorry you had to wait around, Stewie, but it's really been...one hell of a day…"
The infant simply nodded his head, unsure of what to say after Brian finally finished venting out his anger over the crappy day he'd had at work. Stewie couldn't care less about Brian being late. He'd barely even noticed, anyway. His mind had been too preoccupied. It was still preoccupied, which was why he was uncharacteristically finding it hard to get words out of his mouth even though he did want to say something reassuring to the canine. It really did seem like he'd had a trying time, but he...couldn't. He just couldn't say anything. Not now.
A fact which, so far, hadn't seemed to arouse Brian's suspicion or even curiosity yet, though just before the canine switched on the radio, Stewie thought he saw him look over briefly as though awaiting a response. The child nervously glanced away. Music filled the little car- some tune Stewie didn't know, but it sounded suitably jazzy and old-fashioned to fit Brian's tastes. Sometimes, the boy wondered how his stepdoggy managed to find these stations.
Brian was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in a way that seemed a little more aggressive than jaunty. They were about halfway to home by now, and the day had clearly had its share of hardship for the both of them.
For Stewie, it had come in the form of a totally uncomfortable truth that had him, for once, counting the seconds until he was back at that house of buffoons, where he could take shelter in the privacy of his room.
He'd thought it was bad enough before, when he didn't want to spend time with Brian because it was hard to like Brian when Brian was marrying Stewie's mortal enemy. But no, it was worse when Stewie had realized that he liked the canine a little too much…
"You're awfully quiet over there."
The infant jumped at the sound of his stepdoggy's voice.
"They give you too much food for thought to chew over at preschool?" Brian laughed.
Stewie forced himself to look at Brian. Forced himself to laugh in return.
"Ha! No...no. It's nothing to do with that pathetic little school, but you know...I'm always thinking about something!" He laughed again. They were only a couple blocks away from home now.
Good, good.
"Time machines on the brain and whatnot?" Brian asked him jokingly, though, Stewie decided that was just as good an explanation as any.
"Actually… Yes! That is exactly right, my good man! Well played, Dog! Haha!"
He knew that grin on his face was much too big and that laugh he'd yelped out was much too hearty, but maybe Brian wouldn't press the issue...maybe.
The canine looked at him with slightly widened eyes before blinking a few times, unsurprisingly noticing that Stewie's behavior was a bit off.
"Um...oookay. Listen, I'm not going to ask what kind of maniacal plot you're up to, but just try not to get too carried away." They were pulling into the driveway. "Or as your stepfather, I'll be forced to intervene." Brian cut the car off and reached over to unbuckle Stewie's safety seat.
"I assure you, there's no need to involve yourself." The baby felt his face heat as Brian's paws hovered dangerously near his crotch while working to undo the buckle. "Or with this, either." He put his hands over Brian's, intending to bat them away, but ending up just resting his own hands atop Brian's paws. "Really, you take too much upon yourself, Dog. I don't require this level of assistance, as you're well aware."
Brian looked at the boy and rolled his eyes in response, flicking off Stewie's hands carelessly and proceeding to make- mercifully- quick work of freeing the boy from his car seat. "Yes, I'm aware. So you don't have to make such a big deal out of it, do you? What are you trying to prove?"
Stewie hesitated, but didn't respond, opting instead to open the car door and jump on out, heading toward the front door of the house with Brian following in his wake.
Lois was the first one they saw when they came through the door. She was lounging on the couch, eating out of a bowl of potato chips and watchingOprah .
Stewie took in the pitiful sight before him and had to snort.
"You've got nothing going on," he muttered, and pattered past her, heading for the staircase that would take him up to his room, where he could, at least temporarily, lock himself away from everything.
"Next up," Oprah was saying on the T.V., "why women need to take control of their sex lives, and what can happen when they don't." The audience applauded, and Lois let out a noise that was startlingly close to a growl of displeasure. Stewie couldn't help but look back at her, which he did just in time to see her throw a potato chip at the screen, and see Brian approach her with an uncertain kind of chuckle.
"H-hey, are those barbeque? Can I get in on that?"
Whether or not Brian ended up getting any from Lois, Stewie couldn't have said, because he continued swiftly on up to his room, thinking about how much he'd love to barricade himself inside for approximately the rest of his life.
When he reached his sanctuary, he shut the door tightly behind him and at first, simply stood inside, feeling the air kind of depressurize around him as he, for the first time in too many hours, was left alone without interfering people crowding his airwaves. Too shell-shocked to even decide right away what he wanted to do now that he was "safe", Stewie was just still for a minute, taking several deep breaths.
The baby looked around his room as he gradually came back to himself. Now then. What was there to be done?
No reason to treat this as if it weren't a normal day…
Stewie went to get some toys out, and it wasn't even until he had the set of family dolls laid out on the floor before him that he questioned his choice in playthings.
Picking up the doll he used for Secret Agent Greg, he unenthusiastically made it walk across the floor, knowing he meant to distract himself with playtime once again, but not knowing what exactly he wanted to have the toys do today.
"Uh, ok. Hmmm. When last we left Secret Agent Whatshisface, he'd just been captured by the evil leader of the Globablahblah who was in the process of stealing the world's water supply or some other stupid Saturday morning cartoon schtick."
He grunted, simply going through the motions of playing his game as his mind continued to wander to other matters.
Think, Stewie. There must be something you've overlooked. Why does Brian have your brilliant mind in such a muddle? A little crush shouldn't cause such a calamity, should it? Why, it's like you can't even function. Maybe, if you go back to the beginning, reexamining events from the time things around here turned strange..er, than normal...you can pinpoint not only why you're going through some ungodly version of early puberty, but why it's making it impossible to control your emotional state as well as creating...physical side effects.
The child glanced down at his groin, as if daring the wayward dictator to start stirring at the mere thought of all that sex stuff.
Okay. So…
He cast his memory back to when Lois and Brian made their fateful announcement in the living room. He easily recalled the outrage he had felt at the time. Although he'd since gotten more used to the new arrangement out of necessity, it was somewhat incredible how fresh that anger was if he chose to focus on it. Stewie was quite accustomed to being angered by quite a few things, but he didn't like reliving his fury when it came to that event.
His hand closed tightly around the figurine that served as his super villain extraordinaire character, and he made the Globatech head yell at Secret Agent Greg.
"Did you really think you'd get away with it? Intruding upon my private compound, trying to disrupt the plans I've so carefully laid, and keep me from taking possession of what I so clearly deserve?!"
"Uh...listen…" Stewie had Greg flounder trying to come up with a defense. "Can't we discuss this rationally? Mr, Globa- um...let's see, what is your name? Bob. Yeah, why not? Can I call you Bob?"
Stewie squinted at his toys in dissatisfaction. Where the hell was he even going with this? His mind once again ventured toward thoughts of his early anger at Lois and Brian. Who had he been more furious at? Well, that pile of red hair atop a mound of human refuge, certainly. He was always justifiably angry at her for something. And of course, it stood to reason that, if he regularly got mad at the two-bit trollop for not being able to do anything right, he'd be upset that she didn't even know how a widow was supposed to behave, either.
...Didn't it?
His father's face sprang to mind in the first time in forever. Stewie chewed on his lip as he mulled that over. Remembering the fat man didn't make him feel sad or happy or...anything. And now that the fat man was now the dead man, and no longer plunging the household into mass involuntary participation in his crazy schemes, Stewie didn't really feel any annoyance toward him, either. So...progress? Did that make him more like a normal person? He remembered Brian being a massive hypocritical tool and shaming him on his lack of proper sentiment. Well, it wasn't like Stewie was now mourning his father more than he ever had…
Why had he cared? For real. Was it bad mothering on Lois's part, to foist a stepfather on them so soon after Daddy bit the big one? Most certainly. And…? Again, he was used to Lois doing everything wrong. So what if it was the principal of the thing? If she was going to bring a new parent into the equation, she could've done far worse than Brian, after all, who was caring and capable…
But caring, capable Brian, Stewie reminded himself before he lost himself in useless schoolyard daydreams, did basically betray his best friend. Maybe I...maybe I expected more from Brian, and it hurt to find out that he was doing such a shameful thing…
That felt closer to the truth, but still not like it fully explained away his anger. So what else had happened between the day of the engagement and now? Obviously, there was the day of the wedding rehearsal… Stewie shivered. He'd spared enough thought on that today already, surely.
"I suppose that's only fair, since I call you Greg and all," he made Bob say, turning back to his toys again. "And we have been through so much together. Though you have turned down all of my pool party invitations, I suppose dicking around my private business counts for something. Before I give you what you have coming to you, let me tour you around Globatech headquarters. I'd like to show you my latest invention." He laughed maniacally in the evil Bob's voice.
Stewie hastily grabbed the dollhouse from where it was a short distance over to the side. The two dolls walked over inside, Bob of Globablahblah leading the way. Stewie needed something to stand in for the evil genius's water-capturing machine, so he grabbed a plastic bucket he sometimes used in the sandbox.
He wasn't really invested in his time in the land of make believe right now, but was doing his best to commit to the scenario. He really didn't want to think about that damned rehearsal again, the critical mistake he had made there…
"Here it is, just down this flight of stairs," said Bob expansively, ushering Secret Agent Greg over to the set of steps that descended to where the bucket was waiting. He walked down ahead of Greg, and, when he got to the bottom, waited there for Greg to catch up.
Greg tripped near the bottom, and stumbled down the last step, bumping into the formidable head of Globatech, and, well...bumping his lips into Bob's lips.
"Oh, dear…"
He shifted uncomfortably at the sudden turn he'd taken with this scene.
"Is this what the young people call...HoYay?"
He dropped the dolls as if they were toxic. Even his innocent playtime wasn't safe from his prurient thoughts, it seemed. He told himself he was blocking the rehearsal out of his mind, and made himself concentrate on the next road marker of Lois and Brian's Crazy Ride to Marital Bliss.
Unfortunately, that next road marker was the wedding itself. There, he'd been subject to more disgraceful behavior from his skanky cow of a mother, including not even having the decency to pull herself together as best as she could for her own wedding. And yet, Brian had still been all too eager to go through with the spectacle, to kiss her lips and make her his wife.
Just like the old anger could come through again sharply, it turned out Stewie could also remember just how sickened he'd felt during the wedding ceremony. He clutched his stomach. It was like recalling a particularly pernicious battle with the flu. But he hadn't just felt nauseated, no. He'd felt...defeated.
Why should that be the word to spring to mind? Stewie mulled this over, wanting an answer and coming up with a blank that must be as terrifying and all-encompassing as what Chris saw when he was asked to do basic addition. If anyone were to walk into the room right now, Stewie had no doubt they'd find that he had a completely brain-dead expression on his face as he attempted to sort this problem out.
The indignity of this spurred his mental gears to work harder. No! It's not that there's nothing here! You should know better than that, halfwit! He scolded himself. It's that there's too much, and you don't want to see it! How are you going to put it all together if you refuse to see some of the pieces?
This must be… This must be what people called being on the cusps of an epiphany. Stewie groaned. One epiphany a day is enough...
But that one about having a crush seemed like just a little epiphany compared with what was looming. Actually, even just realizing that there was something in his mind he was too scared to examine felt major.
Come on, Stewart! You're suddenly shrinking from the contents of your own mind? Look those thoughts in their cold, dead eyes and call them what they are. You've thought plenty of disturbing things? Now's not the time to be too cowardly to acknowledge them!
Lois. He hadn't wanted Brian to marry Lois, so...of course the actual wedding day was hard on him! But...he'd known it was coming, and he still hadn't been able to hold himself together. While he couldn't really condemn himself for making a scene on Lois's wedding day, he regretted marring Brian's . He felt a pang of remorse, as the scene of Brian taking him outside of the McBurgertown to speak to him flashed before his mind's eye. But the dog's words hadn't only made him feel guilty then, had they? They'd also made him feel...oddly flattered.
"I would have really liked your support."
That's how Brian had answered, when Stewie asked what would have made the best day of the canine's life perfect.
I wish I could've supported you, Brian, but I make it a practice not to support really stupid life choices. You deserve better, mutt, for all your flaws. You deserve someone who didn't marry you out of desperation. If you had married the right person, I would even have helped to plan the wedding and reception. If you had married the rightperson…
His eyes widened at a sudden but natural realization.
...It would've been me standing at the altar with you, and not Lois.
There it was. What he'd been unwilling to see, the element which would help him piece everything together. Jealousy.
He was jealous of Lois. He wanted to deny it, wanted to ignore it now that he had called it by its proper name, but it was the only thing that made all the pieces fit. Explained the extent of his negative reactions to Brian getting closer and closer to marrying the red-headed twat.
J-Jealous? Of Lois?! Because of…
He gulped audibly.
"...Brian."
It came in almost a whisper, sounding so foreign yet...right.
He wasn't just physically attracted to that mutt. He...wanted more. He coveted Lois's role as his romantic partner. Stewie knew that he had hit upon the truth, but at the same time, he was flabbergasted. All he could think was... why?
It went beyond just a simple crush, too: he knew that with absolute certainty. While he did think that Brian was a total hunk, and would happily giggle over finding him thus (to the nonjudgmental ears that did not exist) as much as any Mary Sue would about a random boybander, what Stewie truly craved was...to be by the dog's side in a meaningful way. ...The most meaningful way there was. But that must mean-
"Hey, Stewie, it's time for dinner."
The child nearly jumped a mile. Would his stepdoggy never learn to knock?! It was enough of a shock to the system to hear Brian's voice after...after all that Stewie had been thinking, but then he had to see that damned, beloved face pop into his room without warning.
"I believe I've spoken to you about intruding upon my privacy," said Stewie, the words sounding almost robotic even to his own ears. He was also all too aware of the thousand-yard stare on his face as he gazed in the canine's general direction. There seemed to be no way to act naturally around Brian in this moment.
What in the blazes, Dog? Either you're making me feel too many human emotions, or you make me forget how to act like a functional human at all!
"Yeah, you have," said Brian, blatantly unapologetically. "But, uh...listen- are you doing alright, Stewie?"
Stewie blinked several times as he tried to get his rapidly beating heart under control and put on a cooler exterior. "What do you mean?"
The dog tilted his head slightly as he studied the baby. "Well, you look kind of pale. Maybe a little sick."
"Psshaw. Please. You just can't handle my beauty," Stewie retorted, snappy rejoinders coming back to him quicker than he would've predicted. But in this case, he felt he just may have picked the wrong one, and hurried to pivot on his foot and do a "sassy" turn, so as to have an excuse to look away.
Stupid, stupid! Willing away any blush that might be on his face, but still with his back to Brian, Stewie bent and made a show of gathering up his toys, like he was just going to casually put them away, all the while maybe listening a little too attentively to how Brian would respond to his last comment.
"Well, it's not just that. In the car…" Brian paused for a brief moment before taking a step closer. "You were acting a little...funny...even for you."
Even with his back turned, the infant could still feel the dog's presence growing closer. He could feel the goosebumps appearing on his skin.
"F-Funny?"
Stewie threw his toys into the toy chest before working up the willpower to force a smile on his face and turn around to address Brian.
"I told you, Brian, I was thinking about an invention. That's it."
He rolled his eyes.
"You just worry too much. If you think there's something wrong, there's not. Really."
Was he trying too hard to be convincing? Was it obvious how hard he was trying? That expression the dog was giving him certainly didn't make it easy to tell, and it certainly didn't help matters that he waited several seconds, just staring Stewie down, before replying.
"I feel like I know you pretty well, and your behavior is still striking me as...odd."
There was another brief moment of silence before the dog simply shrugged.
"But, if you're telling me everything is alright, I'll believe you. I'm an open ear if you do need one, though."
The canine smiled warmly at the tyke, and Stewie felt that rapid beating of his heart increase what must have been tenfold. He cleared his throat, still fighting to keep his composure.
"Everything. Is. Alright."
Brian nodded.
"Well, ok. I guess we should head downstairs, then."
The dog turned to walk away, but Stewie didn't follow, still rooted to his spot, still taking in that smile, those words. He loved knowing Brian cared.
"Thanks anyway, though."
At hearing the boy speak, Brian turned back around, an expression that Stewie could have sworn was shock on his face.
"Thanks?"
The infant couldn't help but release a small chuckle.
"For the offer. You know, being an ear and all. I mean, I have nothing to say right now, rest your pretty little head assured, but I appreciate your offer regardless."
Brian redirected his gaze at the floor as he reached up to scratch an itch behind his neck.
"Awww, jeez, Stewie, I bitch enough at you. I'd be a jerk if I didn't let you return the favor, every once in awhile."
This moment was getting too tender for Stewie's liking. Well, he DID like it. It was nice, but it was also pretty much more than he could handle. God, the way that dog could warm his heart… He chuckled again, nervously, before batting his hand in an attempt to make the mood more casual.
"Well, bitches are gonna bitch. What was that about dinner? Ready? Oh, good. I'm starving."
He even rubbed his stomach to emphasize his hunger as he walked quickly out the door, not sparing the dog even one more passing glance as he rushed down the stairs and took his spot up in the highchair.
"You need help getting changed?"
Stewie was staggered, his whole body (yes, it could literally be every part of his body if he let himself dwell on that question too much) tensing with his back to Brian, as the dog shut the door to the baby's bedroom. Heat flooded the infant's face, and he didn't respond for several moments.
Holy crap, Dog! What are you doing to me?!
The child bit his lip and choked down a small, desperate sound, while he felt an invisible pressure behind him grow more and more intense. Brian's presence. His stepdoggy was approaching him.
"Um, Earth to Stewie? I asked you a question. You know, I'm trying really hard to ignore how strange you've been acting since I picked you up from preschool, but it's getting more and more difficult."
The canine was sounding concerned again. This wouldn't do. Stewie refused to accept that he was just doomed to always act awkward around Brian from this point on. He had to find some way to cope. A subject which demanded some significant thought. Unfortunately, that would probably have to wait until tomorrow. He looked out his window at the night sky. God, he wanted nothing further now except to be left alone in this room! No, he most certainly didnot want Brian to stay and help him out of his clothes…
...Well, he did, but he didn't. Mainly because the tease would be helping him out of his clothes only to innocently help him cover up again.
"I heard you, Brian," he said, as smoothly as he could muster. He clasped his hands before himself as though calm and in control, when really, he just wanted a very subtle way to wring them. Turning around to face his stepdoggy, he added, "We all get in these distracted moods, isn't that so? I promise you, Brian, I have nothing to tell you which you would consider worth hearing. Though, I reiterate, I'm appreciative of your willingness to let me unload."
"So...pajamas?" Brian prompted. He went over to the crib, lowered the protective bars on one side, and fluffed Stewie's pillow roughly."I can't go to bed until you do, you know, and I'm pretty tired, Stewie."
Damn it! The baby was annoyed that he'd once again needed prompting to answer a simple question. He hoped he was seeming a little more together, however.
"In that case," he told the dog, "why don't you just leave me to perform my nightly ritual solo? I don't really need anyone's assistance when it comes to figuring the complexities of footie pajamas."
Brian smiled. A peculiar smile, Stewie thought. It was fond, and that should have warmed the tyke's heart, but it also seemed rather condescending.
"Well, look at you. And you've been getting yourself down to breakfast more and more often, too. You know what I think I've noticed, Stewie? I think you've been even more determined to demonstrate your independence since I….well, took on this role."
Stewie cocked his head to one side, considering that, but very briefly. He felt like he should reject that premise.
"I don't really think that's true at all." He paused. "And please refrain from being all…" He put a generous amount of fake enthusiasm into his voice, "'...Oh, look at you doing stuff!' when it's exceedingly simplistic, mundane stuff. It doesn't reflect well on either of us."
The mutt seemed a little confused by the note of offense in Stewie's voice.
"Well...you could look at it like I've been a good motivator, helping you to grow…"
The child cut him off right there. "Oh, yes, indeed, indeed! Thank you soooomuch for motivating me to take my pants off!"
Brian was silent. Stewie was silent. They stared at each other, blinking slowly. For Stewie, it was like, this time, the words that had come out of his own mouth were too surreal to even be embarrassing.
"Um...right. Okay." Brian both spoke first and looked away first, while sort of idly scratching at his arm. "Anyway. You're going to take care of the pajama thing, then?"
The child groaned at both himself and the dog.
"That...that was the point, yes, but if you must remain in the room at least have the decency to turn around."
Brian looked at him curiously for a few seconds before shrugging.
"Uh, ok, then. Sure. Whatever."
The dog turned his back to the toddler, who breathed an inaudible sigh of relief that Brian had been gracious enough to not question his request. With the dog's eyes off him, he at least felt a little less...exposed, if not comfortable. Not wanting to chance Brian turning around before he was done, the infant hurried out of his clothing and quickly found and threw on his sleeper, the process made a little sloppy by his haste. He hopped around, trying to get his feet in and almost fell on his face once, and then had a little trouble with the buttons. Still, in under a minute, he was successfully in his sleep clothes and announcing,
"Done."
Brian turned around and began walking toward the boy.
"Well, ok. Great! Progress."
He chuckled awkwardly, obviously attempting to lighten the mood in the room.
Stewie just shook his head as he allowed the canine to lift him up and place him in his crib. The dog tucked the baby in, and there was another tense moment as the older just stood there staring at the younger. The child squirmed a bit under his obsession's inscrutable gaze.
What?! What do you want from me?!
He, of course, didn't receive an answer to this thought. Instead, the dog just leaned in and smiled lightly.
"Goodnight, Stewie."
"Goodni-"
The child stopped in the middle of his reply as he felt a sudden kiss being placed upon his cheek. He gasped, but if Brian noticed, he did nothing to indicate such. The dog just lifted the bars of his crib in place and shut off the light before proceeding out of the room, leaving Stewie in a state of shock and slight bliss as he whispered into the darkness.
"Goodnight, Bry."
It was not a good night. Sleep eluded him for several hours. Every time he thought that he had caught it, he would begin to drift into a disorientating state of exhaustion, only to be upheaved from his semi-consciousness- possibly from the butterflies in his stomach or the weight on his heart or the pain in his head- and become completely and wretchedly awake.
I didn't need this. Brian...you once told me that my life wasn't so bad. Everyone treats me like your typical dumb, drooling baby with nary a worry in his life… But you of all people...you should've known. You've been more fair to me than anyone else has, but this… This isn't fair! Because I'm so different from the norm, I spend enough time fighting the way things are. But now, I need something else to set me apart?! I need to be completely over the moon for my stepdoggy?!
Tears pricked at Stewie's eyes. He hugged his pillow close and curled into a ball.
Why can't I sleep?! I just want to escape! And then, tomorrow, I can work on figuring out how to suppress these godawful feelings.
When other people were in similar situations, they might not have to. They might have the luxury of waiting to see if their best friend got knocked off first, leaving an opening for them to marry the friend's significant other. Of course, Stewie had always wanted to kill Lois…
Not that he wanted to be with Brian. Not that Brian would ever, like, ever , in a million years, in any possible existing multiverse, be interested if he did…
Stewie rolled over onto his back, casting the pillow aside. It flew to the bottom of the crib and beaned Rupert on the head. Stewie didn't even bother to apologize.
"Get out of the way, Rupert! Watch where I'm throwing things!" he admonished, before standing up and messing with the bars of the bed until they gave a click and he could lower them.
The baby jumped down to the floor, where he began to pace. If he couldn't fall into a beneficial sleep, complete with REM cycling and all, he might as well stay up and find something to do. That was his reasoning.
He should read. Yes! That would be his distraction. Something to nourish his mind, instead of putting himself through this mental anguish. Something else to focus on and think about, instead of feeling so many things. The child walked over to his bookshelf.
Brushing aside Pat the Bunny and even his beloved Goodnight, Moon , Stewie considered his choices. Hawking's A Brief History of Time ? There was some substantial food for his brain. Or for fiction, short stories by Dostoyevsky? Reading something that depressing would surely put his own troubles in perspective, right?
As Stewie glanced around his shelf, something caught his eye. What is that…?
The child reached for what looked like a short stack of papers. Once his fingers closed around them, they felt thicker than what he was expecting, and, noting the glossy finish, he immediately realized what they were. Stewie simply stood there, holding onto them, for several long moments while he hung his head and sighed.
Is the whole universe conspiring against me?
Giving into some unexplained masochistic desire, he found himself taking the pictures from the shelf and walking with them over to his little orange table.
By moonlight, he was able to see Brian's face and his own as they checked out the plasma globe.
"This can't keep happening, Dog," he told the inanimate image of Brian. "I've already lost enough sleep over you. And this is the worst night yet, just because I happened to realize that I…" He caressed the canine's forehead with his thumb. "I…"
He didn't even want to say it out loud to a picture of Brian.
The toddler switched to the next photo, and let out a little laugh. He couldn't help it, when he saw how silly he looked with all his hairs- few, but luscious- sticking up. And Brian, of course, looked just like a puffy snowball. It made him look even more soft and cozy than usual.
It doesn't do any good, Stewie, he told himself. You old fool…
The next picture was one inside the rocket playhouse, and involuntary thoughts entered the child's mind. Thoughts like how good the two of them looked, standing side by side. In that moment, it didn't matter that the museum was full of dumbed-down science for pictures still encapsulated Stewie's two favorite things: science and Brian, and he treasured them.
Following that photo was another one inside the pretend rocket. Stewie admired it duly before moving on. He then came to a picture of Brian and him flanking a dummy mummy.
It was another fun photo, but it brought to mind Stewie's real-life dummy mummy and the rush of jealousy and frustration that then assailed him made him go on to the next picture.
Here they were, aiming wide grins at the camera while posing with that laughable imitation of a time machine. They'd been having a great time, hadn't they? How many pictures like this would be in their future? Where they were just clowning around without a care in the world? Oh, if only Stewie could go back to when he believed that mere lust was the extent of his inappropriate feelings for Brian! Who knew that was a simpler time? Stewie imagined lots of outings that would take place now- stepdoggy and stepson trips- where he wouldn't even be able to relax and enjoy the time with Brian at all. He imagined never goofing around in a photo with Brian again. He winced at the pain this caused him to feel.
He came to the end now, the last picture. Stewie wasn't in it. That felt sort of telling after the recent gloomy thoughts, but the subject that was in the picture couldn't help but cheer the baby a little. It was just so adorable. Stewie was glad he'd sneakily taken this photo of Brian desperately digging away for a bone. He imagined showing it to his stepdoggy. Brian might find his own actions embarrassing and undignified after the fact, but Stewie loved how utterly without pretense Brian was in this photo. Sure, going absolutely bonkers in that sand had been a damn silly thing to do, but, Stewie suddenly realized, he loved seeing all sides of the dog, including this one.
But what the deuce did that matter?
Surely his unconditional acceptance would mean very little to the canine. It would never have the impact with Brian that the boy would like it to have. And Stewie...well, Stewie didn't want to feel this terrible yearning and devotion any more than stepdoggy would like to be the object of it.
The child had to restrain himself from throwing the pictures and scattering them about the room. He'd just get asked in the morning why he'd gotten them off the shelf and flung them around. He could only sigh bitterly, and slowly rise, steadying himself with his palms against the table. There was nothing to do but to get rid of these photos...inconspicuously, however.
Maybe he would vaporize them. That would leave no trace.
But then he reached out for them, and even though he wouldn't have thought his heart could sink any lower, it plummeted again when he was holding the pictures and contemplating disposing of them. No. He would have to settle for hiding them somewhere he wasn't bound to look for a very long time. Just like his feelings for Brian- there was no other choice than to hide them away and ignore them.
Stewie went back over to his bookshelf, his eyes searching for a book he would never choose to read for himself, as well as one any misguided family member would be unlikely to pull off the shelf to read to him. At last his gaze alighted upon a book of children's Bible stories. The baby's brow furrowed as he tried to recall from whence it came. Upon reflection, he thought he remembered it being a gift from the fat man's father, that religious nutjob who'd stayed with them for a time. Well, Mr. Jesus Is My Homeboy probably wouldn't be visiting now with his son dead. Francis despised Lois.
And so the infant stowed the pictures away inside the children's Bible book, and then just stood there in the moonlight, deliberating. He'd gotten up to find something distracting to do before he could mercifully fall asleep. Sleep didn't seem any closer now than it did when he originally got up, but nor did any of his books look appealing. It had been a brief journey to go through those photos. But like a trip to another town in one's same small state could seem lengthy when one spent it concentrating on not getting a stiffy, five minutes spent looking at pictures could seem like a lifetime when they put you through an emotional wringer.
Should he do something else? Work on an invention? Learn how to play the piccolo? Wake Rupert for a midnight tea party? Run away from home?
In the end, Stewie settled for just climbing back into his crib. He might be awake until the sun came up, but so be it. He wasn't motivated to pursue any kind of activity just then. So, he just lay there, sleepless, thinking about what a walking cliche he had become. Would he discover in the morning that he had no appetite? Well, if Lois cooked him that odious oatmeal again, then probably.
All he knew for certain at the moment was, in his case, falling in love had definitely made him unable to sleep.