there's so much h/c in this chapter it's like 90% fluff it's great

So you must have sat there for a good half hour staring at him sat in the corner before you lean over and prod his shoulder.

"Brain."

He doesn't respond. You start to marvel at his resilience. Which would be so much more impressive if he wasn't acting like such a child.

"Please say something."

You lean back, biting at your nails in a vague nervous habit-y sort of way, and eventually he responds. "Oh, my apologies. It's just I'm not allowed to talk during time out."

You're about to say something when you notice his shoulders shaking. It looks and sounds like he's laughing, albeit still sarcastically, so you laugh too, and it's great for about forty five seconds before he buries his face in his hands and oh shit.

You're not sure when he stopped laughing and started crying, because he was definitely laughing a minute ago (you think?) and you're panicking because while you've seen him cry before, it was only a few tears. You're the hysterical one out of the two of you. Brain just sort of leaks for a while before getting on with things.

He's not making any sound again, and that worries you. He's sobbing, but it's totally silent, and after a moment of pondering this (you're starting to miss that word) you wrap your arms around him and pull him close to your chest.

You're trying.

"Oh, no, Brain, please don't cry. It's alright, I promise you." Fuck, quickly, think. You pat his back a little for good measure. "It's. Um. You're safe! I'm here, and, um. Nobody's going to hurt you. They might stick you in a maze for half an hour but that doesn't really hurt, does it? Haha. Narf."

Why is he crying this is wrong you're the emotional one that needs guiding around all the time oh god. And while you know in your heart that that's not true (not only are you totally independent, but, you know. The jungle incident.) it's just easier to act like it is because, well. It just. Makes things easier.

Or it just makes him feel better about himself. You're not sure.

You think he's stopped now, but you don't stop your awkward patting until a little while later, and you still haven't let go of him yet. "...Are you alright?" You ask, somewhat hesitantly, and eventually he gives a small nod but makes no attempt to move. And that's okay, because you don't move either. You just sort of sit there and admittedly you're kind of relishing the contact because you don't have a cuddly relationship.

Whatever relationship you have.

And when you do finally pull away, you reach out and very gently wipe his face dry with your hand, which would be easier if he wasn't pointedly looking away from you, but that's okay, you understand. You take the blanket from your bed and wrap a small section around his shoulders (you're sitting on it, so you can't pull the whole thing) and give him the most reassuring smile you can manage.

He doesn't look at you.

"What do we do now."

You have to think for a moment here, because usually you're the one asking him what you need to do. And you can't give him any even mildly humorous suggestions, no matter how funfunsillywilly they might be. (You are joking most of the time. Half the things you say aren't even possible. The problem is that Brain doesn't really get your jokes most of the time. You kind of accepted that a long time ago, but there's no harm in trying.)

"Well, I don't know. What do we usually do when we're not taking over the world?"

He cuts over your inevitable "poit" noise.

"Well. Sleep, I suppose. And." He shivers, cuts himself off, and then shuffles around to look at you again.

"Do you think they've forgotten about us?"

You blink. "Who, Brain."

"The. The scientists. We have been missing for a...for an inordinately long time, and. Well. There's a possibility they might have forgotten we exist."

That is a possibility, and it's the most optimistic thing you've thought of in a very long time, so you smile and nod. "I don't see what this has to do with now, though."

"Well, that's the other thing we do. Walk through stupid mazes. And. And get electrocuted." He wraps his arms around himself. "...And burnt with...various objects." He continues, in a smaller voice. "And get seperated. And chained up, against our will. And."

You hug him again because he's panicking and he needs to shut up.

"Right. Yes. Thank you, my friend." He mumbles into your shoulder. "I think I might have gotten a little carried away there."

"It's alright, Brain." A pause. "...As opposed to, erm. Unforcibly tied up?" Zort.

"In your case, maybe." He mumbles under his breath, and you pretend you don't hear him. His condition, you think, is probably an acceptable excuse for you not to bring up his jabs against your personal enjoyments. It's not your fault that you didn't actually mind being in Hell too much.

He's less distressed when you pull away this time, and you sit and think for a moment. "I suppose we could always just think up ideas." You suggest, after a while. "And, you know, not act on them yet. I mean, like I said, we can wait."

"Thank you for the suggestion." He sighs. You feel like he's not taking you seriously. "I just don't feel very inspired at the moment."

"You could try sleeping more." You're not letting this go.

"I..." He looks like he's about to argue with you, but decides against it. "Alright, yes. And then I'm sure tomorrow we can get started on another plan, yes?"

"Of course."

Which translates, in your head, to you severely doubting the fuck out of that.