A/N: A rather long one-shot to serve as distraction/momentum stopper for my other Brian-centered story.

Length: 5,584 words, one chapter.

Warnings: Spoilers for season one.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters.

-Story Starts Here-

I run my fingers along the cool spine of the book. Deb is in the shed by the house, fully prepped for Dexter. He'll be here soon, within a few hours. Then he'll learn, he'll remember everything. It's all set. The time is near.

But the time is not now. I look around, bored and excited all at the same time. I'm sitting at the dining room table in my childhood home. The memories. I stand so I can walk around and stretch my legs. The floor board creeks. The walls are a faded yellow, more easily noticed now that there is ample light, rather than the darkness of last night. It's the same house, almost exactly how I left it, but time has still taken it's toll.

I walk over to the kitchen sink and run my finger across the rim of the metal. Size has also altered things. Me, this time, not the house. I remember as a child having to get a stool so that I can wash my hands at this sink. Now I have to bend down. I do bend down and wash my hands. For no particular reason, just to feel that sense of familiarity sharply contrasted with the feeling of change that I can't seem to escape.

I dry my hands with a nearby washcloth before straightening. I look around the house again, remembering. It's been so long since I've been here. I look at the hallway where me and Dex played cars. Under the kitchen sink where he liked to hide when we played Hide-and-seek, even though mom didn't like him there. The kitchen table that we would both hide under when mom was being unfair.

I return to the table. The book rests quietly on top of it. I place my hand gently on it, like it was an old bible and I was about to take an oath. I smile at the thought. It's the closest thing to a bible that I follow. And I do have an oath to take.

"I swear to help and protect my younger brother, Dexter Moser, through thick and thin, love and hate, until I draw my last breath", I say to no one in particular, but everyone in general. I stare down at the book. I remove my hand from it's old and beat up cover. It took a lot of work tracking this book down. I stare down at the crudely decorated cover. Glitter and hand prints adorn the once-classy chestnut brown cover. I remember the day that we made it.

Mom walks into the room holding a couple of bags. "You two will be together forever. Do you know that Brian?", she asks me as she sets the bags down on the coffee table. I'm sitting on the floor, holding Dexter as he watches TV. He is just a baby, that's what everyone says, but he's not just a baby anymore. He is eighteen months old. Walking and talking some too. Just not very well.

"I know mommy. I love Dexter", I tell her as I squeeze the more-than baby in my arms. He breaks his gaze on the TV and twists around to look at me. I smile at him. "Biney has you", I tell him with another hug. That is what he calls me. Biney. He can't quite say 'Brian'. Mom says I shouldn't call myself 'Biney', because then he'll never learn to say my name right. That's okay though, Dexter can call me Biney as long as he wants.

Mom doesn't correct me this time though. She just smiles down at us and reaches for the bags. "That's why I have a surprise for you", she says as she pulls out a book. "One day, you're going to look back at this book with Dexter when you are both all grown up." She says as she continues to pull items out of bags. Glue, paint, glitter. I stare at her, still confused. "Today, you're going to make a scrap book, so you can have a place to keep all the picture of you and Dexter", she finally explains. I like that. A picture book of us. Dexter looks between mom and me, not understanding most of what she just said

I stand up and grab his little hand in mine. "Come on Dexter, we have to color the book", I pull him up and towards our mom. She lays out a big piece of butcher paper for us to work on. She places all the supplies on it before kneeling down to our level and grabbing a bottle of glue and glitter.

"I'm going to put both of your names on it, but then you can add whatever you want.", she tells us as she carefully writes both our names in glue. 'Brian & Dexter' is soon written on the cover of the book in glitter. I look around, and spot the paint. I grab a red bottle and turn to Dexter.

"Let me see your hands", I tell him. He looks at me, still confused, but soon sticks out his hands. I squirt a little blob of red into his hand. "Now clap", I tell him while clapping myself. He does, and makes a face at the paint being spread around his hands. He laughs and claps more, until his hands are completely covered in red. "Now let me see your hands again", I tell him as I grab his right hand. He stops laughing and looks at me, wanting to know what I have planned.

I gently guide his hand to the cover of the book, leaving his bright red print in the upper right corner. He sees this and laughs at it, pointing to it and looking at me. "Loo Biney!", he slurs. 'Look, Brian', is what he wants to say. I laugh do the same myself, only with blue paint. My hand print in the upper left corner excites him even more. He is laughing and bouncing. He quickly loses attention of the book itself, and starts making prints on the paper under him. He crawls on his hands and knees like he use to do before he walked. A trail of red hand prints follows him, but soon the paint run out on his hands, leaving a thin, dry layer of red.

He stops crawling and sit once he notices this. He looks at his hands in a pout, but soon walks to me and hold his hands out again. I laugh. "Do you want more?", I ask him. He grunts and nods his head in response.

"Pease Biney?", he says, omitting the 'L' in 'Please'. I smile as I squirt more into his hands. He claps again and laughs as red drops fly onto the butcher paper. He looks at the fresh paint on his hands, thinking about what to do next.

He looks at me and deadpans. "What?", I ask him, not particularly expecting a response. His words are few and rare. He leans towards my face, hands stretched out. He shows me what he is thinking by pressing his hands to my face. I just close my eyes and hold my breath, allowing him to do anything he wants to me. Dexter has complete freedom when it comes to me. He pulls back and laughs.

"Loo momma!" He says to mom, pointing at my face.

"I see baby. Brian looks silly!", mom laughs as she grabs the camera to snap a shot of us.

I trace the hand prints made thirty years ago. Dexter's small, red print and my blue, larger print. I smile nostalgically down at it. I carefully lift the cover. It's an old book, I need to take care of it. I open it to the first page. It's in chronological order, just as our mother insisted. Dexter's and my almost OCD sense of tidiness is genetic. Everything had to be organized when it came to our mother. So I rest my finger on the first picture in the book, and the first picture of Dexter in his life. There is mom, sitting a chair at the hospital and holding Dexter. A little bundle of blue is all we can see really. I'm there too, leaning on the arm of the chair, looking down at my new baby brother. I smile. This was taken the very day Dexter was born.

Mommy is big. Her tummy is round, and she says there is a baby in there. She says that it's my little brother. I want to know how he got in there, or even where he came from, but mommy says she'll tell me when I'm older.

Daddy is here too. Mommy said daddy won't be around anymore, but he is. Daddy is mean sometimes, but sometimes he is nice. Not right now though. Right now daddy is yelling at mommy. They are talking about the baby. I feel sorry for him. He is stuck inside mommy's tummy. Mommy says he'll be out soon. I hope so, I wouldn't want to be stuck in mommy's tummy

"He is my son too!', daddy yells at mommy. I grab a toy car and roll it across the ground. It's not fun though. Nothing is fun when mommy and daddy are yelling. My poor little brother is stuck right in the middle too. I bet he is even sadder than me right now.

Mommy says I'll have to help with the baby. That I'm his big brother, and I'm going to have act like it too. I'm not sure what that means. How do I be a big brother?

"Oh my God! I think the baby is coming!", mommy yells. I look up at her and daddy.

"What? Really? Now?", daddy is surprised too. I stand and run over to them.

"My little brother going to get out of your tummy now?", I ask, excited. Daddy looks at me with mean eyes and doesn't answer.

"That's right Brian. That's why we need to the hospital now", mommy says as she sits down and looks at daddy. It's a grownup look. Mommy just told daddy something with her eyes. Daddy looks around and goes to grab a bag. The baby bag. Mommy always has it near, just in case the baby comes. I don't know why he can't call first. That way we wouldn't have to always be ready.

"Why do we have to go to the hospital? Is my little brother hurt?", I hope he isn't hurt. I don't know how to be a big brother and fix him if he is.

"No, Brian, the baby is fine. I just need a little bit of help to get him out", she tells me. Daddy walks up to mommy and helps her up. They walk outside and to the car. I follow. I hadn't thought about it, but how will the baby come out? How did he even get in there? And why? My little brother is going to be trouble, I can tell already.

Daddy helps mommy into the car and then he puts me in my seat too. He buckles me and gets into the driver's seat. Mommy is breathing really fast now. "Are you okay, mommy?", I ask. I know I have to be a good big brother, but my brother better not hurt mommy.

"I'm fine honey. It's just that it's going to hurt when he comes out", mommy tells me. Why would my brother hurt mommy? I don't like him. He's mean.

"But why will he hurt you mommy?", I ask again. This time daddy answers.

"Brian! Just shut up for ten seconds!", daddy yells at me. I sit back in my chair and try not to cry.

"Joe! Don't yell at your son! This is why I kicked you out. You are a horrible father!", mommy yells at daddy. Daddy is driving really fast, and I can't help it anymore. I begin to cry. Mommy and daddy are yelling, the car is going fast, other cars are honking and daddy is swerving the car a lot. I'm scared.

"Brian! Stop crying! I really can't deal with you too right now!", daddy yells at me again. I try not to cry, but I can't help it.

"Joe!", mommy begins to yell at daddy again. I wish they would stop. Mommy does stop though. She doesn't yell at Daddy. Instead she turns to me. "Brian, dear, listen up. You need to start being a big brother now. That means you have to be strong. No more crying.", she tells me in a calm voice. But soon she looks hurt again, and starts to say bad words. The baby is hurting her.

"No! I hate my brother. He doesn't do anything but make you big and hurt you!", I yell at her. I wish that baby wouldn't come. That the doctors could just get him out and throw him away. He's mean. He's hurting mommy.

Mommy would usually yell at me for saying that, but she just screams and yells more bad words. Stupid baby is hurting her.

There is a blue and red light, and a sound that goes 'Whoo-whoo-whoo'. It's a policeman, probably because daddy isn't driving right. Daddy says bad words and pulls over. I finally stop crying. Sometimes policemen come to my home. When they do, it's scary. The policeman talks to daddy, and soon we are driving again. The policeman is still following us in his car. It scares me, because I think maybe daddy is running from the policeman. I start to cry again.

But then we go to the hospital, and the policeman leaves. Daddy gets mommy out of the car, and some people come to help. They put mommy in a wheel chair. Daddy takes me out of the back, and follows mommy into the hospital. I don't know what to do, so I follow daddy. Doctors are around us. They take mommy into a room and daddy follows. I try to follow them, but a doctor doesn't let me go into the room.

"You have to wait out here little guy.", he tells me before giving me to a woman. She sits with me and doesn't say anything.

"Will mommy be okay?", I ask her. Mommy said she'll be fine, but she isn't a doctor.

The lady turns and smiles at me. "Your mommy is going to be fine. She is having a baby, and that can take awhile but soon you're going to a new little baby brother or sister.", she tells me.

"A brother", I tell her. "But I don't want him!", I remember what he is doing. He is hurting mommy.

"You don't want a little brother? Why not?", she asks me, as though it's not already obvious.

"Because he hurts mommy and makes her fat, and she eats a lot and-and", I ramble on about all the bad stuff he's done. And he's stuck in mommy's tummy now. Who knows what else he'll do once he is free. Maybe someone put him in there because he was such a bad boy.

But the lady laughs. "Silly, that's not his fault. He's just a baby. He doesn't want to hurt your mommy, or make her big. He's just a baby, and babies can't do anything on their own", she tells me. So, my brother doesn't want to hurt to mommy?

"So my brother is hurting mommy on accident?", I ask. She nods. I think about this. "So is that what I have to do to be a big brother? Help my little brother with everything?"

"Your mommy is going to do a lot of work, but you need to teach him stuff. It's your job to make sure that your little brother is happy and knows what is happening. Do you think you can do that?", she asks me. I nod. Yes, I can do that. I can help my little brother learn. I can make sure he is always happy and that no one is ever mean to him.

The nice lady gives me crackers and juice. I don't mean to, but soon I fall asleep. The nice lady wakes me up though. She says my brother is here, and asks if I want to meet him. I nod and she takes me into the room. Daddy is gone, but mommy is there, sitting in a chair. In her arms is a little blue bundle. I look at the nice lady, then at mommy. Mommy smiles at me. She holds a camera out to the nurse, who takes it. I walk over to mommy and lean against the arm chair so I can get a better look at the blue bundle. There is a little face inside. He has some blonde hair that I can see sticking out from the blanket that surrounds him.

"What's his name?", I ask mommy. I don't know why I never asked before. Probably because he wasn't around before.

"Dexter", she tells me. A flash goes off, but I don't look. I just keep staring at Dexter's little face.

I smile at my lost innocence. I look at the other pictures on the page. Some I vaguely remember, others not at all. Dexter lying next to me on mom's bed. I'm looking at him with anxious eyes, uncertain of how to deal with a newborn infant. Another of mom giving him a sponge bath and me watching in the background. I trace Dexter's infant face. So young and innocent. I flip the page. More pictures that I don't remember, but still make me feel warm on the inside. I flip through more pages, watching Dexter slowly grow up. Real memories don't even happen again until Dexter looks to be around six months. Even then it's fuzzy. A picture of us playing peek-a-boo. I have my eyes covered, and Dexter has a look of sheer astonishment on his face. A generic picture of me holding Dexter in my lap. I continue on the pages. I stop at the sight of me, roughly four years old, and Dexter, appearing to be almost one. I'm helping Dexter stand up by holding his hands and supporting his weight. He's looking down at his feet, getting the idea of walking.

Mom is in the living room with Dexter. "Come here, walk to mommy. Come on Dex, you can do it.", she chants, encouraging Dexter to walk to her. Dexter is just a few feet away, standing with the support of the coffee table. He is just wearing a light green shirt and his diaper. It's too hot for pants. That's what mom said this morning. I asked if I could not wear my pants today too, but she said no. That big boys have to wear pants, even if it's hot.

Dexter isn't a big boy. He can't walk yet. He crawls around like a dog. I don't mind, but mom wants him to walk. She says that everyone needs to learn to walk. That is why she is trying to get him to walk now. But Dexter just sit downs and crawls to her. Mom smiles and hugs him, but is clearly unhappy.

"It's okay. You don't need to walk just yet", she tells Dexter, even though he is still just a baby and doesn't know what she is saying.

"If he doesn't need to walk, then why are you trying to get him to walk?", I ask her. It just doesn't make sense.

"Look at him. He wants to walk. He just doesn't know how", she tells me. I look at Dexter. He is just sitting in mom's lap, looking back me. He's thinking baby thoughts. Mom says that he knows nothing, so he has to learn everything. That he isn't stupid, he just doesn't know. I've never thought about it before, but she is right. Dexter doesn't know anything. That's why I have to teach him.

"Come to Brian, Dexter", I tell him, gesturing for him to come to me. He looks up at mom and doesn't seem willing to leave her lap. Mom just smiles and strokes Dexter's hair. "Come on Dexter. You can walk. You just put one leg in front of you, then the other", I tell him, walking a few feet myself to show him how it is done. His brown eyes follow me with interest. He crawls out of mom's lap and stands on his own. He wobbles slightly, but stays up.

Encouraged, I continue. I kneel down and gesture for to come to me. "Come on Dexter. It's easy", I say, waving him towards me. He looks down at his bare feet and back up to me. He takes one step and wobbles a lot. I think he's even going to fall, but he steadies himself. He takes another steps, and I smile. I just taught my little brother how to walk.

Only not quite. On his third steps, he does fall. He lands face first into the carpet. Both me and mom are quiet, waiting to know if he'll cry. But he just moves into a sitting position. He crawls the rest of the way to me. That's okay, he doesn't have to know everything right away. I grab his hands and pull him up into a standing position. I gently sway from side to side, his hands still in mine.

"You did it! Kind of", I congratulate him. He just stares up at me with his look. The stare that means he's learning the simple things. He looks down and stares at his feet. There is a bright flash as mom takes a picture.

It wasn't until a few months later that he did really start walking. He was thirteen months when he really started to walk. I continue on in the book. Dexter and me eating cookies. There is one of us walking TV. I flip through more pages. There is the picture of me and Dexter making this book. The one where I have his hand prints on my face. I smile, but continue on in my journey through time. I pause at another picture. Me, around five years old, and Dexter, around two, covered in mud, standing on our front porch, our heads bowed in shame.

"Look , Biney! Look!" Dexter is jumping around, pointing out the window. Mom is at the table, drinking Coffee. She doesn't like the mornings. I do, and so does Dexter. I walk over to my little brother to see what he is so excited about. I look outside for the first time today. It rained last night, so everything is wet. This is normal, it rains a lot. But I know what Dexter is thinking. Mom will be mad, but she isn't paying any attention right now. She is too busy with a magazine and her coffee. I smile at Dexter, telling him I'm in.

We sneak towards the door. I carefully open it, being as quiet as possible. Dexter goes out first, then I follow, closing the door just as carefully. I turn to the world outside. Everything is wet, and this includes the dirt. Two flying brown globs hit me, one in the chest, the other hits the side of my face. I squeak and Dexter laughs. I smile and run down the steps after him. I scoop up a ball of mud and take aim. He laughs and I throw. He dives down like a pro and slides in the mud. When he stands, his entire belly and face is brown. We both laugh. More mud flies between us. I tumble and roll in the mud too. Soon we are both completely filthy.

"Brian Moser!", echoes out. I flinch and let the current mud in my hand fall to the ground below with a quiet plop. Mom is mad. I look bad at Dexter, who looks just as worried as I am. I don't know why, he never gets punished, it's always just me. I'm suppose to be the responsible one. That's what mom says. "Get over here now!", mom continues. I walk slowly towards her until I'm standing on the porch, head down, just a few feet away from her. Dexter follows me. He stands beside me, mirroring my pose. He's not going to get in trouble, so I don't know why he is acting this way. Mom's feet move away and back into the house. She'll be back soon, so I don't move.

"What are looking sad about? You're not in trouble. I am", I ask Dexter. I glare at him. He always gets off without even a warning.

"But I don't like it when you get in trouble. We're brothers Biney", comes his soft reply. My anger leaves. He wants to take the punishment with me. He doesn't want me to suffer alone.

Mom's footstep's return, and both our heads snap back down, and we get that sorry look on our faces again. There is a bright flash as mom takes our picture.

Dexter may not remember we're brothers right now, but soon he'll remember. I flip another page. These pictures I remember. Us in the park, on the slide, in the sandbox, me in a tree and Dex looking up at me. All happy times. Real times too, there is very little posing, and mostly just natural scenes. Not like the Morgan photo album. I remember when I took a look around Dexter's apartment and found it. Fake smiles everywhere. What else to expect from a fake family?

I flip another page to a bitter-sweet moment. Dexter is hugging me tightly, tear stains on his check, and I'm hugging him back. It was my first day of school. I can tell because I'm wearing my purple backpack and I'm standing in the pick-up zone of my old school.

"Please don't go Biney", Dexter pleads. I have school today. My first day. We've been to daycare before, but Dexter has always come with me. Now it's different. I look at my little brother longingly. I wish I could stay, but mom says I have to go. I ask her when he can come with me. She said in three years, and even then we won't be together at school.

I hug Dexter. "I'm sorry Dexter, but mom says I have to", I tell him as I let go of him.

"Nooo...No, Biney, no", he continues to beg. His eyes are glassy and he is about to cry. I feel so bad about leaving him. I hug him again. Mom ushers me out the door, and I walk towards the bus stop. I look back one last time. Dexter is standing on the porch, looking betrayed and hurt. I'm sorry Dex. I'll never leave you if I can help it, and I'll always, always, come back to you.

I get on the bus. Children are laughing and talking. I pull my backpack closer and look out the window. My house is blocked by another house, so I can't see anything, but I can imagine it. Dexter is probably crying right now. He was seconds away from it when I left.

"Hi", a blonde girl greets me. "My name is Jessica. This is Robert, and this is Jeff, and this is Mary", she introduces to me each of her friends, none of who are paying attention. I can barely pay attention myself though. I don't really care about her. I want Dexter. "What's your name?", she finally asks. I don't even think about the question though.

"Dexter", I say more to myself than her. I can't stop thinking about Dexter. I hope he's alright.

"That's a nice name, Dexter", Jessica says. Oh. She thinks I'm Dexter.

"My name is Brian. Dexter is my brother", I correct her. She looks confused.

"Then why'd you say your name is Dexter?", she asks, tilting her head to the side. I don't pay her anymore attention though. I slide in the seat across from her and look out the window. Dexter. I hope you're not crying too much. I sigh. I wish I could go home now.

We get to school and some grownups show me where my classroom is. They tell me I have to go here every day. I get sad at that thought. I don't want to go here every day. I want to be with Dexter everyday.

I walk into the room. Unlike the bus, everyone here is my age. Most look scared. Some seem happy though, running from kid to kid, talking to them quickly before moving on. Jessica isn't here. She must have been older than me.

"Hello", a woman upfront says to me. "Come here. Sit on the carpet please", she instructs me. I sit down on the rug in front of her, along with all the other kids. "Shush class. It's time we begin", she says softly. After a few more minutes, the room gets quiet. "Alright, now I want everyone to introduce themselves and say a little something about themselves. I'll start. My name is Miss J., my favorite color is yellow, and I love fish. Alright, now you go", she says, pointing to a brown haired kid with freckles and glasses. He introduces himself and then the person next to him does the same.

I don't pay attention. I can't. I hope Dexter is okay. I've been away for a while now. "Pssst, it's your turn", a girl next to me says to me. I look around and see that everyone is staring at me. I'd normally be embarrassed, but I can't worry about myself at a time like this. How can I worry about myself when Dexter is crying at home.

"My name is Brian Moser, I like the color purple, my favorite food is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and I have a little brother called Dexter who is only two years old and is probably crying himself to death at home because I left him there even though he begged me not to go", I say in all one breath. I have so much more to say, but the teacher cuts me off.

"Wow, it seems like you're a very good big brother", she says. I get mad.

"No, I'm a bad big brother. If I was a good big brother, I wouldn't have ever left him, but I did, and that's why I'm such a bad big brother, because I need to stay with him and protect him and-"

"Whoa, calm down. You're the best big brother I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot. You can't always be with your little brother, but if you always care this much, then you'll be a great big brother", she tells me before gesturing to the next kid to start. I don't pay attention again. Is that right? A big brother only has to care? But what if he doesn't ever do anything, and just wants to do something? Miss J. doesn't make any sense.

The rest of the day goes by. There is recess, but I don't play with anyone. I just sit there, worrying that Dexter can't play alone. Then story time, but I don't listen, I'm too busy thinking about Dexter. Followed by snack time, but I'm not hungry, the thought of Dexter having to eat alone makes me sick. Then nap time, but the image of Dexter crying himself to sleep keeps me up.

Finally it's pick-up time. I stand there, waiting for mom to get here. I really need to get home and make sure Dexter is okay.

"Biney!", a soft voice yells. I turn towards it just in time to see Dexter's face before he buries it in my chest. He hugs me tighter than I thought a two year old could hug. But I still hug him tighter, because a five year old can hug tighter than a two year old. He sighs contently, not letting me go.

"Dexter missed you", mom says as a flash goes off.

I can't even begin to imagine how Dexter took the news that he'll never see Biney again. But that was just one of the many lies Harry told him. I flip another few pages. Empty pages. All the rest are empty. I frown at getting forced out of my happy past and back into cold, hard reality. The reality that mom died, and that we were separated. I never got to hold Dexter's hand as we walked to the bus stop together, for his first day of school, or to help him with his homework. I never got to watch him grow into a child. Or an adult. I never got to see him graduate from elementary school and welcome him into high school. Never took him to a high school party to hook up with a high school slut. Or to do that same thing over again, only in college.

Memories never to be made, stolen by Harry. The one who separated us, caused our mother's death, planted lies deep in Dexter's head, and died before I could get my revenge for it all.

I close the book and stand up. I walk through the house. Harry may have stolen Dexter from me, but it's time to get him back. I smile as I stare out the window at my little brother walking into our old yard.

Soon, little brother, soon you'll have these memories too.