Chapter Text
How long had it been since he'd seen a lab? It certainly did seem like a lifetime at this point. No test tubes, no wires, no restricted chemical compounds, he was stuck with nothing but doll dresses and infuriatingly analog household technology. Oh yes, and that horrid little girl. How he'd love to give her inattentive and irresponsible parents a stern talking to. More than anything, however, he longed for a simpler time, when his failures seemed less monumental.
"What's wrong, Brain?"
Pinky had rolled over on their tiny plastic doll mattress, whispering directly into his ear in that way he does when he's trying to soothe. It's astonishing, really, with how addled the circuitry in Pinky's brain is, that he can always tell the exact moment Brain's mood shifted towards melancholy. It was like a seismograph sensing minute changes in tectonic activity.
"It's nothing, Pinky. Go back to sleep." He said dismissively, rolling over onto his side.
"Oh, come now." Pinky addressed the back of his head. "What's goin' on in that big silly noggin of yours, hmm?"
The Brain's ears twitched at the sound, involuntarily swiveling back to catch the soft tone of his voice. He knows there's little sense in dragging his feet. Pinky would get the truth out of him sooner or later, so compliance would be the best choice.
"Pinky, I... Well, to put it quite plainly, I'm tired."
"Oh, well pardon me. I'll let you go back to bed then."
"No, Pinky. Not like that." He groaned. "I'm weary. I...I miss our lab. I miss our cage. I miss the monatany. I miss the normalcy."
"I know what you mean, Brain. That exercise wheel sure was nice, poit." Pinky sighed. "But the suburbs ain't all bad. There's lots of yummy food here, and silly-willy fun to be had! Like turning Mr. Pussy Wussy into a dog, or that time we met that spaceman?"
"This isn't sustainable, Pinky! Surely you know that? Never mind taking over the world at this point, that brutish little girl is going to slip up and kill us one of these days."
"Aw, Elmyra isn't so bad, Brain. She's just...spirited is all." Behind his defense, Pinky's voice is just as tired. "But you're right. We can't very well go on living like this, now can we?"
A silence stretches between them, the mutual acknowledgement of the helplessness of their little lives never needed to be put to words. Not at ACME, not in the streets, and not in the master suite of the Darling Debbie Daydream Home in Elmyra's bedroom. It was something that they knew, and they would never speak aloud because it was much too much to bear. Pinky curled around him, and Brain allowed himself to be held. Who was comforting who, he simply couldn't say.
"You know what I want, Brain? More than the world, even?" Pinky prompts wistfully.
"I'm going to regret asking, but what?"
"I wanna stay here- not here here, of course, but in a nice little neighborhood like this. In a lovely little house of our own. Just like Lucy and Desi."
"Oh, yes. Your little 'happy family' fantasy. We tried that, remember? It didn't last very long. Additionally, I'm certain that the exposure to garbage television and microwave meals were deteriorating my brain." The Brain said, nose wrinkled.
"Yes, and that was all fun and good- Narf! But it was just a game. I want the real thing, next time. A big ol house, with a pretty garden, with lots of flowers, and all new appliances in the kitchen, and- oh! Brain, you could have a home laboratory in the garage! Wouldn't that be fancy?"
"A home laboratory, you say?" He mumbled, fighting off the drowsy feeling that was beginning to fog his mind. "That would be a drastic improvement."
"Oh yes! With lots of test tubes and burners and good science-y things you can use to take over the world." Pinky sighed against the top of his head. "Come to think of it, it'd be like we had our own little piece of the world, now wouldn't it?"
"Mm yes." Brain yawned, not particularly following anymore, allowing Pinky's droning to lull him. "That's nice, Pinky."
"And I can finally use those recipes I've been saving. I can just see myself watching our children play in the yard while I pop a tin of gelatin into the fridge for dinner."
"Pinky, serving a child one of those gelatin concoctions would be abuse." Brain groaned. "And Roman Numeral One is a bit old for that."
"You're such an old stick in the mud." Pinky sighed, his own words becoming muddled with sleepiness. "But I love you anyway."
Love confessions were rare between them, but not unwelcome. The Brain had always regarded it as something so blatantly obvious that it didn't bear addressing, but Pinky let it slip every now and again. He never responded verbally, but in close quarters such as these, he'd indulge his compatriot with a slight squeeze of the hand.
"And you are an addle-brained simpleton, lost in fantasy and devoid of reason." Brain said affectionately. "And I tolerate you. Goodnight, Pinky."
"Nighty-Night, Brain."
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The Brain tinkered away in the corner while Pinky and the Oaf enjoyed their television reruns. A little peace around here was so rare, he wanted to make the most of every second. As he worked, his mind wandered off to the little fantasies Pinky had shared with him under the cover of night. Of course, most of it was just wistful poppycock- a dream world, developed by tv producers, designed to make one feel sentimental. Completely unrealistic. But the prospect of his own lab....that was enticing. It was.....it could be...attainable?
They could buy a house together, provided they had a way to acquire the finances. He's successfully passed for a human on multiple occasions, and even if he hadn't, surely there were real estate agents desperate enough to sell to a pair of genetically altered lab mice. And they could finally be rid of Elmyra and her horrid games of 'air mice', and he'd be free to focus his attention on world domination without having to keep an ear cocked for the sound of thunderous footsteps. Goodness, even he was swooning at the thought now.
Unfortunately, a minute's diversion of his attention was all it took for one to be ambushed in this suburban wasteland. A chubby, sticky hand wrapped around his body, yanking him away from his project. The Brain let out an undignified squeak of surprise, scrambling helplessly in the air before resigning himself to his fate, however horrid it may be.
"Whatcha doin', Brainy Big Head?" Elmyra asked, head cocked to one side, her grip loosening just enough so he can breathe.
"I am attempting to create a device that will use subliminal messages to manipulate humanity into subjugating themselves to me." He explained through gritted teeth.
She stared at him with vacant eyes, trying to make sense of the words he'd thrown at her. Curse his inability to take into consideration the fact that he was surrounded by utter ignoramuses before he spoke. With a sigh, he dumbed down his speech.
"I am making a funny machine that makes people like me so I can rule the world."
"A machine that makes people like you?" Her eyes lit up with hope. A poor choice of words on his part. "CAN I TRY?!"
Her grip tightened around him as she pleaded, making his eyes bulge and his ribs creak. He dug his claws into her fingers, trying desperately to get her to release her grip.
"Can't. Not...ready yet." He choked.
"Oh phooey." Her hand relaxed in disappointment, allowing him to suck in breaths of air. "I thought I was gonna have some friends..."
For a moment, he feels a twinge of pity for the child. He understood why her peers would give her a wide berth- she was a dull, blundering, beastly child after all- but even so, it must be a terribly lonely existence to lead. To have one's only friends be mute prisoners who cannot voice their true discontent. Only for a moment, though, as before he could dwell on that thought any longer, he was whisked away.
"Oh well! Guess you'll have to play dolly dress-up with silly big-nosed Pinky and me!!! We're doing ball gowns today!"
"Oh goody." Brain groaned, putting his face in his hands.
As he sat in a stuffy pink ball of tulle watching Pinky twirl around in an even fluffier yellow number, he pondered his position. This really was an unsustainable way of life. He couldn't continue to work like this, and it was only a matter of time before Elmyra's excitement killed them both. Truthfully, it was amazing that they'd survived so many games of 'cartoon mice'. No, the world would have to wait. Refuge was now his top priority. Somewhere nice and mundane, with a manicured lawn, and a very nice garage. A base from which they could conquer the world!
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Well, it hadn't been easy, but The Brain had worked out a plan he was sure would work. When they'd briefly hypnotized that agent of the Circle, they'd learned every intention of that operation- to use his intelligence in their own plot for world domination, then dispose of himself and Pinky once they were no longer of use. It was very valuable information indeed, and since the Circle had not yet found them in this taffy colored hellhole, that meant the ball was in his court and he could theoretically strike a deal.
Dealing with an organization such as the Circle was a dangerous game, that much he knew. Especially since he was unaware of how wide their reach was, or how many persons might be involved. If he didn't play his cards right, he could very well be walking right into their hands. But on the other hand, if he did play his cards right, he'd be like every other American Mouse trying to have it all- House, home laboratory, career, and of course, the world. The hardest part was keeping it a secret from Pinky.
This was too delicate an operation to risk implicating Pinky. He was too simple, and too innocent, and too kind. He'd be sure to throw the whole thing, somehow. Besides, he had to admit to the more personal motivation of wanting to see the look on his companion's face when he made all of his dreams come true. It was silly, and sentimental, but he could excuse a little sentimentality every once in a while. On special occasions.
"'You've received my terms, I'll be awaiting your correspondence. I do hope we can come to an agreement. Sincerely, The Brain.'" He read his closing statement aloud again, just to be sure it was perfect.
"Golly, Brain, that sounds serious- troz! Is this part of tonight's plan?"
Pinky's voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he hits the send button with his foot. Perhaps just a tad too quickly to appear innocent, but if Pinky cought onto his nerves, he didn't let on. He turns to face him, expression neutral.
"Yes, Pinky. I am experimenting with chain emails again."
"Oh, we didn't get very far with that one last time, Brain." Pinky said, ears lowered as he tried to let him down easy.
"Yes, well, it's low energy. And I've changed the composition of the letter slightly, so perhaps we'll see better results."
"Oh, well, when you put it like that- narf!" Pinky's ears perked back up immediately, a smile returning to his face. "Soooo... Don't suppose you're doing anything else for the night then, hmm?"
There was a flirtatious tone in his voice that made The Brain's pelt tingle with anticipation. Well, his work was done, why shouldn't he allow himself to partake in recreational activity?
"No, I don't suppose I am. Shall we sneak down to the kitchen for a late dinner?" He tried to emulate the tone of voice, but tone had never been his forte. In fact, he'd often been told he only had one.
"Oh Brain~" Pinky swooned. "I'd be delighted~ Poit!"
The Brain breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Crisis averted. And furthermore, snacks gained. Not a bad day's work, if he did say so himself. And he did say so himself. A wave of pride and confidence overtook him and he grasped Pinky's hand firmly in his own, scurrying off towards the kitchen.