Author's Note: This story was inspired by a headcanon that writer cresselia8themoon came up with, in which, and I quote, "...Brain is scared that Pinky might succeed in sacrificing himself so he can rule the world and it won't be something they can reverse...". This is the second time I've written a Pinky and the Brain piece based off of someone else's fan fiction and/or headcanon. I actually got 1/3 of the way through a storyboard for the first before I came up with another idea that became what's written below. I considered storyboarding this one, too, but decided to simply do a few illustrations to go along with it instead, which I'll post a link to when I've finished them.

Trigger warnings: Suicide, multiple character deaths, blood and gore (near the very end).

Lightning shot across the cold, white-washed walls, puncturing the plaster with ghostly shadows whose tendrils groped into every corner and crevice. It sliced into the metal tables positioned ever so perfectly, tight in their respective spots throughout the blackened room. Its streaks cut into the malefic inhabitants that peppered the landscape - test tubes, syringes, boxes of medical gloves, dilators, gauze, note pads, scalpels. It ignored the screams echoing from its birthplace: a globular glass bottle, tapered at the top, just large enough for a mouse to uncomfortably pace around in. Relentlessly did it perform its dance across the linoleum floor, past the locked steel doors, and over a set of watery, electric blue eyes glued to the subject writhing and twisting inside the makeshift prison of a bottle.

"It doesn't have to end like this, you know," slid the words out from under whetted lips, smooth and sinister.

Pinky jumped a little as a cold paw slithered onto his shoulder. He turned slightly, reluctantly pulling his gaze away from the lightning show to rest upon the owner of the paw. A pitying look greeted him. Not a genuine, remorseful look; this one had the makings of a smirk behind it. Yet Pinky did not pick up on this. He never did much like the hamster... or trust him. Snowball had never given him much reason to. This time, however, his options were slim.

"Poor Brain. A victim of his own creation. Ironic, is it not? The analyst becomes the experiment. I tried to warn him, but would he listen to me? Oh, nooooo. And now... look."

Each word was carefully placed; each syllable ever so lightly pressed where needed. The full smirk broke through briefly as Snowball circled behind Pinky's back, only to be replaced by a convincing frown of sympathy as he reappeared on the white mouse's right-hand side. Pinky was frowning too, except his pout was sincere, eyes trained on the helpless prisoner being endlessly shocked and stung. A corner of Snowball's mouth twitched. He had him. It was all too easy.

"It's only a matter of time now before he's... well... I can't bear to say it. And the lightning needs a host until its goal is accomplished, lest it get out of control. I'd go in myself, of course, but... who would keep the machine in check? If only there was someone who could take his place..."

It was all nonsense. Empty words with no logic behind them. Yet it all made perfect sense to Pinky. Simple, dreadfully perfect sense. He turned to Snowball, gaze glistening as he grasped the hamster's shoulders with two shaking paws.

"I'll do it, Snowman! Send me in instead! Please!"

Snowball raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"You?"

Pinky nodded solemnly as Snowball slowly returned the gesture, his own paws taking hold of Pinky's shoulders.

"Understand, my friend, that you won't be its prisoner for merely a few minutes, but for as long as it takes..."

Pinky hung his head. He wasn't stupid; at least, not in the way people perceived him to be. He knew what he was giving up.

"He's my friend..."

Snowball said nothing. Not immediately. For a few seconds, he let it linger - give Brain a little more time to suffer; give the idiot a little more time to think about exactly what it was he was committing to do.

After a full thirty seconds, he nodded and gently steered Pinky closer to the glass, a paw resting on his back in mock comfort. The gesture might've been a kind one if he hadn't been nudging him to the gallows.

"Just remember...," Snowball muttered, as he shuffled over to a panel, his index finger hovering over a small, green button labeled 'Hold', "... you only have twenty seconds to replace him before it turns back on again."

Pinky gave a silent response in understanding, nose almost touching the literal bottle of lightning. He swallowed... hard. He could take a lot of pain, relish it even, but this was a different set - one he didn't think even he'd be able to handle. But Brain was in there, and that wasn't right. His friend was hurting. He shouldn't be. He couldn't be.

Pinky turned to face Snowball.

"Just one more thing. Promise you'll let Brain take over the world with you."

A pause. The hamster's finger still hovered over the button as he stared at Pinky, contemplating his request.

"Promise?" Pinky pleaded.

Snowball inclined his head ever so slightly.

"Of course, my friend."

It was barely visible, but Pinky smiled.

For a moment, everything went black as the machine was held fast, ensnared in a temporary hold. A few sparks flew, and an emergency green light from somewhere in the room flashed on, illuminating an immobile Brain as a transparent door in the bottle was released and opened. Without hesitation, Pinky ran in, picked Brain up, and quickly deposited him outside of the bottle. He lingered for a moment... Brain was still breathing, but unconscious in his arms. He wouldn't mind, would he? It was the last time he'd ever see him. He wouldn't mind...
For a few silent seconds, Pinky held Brain close to him, face buried in his chest. No whispers. No words. Just... a hug.

"Pinky, hurry!" Snowball called.

Setting Brain down, Pinky flew into the bottle - a new host; a new replacement - as the door closed fast behind him. Two pink paws pressed themselves against the glass as he stared out at Brain, who stirred.

"Good-bye, Brain...," the lanky mouse choked.

"Pinky...?" whispered Brain, barely able to lift himself from the floor as he turned to stare back at his former prison. How did he get outside...? He blinked. Why was Pinky in the glass...?

"Good-bye, Pinky," muttered Snowball, the soft release of a chuckle growing in volume to a full out maniacal cackle as the machine began to reawaken.

Brain's eyes went wide as his gaze shifted from the bottle... to Snowball... and back to Pinky, who collapsed under the weight of the bolt's intensity.

"No... No! Pinky...! PINKY!"

Barely was he able to drag himself up into a hobbled run towards the glass, paws outstretched in horror, when suddenly, without warning, everything went black... and still, the last sound he heard that of Pinky's terrified screams of pain ringing in his ears...

/\/\/\/\

... he was never worth anything to you...

... where are we going, brain? ...

... useless, equivocal...

... but what if it doesn't work? ...

... you could have it all in this moment... if you wanted to...

... don't hurt him! ...

... it was never a matter of if; it was only a matter of when...

... brain? ...

... and when it all comes down to it...

... brain...! ...

... there never was any question of who would win...

... Pinky! ...

...

..

.

"... Pinky..."

Brain blinked.

... w-where.. where am I...

No... no sound. Wait. Yes, there were sounds. Echoing. Echoes in a chasm.

... Snowball... he tricked me...

Static. Crackling. The crackling of some... flashing substance. Lightning...?

... Pinky... Where was Pinky...?

Slowly, tenderly, he pushed himself up off the ground. It was cold and hard. No life in it.

As he regained consciousness, blinking away the fog lining his eyes, Brain could finally make out his surroundings. He was in a cage - slightly bigger than the one back at the lab, but also much more foreboding. There was no food here. No water. No material of any kind decorated its interior. It was simply bars and steel, with nothing to indicate that anything ever had or ever would live here. Cold. Dark. Hostile.

Brain rubbed at his eyes and looked about the room. The cage was placed on a high table set against a dark gray wall. The room itself looked like something out of a horror film - a large, vast space with towering walls and an even higher ceiling. Thick cylindrical pipes snaked up and over the walls and on the sides of a stairwell that led to... where? The lab? He wasn't even sure if this was the lab. It was certainly unlike any area he'd seen in the place they called home, resembling the basement of a power plant or a warehouse more than anything. And it was dark. Incredibly dark. The only light came from under the doors and from panels on the walls. The only sound was from beyond; the crackle of lightning, and... something else... unnerving; chilling. It was barely audible, but Brain knew what it was. He'd screamed them himself not long ago, as a prisoner of that failed mess of an experiment.

He took a tentative step forward... and gasped as he fell to the floor. Every molecule of his body ached. The very thoughts that came into his throbbing head seemed to scream in agony. Standing was one thing. Walking was another. He groaned. If there was one thing he hated almost as much as being humiliated, it was losing control - control of his mind, his body, and his emotions. Snowball had manipulated him in mind, played with his emotions by tricking Pinky into swapping places with him, and now he'd lost control of his body. Lost. He'd lost all of it... because of him...

... no. It wasn't because of Snowball. It wasn't because of Snowball at all...

It was pitiful, how he curled into a ball of nothingness, his tail wrapped tightly about him. Embarrassing, how easily the tears fell into little puddles on the barren, steel carpet. Stupid. Mortifying.

"Brain...?"

He lifted his head, eyes wide.

"Pinky..?"

He looked to the side of him. There was no Pinky, and yet... he could see him clearly. A ghost...? No. A figment. A creation of his own imaginings. Great. So now he was imagining things - pretending Pinky was there... talking to him. Was he really that far gone? Or perhaps he was just that lonely...

"What's wrong, Brain?" the imaginary Pinky whispered, leaning down to place a ghostly paw on Brain's shoulder. "Did you fail in taking over the world again? Poit."

"I..," Brain choked. It was difficult enough to speak, let alone admit his demise, even if it was only to himself.

"It's all right, Brain. You'll take over the world someday. I believe in you."

Comforting even in his imaginings. Pinky without positivity simply didn't exist.

"I... I can't," he mumbled, his head turned away.

"Oh, yes, you can, Mistah!" replied his imaginary friend. "What about your brilliant plan?"

"It was a failure, Pinky. A failure... just like everything else. Like me..."

"Oh, noooo. You're not a failure, Brain. A little big-headed, maybe, but... not a failure."

"No."

Despite himself, despite the pain, he stood up shakily and scooted up to the cage bars, grasping onto them tightly for support as he stared out at the nothingness from within his new prison.

"I am a failure. All this... - this cage, this... future - ... it's all because of me."

Pinky, if he really was there, stared at Brain sadly, ears flopped.

"If I hadn't been so... asinine, I...," he sighed. "Well, you got one thing right, my friend. Big-headed. Heh. My logic errs to a fault. And you're in the middle of it..."

Pinky stepped closer to him, slowly, hesitantly.

"Stupid. Stupid. Careless idiot!"

He kicked forcefully at the bars, causing Pinky to jump back a pace. He didn't care how much it hurt him; how the tremors ran up his body; how the pain of it nearly threw him to the floor. It was unbearable... and he deserved every ounce of it.

"Why didn't I recheck my calculations?! WHY DIDN'T I FACTOR HIM INTO THIS?! Stupid stupid stupid!"

He kept kicking, punching, berating himself against the bars - anything to make him hurt more than he already did. Pinky buried his face in his hands as he sunk low to the ground, shivering, not even attempting to stop Brain. Not that he could. He was only imaginary, after all.

Finally, after what seemed an age, the clanging ceased. Huffing and puffing, still clinging to the bars, Brain slid down onto his knees in a pitiful heap, exhausted from his own self-affliction. His entire body shook. It was all he could do to keep from letting the tears fall again... and he couldn't even do that.

Two sky blue eyes peeked out from under trembling, pink paws. They blinked, once... twice... three times, trying to focus on the shivering little white lump a foot in front of him. Tenderly, Pinky pushed himself into a standing position and quietly shuffled over to his friend.

He could barely see the paw that wasn't even there, so coated were his eyes with remorse, but he looked up all the same as Pinky laid a hand on his shoulder and knelt down next to him.

"Pinky...?"

"I'm here, Brain..."

Without hesitation, Brain reached out to hold what wasn't there; to feel the embrace of what wasn't real. He sobbed into the invisible coat of fur; grasped tightly the friend he could not see. No one would see him. No one would care. Pinky held him in return, as best he could for someone who was invisible.

"I'm sorry, Pinky," Brain wept. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you... Forgive me..."

His imaginary companion said nothing; only continued holding him; petting him.

"Do you think... he was right, Pinky? Together... only complicates things..."

"Poit. I don't think we ever had to stay together, Brain. But... I do think we need each other."

He looked up at this, eyes wide in almost child-like wonder. Perhaps Pinky had a point. They never wanted this. At least, he never wanted this. A life behind bars, encased in a prison deemed necessary by society. Playthings; disposable ingredients in this hellish kitchen of a laboratory. By some force - fate, coincidence, or purpose, he knew not which - they had been placed together, unwillingly constrained to experimental torture, but miraculously kept alive otherwise. Of all creatures, he had been given the in-house idiot. And yet... were they not perfectly balanced? The yin to each other's yang. They shouldn't mesh, their personalities, and they didn't. And yet... they also did. He'd been with Pinky so long (which, in retrospect, was not very long at all by human standards) that he couldn't imagine life devoid of him in it. If anything, he wondered how he'd gotten along for such a time without Pinky. And he knew he'd be lying to himself if he thought he didn't want him around. He did want him around. He needed him around. They needed each other...

Brain stood up, Pinky gently releasing him from his empty grasp, and limped back up to the cage barrier. He was almost surprised the bars didn't shake to pieces beneath his quivering fingers. His ears twitched. Perceptive as they were, they could hear it... just barely. They could hear the screams.

Something within him snapped. Something... primeval. Instinctual.

He ran over to the door of the cage; inspected the lock. He frowned. This was not a normal lock. Aside from the fact that it still had a keyhole, this was heavy-duty, not meant to be opened by any other means than with a specific type of key. It was the Snowball way of ensuring Brain never had a prayer of getting out. But it wasn't just anyone Snowball had imprisoned in that lightning bottle. It was Pinky.

Steeling himself for what was undoubtedly more pain to come, Brain stretched out his tail so that it reached outside of the bars, stuck it in the lock, and started twisting. His jagged appendage quickly went from being the part of his body that hurt the least to the part that hurt the most as he shoved it deeper into the lock, turning it this way and that, listening intently for any sound that would acknowledge he was on the right track.

Brain's eyes watered, his breath hitching occasionally as he worked at the lock for one minute... two minutes... five minutes, his imaginary Pinky watching from behind and acting as something of a personal cheerleader, egging him on, offering words of encouragement, and doing little victory dances whenever the lock made a particularly satisfying noise. Silly as it was, it was part of what kept Brain going.

Six minutes... Seven minutes...

Click.

... Creeeeeeaaaaaaak.

Brain breathed a heavy sigh of relief, taking a brief moment to massage his throbbing tail as the cage door swung open. Pinky whooped and cheered, sounding almost as excited as the real Pinky might be were he present. Brain turned around to stare at his imaginary friend, a small, incredulous smile playing about his visage.

"Egad! I knew you could do it!" Pinky beamed.

He didn't follow as Brain practically flew out the door and onto the floor. The little ghost faded into obscurity... as if he had never been.

Pinky... Pinky... PINKY....

It was all that danced through Brain's mind as he ran, faster than he had ever run before, from one room to the next. Pinky. He needed Pinky.

Squeezing under each door was nearly effortless. Finding the right room was the challenge. If this was the lab, it was a part of it that he'd never seen before. Some rooms housed other animals - cats, dogs, rats, many of whom had never seen the light of day; all of which had been subjected to a host of experiments. A brief glance at a few of the subjects caused Brain's heart to sink into his stomach, for he recognized the occasional result of a procedure; could smell the subtle, vinegary scent of heroin, the left-over urine on caged patients. Other rooms rumbled and growled, their bellies full with old, rusted tech and machinery. Brain avoided these doors. There was only one den he wanted. Only one that mattered.

Deeper and deeper he traveled into the depths of the scientists' cave. Sometimes a ceiling opened to reveal shadows cast by the distant lightning's flashes; other times he could only hear the sounds of his destination. Where was this room...? Were the catacombs of this prison really this extensive? He had no idea. It only made him want to press harder to achieve his goal - to take over the world and leave this dungeon forever.

Hopping through a lonely office repleted with outdated computers and cold, forgotten coffee cups, Brain squeezed under another door, instinct telling him that he was getting close. He ran down a hallway devoid of light... or life... and squeezed underneath the only door straight ahead. Through another office. Down another hallway, this one branching out into two lanes - one that led to a door at its end, another that veered off to the right. Which way...? Something about the latter appealed to him, and so he chose the right-hand door. Another office, this one newer, more polished. It, too, was home to a second door... and underneath it...

Brain ran to the second door, following the trail of light. Into another hallway, this one coated with flashes of lightning. He made a right and...

There it was. He'd made it.

With only a moment's hesitation, he ran into the room like fire and up the lab table, scaling half-way up its leg before jumping onto a chair and leaping from the top of it to the lightning machine. Pinky was still inside, writhing, convulsing. He didn't even have any more energy to scream, but was simply letting the contraption do to him whatever it willed. He had no other choice. Brain flew to the 'off' lever... and gaped... for there was no lever; at least, not much of one. A small stump remained, barely thick enough for him to grasp on to. Somehow, Snowball had cut it off at the base in its 'on' position. He'd actually considered the possibility of Brain escaping and done his best to ensure that, were he to make it back to this part of the lab, it would be too late by the time Brain managed to turn the thing off. That son of a...

Cursing himself for even building this hellish contraption in the first place, Brain grabbed hold of the little stump as best he could and pulled. It was stuck. Of course it was stuck!

He pulled again. No give.

Again.

Nothing.

Again.

Panic-stricken, he looked around for something, anything, to assist him. Gum wrappers... syringes... a microscope... q-tips... a screwdriver...

A screwdriver...

In a flash, he grabbed the driver, which was mercifully small enough for him to hold in both paws, stuck it in the gap between the stump of a lever and the top of the panel, and pulled down on the screwdriver with all his might.

... CLICK.

Zeeeeerrrrrrrrrrm...

For the second time that day, the machine was quieted... to be replaced by a florescent, green glow that dimly lit up the room. The bottle illuminated, too - ghostly white, almost identical to the pasty resident within. The little tenant lay on his side, completely immobile. Utterly silent.

Brain wasted not a second in unlocking the door and running in to kneel beside his friend.

"Pinky!" he called, resting a paw atop his cage-mate's shoulder. He jumped back as a static stream bit at him. Pinky was still bristling from the literal shock of it all. Brain hazarded another touch to the mouse's shoulder. This time, he didn't get zapped.

"Pinky...?"

Pinky uttered not a word. Either he didn't hear him... or he couldn't.

A trembling paw wrapped around a warm, limp wrist. He counted. 1... 2... 3...

The smallest of thumps kissed his fingers. He was still alive, barely.

"Pinky. Pinky, wake up," he willed, patting his friend's cheek with more force than was probably necessary. "Come on, Pinky! Wake up! Wake up or I shall have to-"

A light cough. Then another, more audible this time. Pinky's eyes fluttered as he looked up at Brain. He was barely able to lift his head. Even keeping his eyes open seemed to be a bit of an effort.

"Brain?" he muttered, his raspy voice not much more than a whisper.

"Yes, Pinky. I'm here. I'm here..."

Carefully, Brain slipped an arm underneath his friend's neck and lifted him up a little. Pinky had closed his eyes again, what little breath he had coming out in thin streams.

"Can you stand?" Brain asked, lifting him up a little more.

"I... I don't... think I can... Brain..."

"Try."

And he tried. He really did try. But when his paw pressed down upon the floor in a feeble effort to steady himself, he collapsed under the weight of it all. Brain caught his head before it collided with the hard surface of the glass.

"Okay. Okay. Don't... don't get up. Here. Hold still..."

These paws were not made for tender displays of affection. They were made for construction; for swiftly penning complex equations extracted from an erudite mind; for mixing together volatile substances with ease. They were not made for such silly and mundane things as brushing the tears from one's cheeks or tucking someone into bed at night.

Brain thought all of this to himself as he tucked his paws under Pinky's arms with the utmost tenderness he could administer... and slowly, gently, dragged him across the glass towards the exit.

He'd barely pulled him an inch, however, when Pinky squeaked. Actually squeaked. Never in his life had he heard Pinky utter an exclamation of pain in such a primitive fashion. To each other, and even in front of humans, they had always used plain, lucid English. Making actual mouse-like sounds was something even Pinky had never resorted to. Brain looked down at him worriedly. Well, more worried than he already was anyway.

"What is it?"

Pinky's body scrunched a little and his eyes clamped shut, as if trying to deaden whatever pain was coursing through him.

"I-It hurts, Brain..."

But of course it hurt. He'd just been electrocuted for who knows how long. Where wouldn't it hurt?

"Where does it hurt?"

"In.. inside. Near my middle," Pinky groaned. He patted lightly at his abdomen.

"Inside?" Brain voiced with concern. Only now did he notice that Pinky's navel area and, strangely, one of his thighs and kneecaps, were significantly bruised. Brows furrowed, he took an educated guess at exactly what that meant, but didn't want to voice it aloud. Not yet.

"Try to stay still. I need to move you out of here, Pinky."

"Is... is it night time, Brain?"

"What?"

"It's... very dark... Are they... going to turn the lights on?"

He can't see?

Brain swallowed.

"Yes, Pinky, they're... going to turn the lights back on. Soon. Now don't make any sudden movements," Brain instructed. As if he could. "I'm going to pick you up, all right? It's going to hurt a little, but try not to squirm."

Pinky nodded ever so slowly.

"Okay, Brain..."

It was an effort for someone of his small stature, but Brain managed. He had to. He picked him up bridal-style, groaning under the strain of it all as he wobbled to the glass door and practically flopped out onto the lab table. Pinky muffled a sound of disapproval as he was set down rather unsteadily.

"Are you all right..?!" Brain quavered, righting himself before quickly attending to his companion.

A little muffled "mm" was all Pinky managed to get out as Brain gingerly shifted Pinky into his lap, one arm gently securing his head while the other softly pressed into his abdomen. Pinky gasped a little at this.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I'm sorry...," uttered Brain, practically tripping over his words. It was all he could do to keep from trembling from head to tail. His paws already shook severely. He hadn't really needed to feel Pinky's abdomen to know that his only friend was bleeding internally. It wasn't as if he could perform a laparotomy on the spot. He hadn't the tools for this... or the time. Brain knew all too well what was happening. He knew... and there was nothing he could do about it...

Slowly, delicately, Brain brushed his fingers against Pinky's cheeks, petting them, cupping them, as Pinky shivered, each labored breath a struggle. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, this gentle creature had ever done that was deserving of this. It should've been him. It should've been me...

Minutes passed. Ten minutes? Twenty? An hour...?

"Brain..."

"Y-Yes, Pinky?" he choked.

"I... I'm... s-..."

Scared? Sorry? He could barely get the words out. A trembling paw reached out to hold Pinky's hand.

"It's... it's all right, old friend. You're... you're going to be all right. You'll see."

Liar.

Somehow, Pinky managed to turn his head and open unseeing eyes towards Brain.

Brain swallowed, his grip on his friend's hand tightening ever so slightly. Pinky's tightened in return.

"I'm... going to miss you... too... Brain..."

He knew. How could he know...?

Brain didn't even bother trying to stop the flow of tears this time. He gently rocked back and forth, cradling Pinky in his arm like a child. Pinky's eyes had closed again, but he kept his grip on Brain's paw, light as it was.

I don't deserve you as a friend, Pinky...

He had said that once, a long time ago. It still rang true. What had he done, to deserve someone so selfless, so sacrificial? Never in his life had he once told him. Never. He had to now. He had to...

"Pinky... I never... I never told you..."

Pinky took a particularly deep breath this time, exhaling almost as deeply. His grip slackened...

"I never told you, that... you..."

In one smooth motion, Pinky's hand slipped out of Brain's... and went still.

"Pinky...?"

He froze; pressed an ear to Pinky's chest. Brain lifted his head, eyes wide as he stared down, incredulous, at the lifeless body in his arms. He couldn't even find the energy to cry out, but simply sobbed vehemently as he buried his face in Pinky's chest, pulling him as close as he possibly could.

He wept... and he wept... For how long, he knew not. An hour. A day? Did it matter?

He wept until there were no more tears to weep, yet still he refused to leave Pinky's side. How could he?

In the distance, something tittered. A slow, poised build-up of a chortle that slithered across the floor like a shadow in the grass, growing louder... and louder. It seemed to come from the very walls, echoing off every surface it touched, eager to make its presence known.

A shiver flowed down Brain's spine. He knew that laugh.

Out from behind a test tube emerged the cackling hamster - the one who had caused all this; or, at least, whom had run with it. Like Brain, he was big-headed and intelligent, perhaps more-so than even Brain himself was. Unlike his former cage-mate, however, Snowball had no reservations. The world was a puppet that needed new strings... and a new master, no matter the cost, no matter the principles. His entire modus operandi bordered on psychopathic tendencies. He had no qualms relative to what he was about to do to the mouse he had once called a friend, or what he had already done, and the wide smirk now coating his sated expression only solidified this truth.

"Oh, Brain. I do love seeing you so... miserably unhinged."

Brain shut his eyes tight, as if doing so might also cut out the sharp words pricking at his skin.

"How does it feel? Knowing that the only creature in the world who ever cared about you is dead? And at your own hand, no less. You know, I almost didn't accept his offer. It was quite fun watching you suffer, but I knew it would be so much more... delicious seeing you grieve over someone else's demise."

The taunts bit at Brain; tore and clawed at his heart. He could feel his temperature rising, his blood boiling. He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to let it affect him, not to erupt...

"To think: You had all those months, all that time, to tell him how you felt, yet you never did. All that time. And now he'll never know."

Brain's brow furrowed all the more. He was shaking. Fuming...

"Your best friend in the whole world will never know... that you loved him."

He said "loved" not with relish... but with disdain. With acerbity. As though the word stung on his own tongue. It was almost jealous.

As the straw that broke the camel's back, it was the final push that sent Brain over the edge. He howled in fury and grabbed the closest instrument within reach: an xact-o knife.

Snowball went wide-eyed, dodging the blow just in time as the knife swung at where his chest had been moments before. It came slicing down again... and again... and again, each swipe angrier than the last, each just missing their target as Snowball backed all the way to the edge of the table and promptly fell off it, landing in a heap on the hard, linoleum floor. He shook himself and looked up just in time to see Brain leap off the precipice, knife poised to strike. In a panic, Snowball side-rolled out of the way and ran along the floor, looking for something, anything, to fight back with.

It never occurred to Brain in the moment that what he was attempting to do would have devastating ramifications, or that it was something Pinky would have greatly disapproved of. All that raced through his mind was one thing and one thing only: kill him.

Snowball had ascended a second worktable, leaping atop its open drawers to alight on its surface. Brain followed. Despite being on the alert, he still wasn't quite prepared for the counter-attack as he pulled himself up onto the table. He was only lightly pricked in the arm by the sewing needle - enough to draw blood, not so deep of a wound to cause lasting damage - yet it still stung like hell. Righting himself, thanking his super-fast reflexes for dodging out of the way before Snowball's lunge could cause any major impairment, he charged towards his nemesis with a vigor more potent than before. Their make-shift swords clanged against each other as they fought viciously, weaving in-between jars, tumblers, test tubes, and other scientific paraphernalia scattered about the table. Brain might have had the sharper weapon, but Snowball had more flexibility. Though he was able to keep Snowball at bay with his lance, forcing him to continually back-up and side-step, his adversary was able to evade every slash and jab, occasionally throwing a move Brain wouldn't see coming at all and only barely avoiding. He had the wits that Brain lacked, the energy that Brain didn't, and as the lesser of the two megalomaniacs drove his former ally down the table and into another room, he had to concede that he could only keep this duel afloat for so long...

The pursuit continued into the next chamber, this one cast with a blood-red glow from long, rectangular lamps set into the ceiling above. It was a formidable looking place, set about with even more tables and more jars and equipment than the last. It looked to be an experimentation room, meant for conducting more questionable, subcutaneous research than the usual tests. There was large machinery in here, and the steel-skinned tables, their drawers tightly locked, were neatly coated with boxes of disposable gloves, rows and rows of empty test tubes and jars, small piles of papers and files detailing results of the last few surgeries, amongst other things. Two large refrigerators stood side-by-side at the back of the room, their innards hosting a significant number of bottles, tubes, and small plastic bags, many filled with hazardous chemicals, others with things Brain would rather not pay attention to. Not that he could absorb much of what was in the room, seeing as his focus was almost entirely on Snowball. The hamster had somehow gotten hold of a small scalpel and was now brandishing it at Brain, taunting him, egging him on, and, foolishly, Brain took the bait.

He lunged; Snowball countered, easily. Bringing the scalpel down upon the x-acto knife, he swiftly shifted the weapon to tuck underneath the knife, lift it up, and send it flying out of Brain's hands. Three seconds. That was all it took. What Brain had been unable to accomplish in five minutes Snowball had achieved in only a fraction of the time. It was a testament to how unmatched they truly were, and Brain ran for his life.

Up a chair. Onto a counter. He could hear the slightly heavier patter of footsteps close behind as he hid amongst a table littered with test tubes, jars, and glass bottles of all shapes and sizes, like a house of mirrors. He picked a jar at random and hid behind it, clutching at his chest and doing his utmost to bring his heavy breathing down to a light whisper.

Snowball jumped up onto the table, expression set, his grasp tight on the scalpel.

"You can't hide from me, Brain!" he sneered, cautiously entering the labyrinth of empty vessels. Just because Brain hadn't any ammunition in hand a moment ago... didn't mean he hadn't reacquainted himself with one, and Snowball was taking no chances. "There is only so far you can go. You can't run from what haunts you!"

Behind the jar, Brain struggled to calm his shaking body. Confronting Snowball with a weapon in hand was one thing. Facing him without was quite another. Accosting him at all, he realized, had been moronic in itself.

"I know what haunts you. And you know it just as well as I, don't you, Brain?"

Eyes wide, Brain turned his head ever so slightly to the left. A shadow stood just behind the glass...

"There you are, old friend."

Brain jumped out of the way as the blade swerved downwards in one fell swoop to break the jar into a million pieces. He was down on all fours, all dignity forgotten as he raced in and out amongst the beakers, doing his utmost to stay one step ahead of Snowball... who cut and slashed through jars and bottles without remorse. He finally managed to hide behind a microscope, keeping himself as diminutive as he possibly could. His heart was pounding, fighting to burst out of his chest. How the heck did he get himself into these situations?

Snowball was back on the prowl, blind to Brain's location, but all the more determined to find him.

"He would have done anything for you, you know! Would have licked the dust at my feet, or jumped off the Barham if I'd asked him to. Must have been nice, having someone who would follow your every whim, your every desire. To have a friend who never left your side. But it was all just taken for granted by you, wasn't it? All part of your perfect, everyday life. Frankly, I don't know what you saw in such a lower life form. He was a nothing - an idiotic waste, created by nature to appease the instruments of destruction and pain in this room. We could've done so much more together, Brain. We could've been a force to reckon with..."

Brain's face was buried in his hands. Each word seemed to cut into him like a knife. He didn't even hear the footsteps as Snowball came up behind him.

"Brain..."

The little mouse jumped an inch into the air as he realized how close his nemesis actually was. He made to turn, but it was too late. Snowball had him pinned to the floor with the handle of the scalpel in a near-death grip. Brain squealed and struggled with all his might to get loose, but to no avail. Snowball's grip was simply too tight.

"Think of it, Brain!" the hamster sneered down at him, brows furrowed. "Together, we could do a hundred times more what you were able to do alone! The world deserves more than what it's been given. We could do it."

He loosened his hold on Brain ever so slightly, Brain taking in what little air he could. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out in this position, much less respond to any offer Snowball might propose.

"There's nothing for you here, Brain. Join me as a comrade... as an equal."

And he lifted the knife further, still just enough to keep Brain pinned, yet not so hard that he couldn't breath properly. Brain swallowed gulp after gulp of air gratefully, coughing a little as he looked up at Snowball. The latter actually had an arm extended. So he was offering something after all...

Brain coughed once more and breathed deeply.

"I was never... I was never alone...," he groaned, eyes closing for but a moment.

"What?"

Brain swallowed, steadied his breathing, then looked Snowball square in the eyes.

"I never... tried to take over the world alone. You did."

Snowball frowned.

"Pinky was a hundred times more than what you will ever be, Snowball. He was the greatest friend I ever could have asked for... and I didn't deserve him. I will never take your hand!"

He choked the words out, for he had to. He didn't know how else he could get past the pain of admitting them.

Snowball's frown deepened. He said nothing at first. It almost seemed as if he might let the whole thing blow over...

Brain gasped as the handle of the knife pressed down into his chest even deeper than before. He couldn't breath; could barely see...

"Then let your words seal your fate."

Brain's feet dug at the floor, struggling, writhing...

"Good-bye, Brain..."

Eyes shut tight, fists clenched, Brain steeled himself for what he was about to do...

With every last ounce of strength he had left in his body, he dug his feet under the handle of the knife... and PUSHED.

Snowball was knocked backwards as the scalpel went flying high into the air. Quickly, he righted himself, just as the knife descended to land squarely in Brain's paws. Snowball charged as Brain swung as hard and as fast as he could. Snowball GASPED, clutching feebly at his open chest as he collapsed to the ground in a pool of his own blood. He barely had time to register the fact that he was now dying, so suddenly had it happened.

Brain crumpled to the ground on his hands and knees, the scalpel falling with a sharp clatter beside him. Already he was creating his own pool: a pool of tears. He stared sadly at what had once been his closest friend. Snowball stared back, breathing heavily as what little life he had slowly drained out of him.

"I never stopped being your friend, Snowball," he wept. "You stopped being mine."

Something akin to remorse flashed across Snowball's eyes for half a moment as he gazed incredulously at Brain, then the light faded as he breathed his last... and was gone.

Brain hung his head, face buried in the surface beneath him as another wave of fresh tears soaked his fur. In a matter of hours, he'd lost the only two beings whom he'd ever been able to call friends. It was too much for him. Entirely too much.

/\/\/\/\

Sunlight streamed through a dusty window of Acme Labs, highlighting little nomadic particles as they drifted lazily about. Somewhere, a coffee maker went off, steaming hot espresso. The occasional crunch of a pellet and squeak of a wheel tickled the air. All throughout the laboratory, its residents, save for most of the rodents, were coming to life. But there was one who broke the routine - whose life was not awakening, but ending.

Brain sat on the edge of a table, staring out at the sun as it slowly rose above the window sill, warming his fur. In a cage nearby rested an empty bed, a water bottle, and an exercise wheel... as still as anything. After this morning there would be a vacancy - room for two.

Down the road from the lab, in a little park overlooking a quiet pond, was a new grave set on a grassy hill, right beneath an oak. Brain had actually taken the time to drag Pinky's limp figure all the way to the park the night before and bury him there. He couldn't bear the idea of his closest companion rotting in a garbage can, or being incinerated, or even being set beneath Acme soil. He wanted him to be somewhere beautiful - someplace that mirrored his heart. Snowball he did bury on Acme land, behind the building 'neath a tree. Despite everything he'd done, it still didn't sit well with Brain to leave him in the lab. To some degree, he still cared about him.

Brain closed his eyes peacefully, savoring the sun's pleasant rays. Near him lay an empty syringe. Already he was beginning to have a little trouble breathing. It wouldn't be long. A few minutes, perhaps. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't afraid. He was afraid, but he wasn't going to show it. He was going to enjoy these last moments in the sun.

A little behind him... lay a letter. It was hand-written, exposed for all to see. Who read it wasn't his concern. As long as at least one person acknowledged what he'd penned, that would be enough, even if he wouldn't be around to see it.

And so it read:

Dear World,

There was a time when I wanted to rule over you. I'm sorry that I never achieved this goal. I'm sorry that you never got to see all of the things I would have done for you. But perhaps that's for the best. Not all of my ideas were entirely sound, and my friend would not have approved of certain enactments. The world is altogether a very large and intimidating organism, and I am simply an old mouse with silly delusions of grandeur...

I don't quite know why I am writing this. Perhaps... it's in the hope that someone will remember, because he doesn't deserve to be forgotten. Please remember Pinky. He was my cage mate here at the lab, and he was the only true friend I ever had. If I could ask anything of whomever reads this, it would be that you pass on his heart to the world. Please. Try to be kind to other people. Try to make the world a better place. Try to do what I could not. He deserves that much.

Pinky, I'm so sorry I never told you... how much you mean to me. It was never truly about world domination, even though I would have relished that. It was never about power. That wasn't the real reason I kept going about my day, following my frivolous dreams. It was always about you. It was about making you happy. It was about spending those countless hours planning and plotting with you by my side. It was about... loving you. Pinky, you were my world.

I can't undo the things I've done. I can't rewind time and set right my wrongs. But I also can't bear the thought of living on this planet without him. My only hope is that, wherever I end up, it's with you, Pinky.

- The Brain

/\/\/\/\/\/\

When he awoke, there were clouds. Lots and lots of... clouds. Pink clouds. Yellow clouds. Blue clouds. Purple clouds. All different hues. All pastel-y and... quite beautiful. Interesting...

And there was music, too. Incredibly... beautiful... music. Where was it coming from? Brain looked down... and went wide-eyed. He pressed an ear to the grass beneath his feet. It was the grass. The grass was singing.

Gently, he stood up. He looked at his paws; felt his stomach, legs, and head. Nothing hurt. There were no aches. There was no pain. He could breath... He was breathing without any issue, and nothing hurt. In fact, he felt... wonderful - like he could run for miles and miles, endlessly, and never run out of breath. Incredible...

"Brain!"

He looked ahead of him at the sound. In the distance, someone was calling him, waving at him. A figure. He couldn't quite make out who it was, but they seemed to be about his size... and about his shape. Perhaps a little taller.

"Brain!"

He took a tentative step forward. The ground was delightfully soft beneath his feet. It was quite unlike any grass he had ever stood upon. He could feel every blade, but it was so, so soft, like a pillow. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply; just let himself... be. It was wonderful. And peaceful. So peaceful.

"Brain!"

He opened his eyes again as his name was called a third time. Finally, the figure came into view, and this time... he recognized him.

Brain gasped... and ran. He ran as fast as he could; faster than he had ever run before, or could ever run before. It was almost as if he was flying. It was exhilarating... and joyous... and oh so fun!

The figure ahead was running just as quickly. Brain smiled the biggest smile as he ran at full speed into his friend's outstretched arms.

"PINKY!"

They tumbled and rolled onto the soft, bouncy grass, smiling and laughing and crying. Brain nuzzled into his friend, hugging him tightly, with Pinky hugging him right back just as securely.

"Pinky... Pinky..."

"Oh, Brain! I missed you so. Narf!"

"I missed you too, Pinky. Oh, I missed you... so much..."

They stayed that way for a long time, simply hugging one another, enjoying each other's presence. Finally, when they stood, Pinky offered his hand to Brain.

"Would you like me to show you around, Brain?"

"Where are we?" he asked, taking Pinky's hand in his.

Pinky only smiled as he walked them forward... into the clouds... into the light...

The End

Author's Note: Originally, I was going to end it at Brain's note, but it was so sad that I decided to add the heaven scene. It was a moment that had gone through my head beforehand, yet I was unsure if I should implement it or not. I think the story needed it, though...

A lot of things fueled this story. I love the personalities of Pinky and Brain and wanted to put them in a pressured situation that would test them physically and mentally. The stories I tend to invest in the most are the ones in which my favorite characters are pushed to their limits, particularly in life-or-death moments. Brain, in particular, is an interesting individual to analyze. I feel rather bad for putting him through such hell, but I also have noticed that I'm not the only one who doles out buckets of angst and pain upon this poor little fellow. He has a crusty outer shell, but it hides a soft and caring heart that's much more emotional than he tries to let on. I was also inspired by fan fiction writer cresselia8themoon, who not only voiced the idea mentioned in the first author's note at the beginning of this submission, but who also presented their headcanon that Snowball had a crush on Brain in the past and so targets Pinky out of jealousy. I can legit see this being the case, and it adds much more to his character and why he does what he does, so I kind of implemented that here.

Much of this was very difficult to write, particularly dialogue scenes. The hardest to compose was probably the moment with Brain in the cage, as well as Pinky's death sequence. I wanted to keep them true to character while also pushing boundaries. I hope I accomplished this goal. Snowball was, by far, the easiest to write. His demeanor is deliciously Goldfinger-esque. I got a kick out of coming up with all his little taunts and jabs at Brain. I can see why actors enjoy playing villains. Heh.

The letter I pondered over and pondered over for days, trying to figure out in my head how to write it. However, when it finally came down to actually typing it out... it flowed naturally.

As an aside, here are some little factoids and a Q&A about the story:

- I have no idea how the heck that lightning machine works. I just needed an excuse to kill off Pinky. That being said, I did want it to be at Brain's own hand, even if it was inadvertently. The machine was created by Brain. For what purpose, I have no clue, save for that it has something to do with taking over the world, of course. The idea was that Snowball gets a hold of it somehow, alters it a little, and traps Brain in his own creation so as to get to Pinky. He wants Brain to suffer to the nth degree, and how he does so is very manipulative.

- I didn't realize until just now that Snowball technically tried to uphold his "fake" promise to Pinky by way of offering to Brain to take over the world with him. He's a psychopath, but he's a psychopath who keeps his promises...? Heh.

- Why doesn't Pinky get zapped when he picks Brain up? I dunno. Lol. Let's just pretend that he does, but he's so focused on Brain that it simply doesn't bother him. Also, Pinky is a lot more tolerant of pain, so perhaps he doesn't even notice?

- Ghost Pinky you can think of in these terms: Remember in Ratatouille when Remy imagined Gusteau as a little sprite popping up here and there? Yeah. That's what's going on in the cage scene.

- The part where Brain runs through the lab past other animals whom have been experimented on was inspired by a scene in the book, The Plague Dogs.

- An x-acto knife is an "artist's weapon", as I like to call it. My family and I are artists and would always keep one or two nearby in case we needed to carefully cut out a section of paper, but I used to joke that it would make a great weapon if someone ever tried to attack you. Look it up. They're freaky little things.

- The Barham is a bridge in L.A./Burbank that overlooks the 101 freeway.

- I'm not going to explain exactly how Brain killed himself, but you might be able to figure it out if you read between the lines.

- The bit where Brain and Pinky are in heaven is inspired by an actual book I read some time ago. I think it was called My Time in Heaven, and it's one of the most beautiful books I've ever read and made me cry. It's based on a real-life account of someone dying, going to heaven, and coming back. I think it was in this account that it was mentioned that music was coming from the grass. Amazing. 3