Author's Note: Yes, I know that it's been ages since I've posted something, and yes, I know that I have an unfinished fic that's long overdue for an update. I just had to get this up first, a quick little oneshot inspired by the amazing new episode Stewie is Enceinte. Don't fret, though, BRY, Robot has not been forgotten. In fact, I'm going to start working on the next chapter again within the next few days of posting this story. I had some down time, but I never intended to stop writing fic. Your patience shall be rewarded, and I want to thank you all for sticking with me, my amazing loyal readers. You have no idea how much it means to me. I hope you enjoy my latest story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Family Guy or any of these characters.

Meditations on Children

Brian Griffin couldn't sleep.

How could he? After all he'd just been through and experienced, a whirlwind of thoughts rushed through his head, the weight of which almost threatened to give him a migraine.

He sat up and gripped his head, groaning. He opened his eyes and gazed out the nearby window. It was pitch black aside from the faint glow of the nearby street lamp by the sidewalk. He considered getting up to go sit by the window but finally opted against it.

He shook his head a few times, trying desperately to clear it. No luck. Never before had he been so emotionally confused, and that was really saying something. He wanted to chuckle at it all, brush it aside and start fresh. After all, he'd done that plenty of times before. Why not now?

But, no, this was different. He looked over at the body lying beside him, clad in a blue sleeper, clutching at the blanket, the biggest smile ever planted across his face, a perfect vision of contentment and comfort.

Brian should hate him. He should want to never see him again. He should have put an end to their interactions long ago. ...But, he couldn't. He didn't hate Stewie. Stewie was his best friend, his partner. He couldn't bare the thought of separating from him completely. Shit, he could barely stand the thought of going a week without the kid or a few days, for that matter. So, no, he couldn't push Stewie away, no matter how much he may think he should. To lose Stewie would be to lose a piece of himself.

The dog smiled but, then, quickly rolled his eyes at the thought.

No. Stop it. Stop thinking about him like that!

He collapsed back into the pillow and sighed.

Why me? I'm willing to bet there's not a single person in the world who has to put up with the shit that I do. Why couldn't I have just been a normal dog? Life would be so much easier.

He folded his arms up under his head and gazed up at the ceiling, lost in thought. They had kids now. Him and Stewie were parents to the same children. He still hadn't wrapped his mind around it. It was absolutely ludicrous.

He could get past everything else. He could comprehend things like time travel and the kid being a genius, the creator of the universe. It had always been complete insanity. Knowing Stewie had never been normal, but this… What even was this, now?

They were still friends, obviously, but is that really all his relationship with Stewie could be classified as? Friendship? It was the term he was the most comfortable with, but in light of the circumstances, it just didn't seem sufficient in covering all the nuances of their partnership.

And, really, looking back on their history, that hadn't been the case for quite some time. He'd known that. No matter how deeply that knowledge was buried, he had to have known that! The signs were all there, and he ignored them.

No, Stewie shouldn't have done what he'd done. It was wrong and borderline evil, but Brian knew some fault lay with him, too. If he had just talked with Stewie about things, laid some ground rules the minute he'd started to notice strange behavior from the child, this could have all been avoided. And not just the regular strange behavior like the inventions and just genuine intelligence, but the completely inappropriate sexual behavior, the constant flirting and hinting that the child had been into him. He could have put a stop to that, but no, he ignored it.

...And now they have kids.

Granted, there was no way he could have seen this situation coming even in his wildest nightmares. That moment when Stewie had come to him, looking all proud before telling him that he was pregnant with their child, that had been the most shocking and surreal moment of his life. (Well, maybe that was tied with the moment Stewie actually gave birth, but it was still the same situation.)

God, this was just too much. When Stewie had told him about being pregnant, he had felt such a strange cocktail of emotions. There had been the obvious shock. There had been fear, fear for both himself should anyone find out and fear for Stewie since he had no idea how the young boy being pregnant was even possible and whether or not it was safe. The fear for himself had probably won out in the moment, though, and really, it was a silly fear to have. No one would ever believe it, even if he had told them, and the fact of the matter was all the Griffins were so oblivious that not a single one noticed the baby's...well, baby bump, let alone the hybrid children that had been in their home for a few days.

It had been an easy thing to hide because they didn't even have to try to hide it at all.

It was like Stewie was always the baby to them, no matter what they saw or heard. It was just sweet, innocent baby Stewie. It had always been that way, sometimes to both his and Stewie's frustration. And, after watching the boy go through a whole pregnancy and birth without a single inquiry from the family, he now knew without a doubt that there was absolutely nothing that Stewie couldn't get away with. The family had blinders on when it came to the brilliance of their youngest. So, no, he had no reason to be afraid of people finding out. He and Stewie could get away with anything.

The dog shook his head vigorously.

No! Stop it! Don't even think about that!

He wanted to slap himself but didn't just in case the noise would be enough to wake the child sleeping next to him. Instead, he just slammed his head down into the pillow a few times, forcing his mind on a different train of thought.

It eventually landed back on the moment he had been thinking about previously. He remembered being angry. Looking back, though, he wondered why he hadn't been angrier. It wasn't like he had been absolutely fuming and pissed off. Yeah. He had hit Stewie in the hopes of causing a miscarriage, but that had been a gut reaction, a desperate attempt to just end things before they even began. He had been more annoyed than furious, maybe somewhere in between.

Hurting Stewie wasn't the point, though. He'd just been desperate. He couldn't process everything then. Hell, he could barely process anything now. After that moment, he had resolved to try and ignore it. He had thought that maybe Stewie would see some sense and call the whole thing off. He had been stupid for thinking that. Stewie had been determined.

Brian would never admit it to anyone, but he actually admired that. For being so young, Stewie had handled the pregnancy pretty well, for the most part. You had to give him some credit for that.

He still couldn't have done it alone, though.

Once the dog had realized that, he knew he couldn't ignore it. He had to be there. Stewie had needed him more than ever, and he couldn't just sit by and watch the child struggle. He loved the little demon too much.

So, he gave in, and soon he was at the pregnant toddler's side for everything, there for his every beck and call, the perfect image of a caring person assisting their pregnant partner, obvious annoyance and sarcastic quips aside.

He and Stewie weren't a couple, but they might as well have been for that whole period.

The scary thing about it all, though, the part that Brian kept coming back to, the part that he kept hoping would just go away, was the fact that, as he looked back and recalled the whole incident, none of it really seemed that bad. Sharing that experience with Stewie had not been completely awful. But dammit! It should have been, shouldn't it!? It should have been absolutely traumatic! It should have been something that finally made him decide to stop hanging out with Stewie!

That's not how I feel at all, though! Only a few hours ago I admitted that I ALWAYS want to hang out with him! I love being with him. I'm at my happiest with him, no matter how weird or insane things get. It just feels right to be around Stewie.

This was something he had known for a while. He'd come to Stewie for comfort when he knew no one else would do. He'd admitted to loving the boy on multiple occasions. Stewie had been a vital part of his life for awhile now, but it was only just now that he seemed to be realizing just how important the child was to him, just how much he needed him and desired to be around him.

It scared him shitless. Surely he was mad. No one should ever be this attached to a baby, for fuck's sake! He knew it was wrong, at least in his head he did. It was wrong based on a multitude of factors, but on an emotional level, nothing had felt more right or enticing in his whole miserable life.

The only solace he could find was the simple fact that Stewie was not just any baby. He was brilliant, so very smart beyond his years. He was probably the most mature out of all the Griffins. He certainly had the most common sense, most of the time. Still, though, he was so young, no matter how mature he was in the head. Surely just being smart didn't make what Brian was feeling and questioning any less heinous...did it? The dog looked at Stewie again.

Why couldn't you have just been a normal kid?

He felt his eyes watering slightly at the thought. He wiped them and turned to lay on his side, gaze never leaving the sleeping boy. He began whispering.

"What if you had just been a normal kid? You probably wouldn't be such a huge pain in my ass, right?"

He chuckled, but a smile never formed. There was nothing funny about this. He felt like he was losing his mind piece by piece.

"No. You probably wouldn't be, but even knowing that, I would never wish for you to be normal. I don't want to give this up for anything. Am I crazy? Yeah, I probably am, but I like what we have, Stewie. I'm not sure where I would be without it. You're amazing, and I'm much better off with you than without. But...this has just gone too far. I know you'd say that it hasn't, but you're just too young to understand."

He caught himself reaching for the child's hand and stopped just in time, balling his paw into a fist instead.

"No. That's not true, is it? You're young, but you're perfectly capable of understanding. I wouldn't be as close to you as I am if that weren't true. Most of the time, I don't even think of you as a baby, honestly. Should I consider that more? Should it matter? I'm so confused, Stewie, but I'm afraid that talking about it with you will only make things worse. I know what you want. I know that you'll try and convince me that there's nothing wrong. I just don't know whether or not I should believe you."

He sighed.

"I just can't talk about this with you. I can talk to you about anything else, absolutely everything under the sun, except this, and it blows because, right now, this is all I can think about and it's driving me batshit bonkers! I have no one to turn to, and I can feel these emotions just eating away at me, draining me. I don't know how much more I can take. I don't know if I'll ever figure this out. I don't know if an answer even exists!"

He hadn't realized that he was slowly raising his voice until just now. The dog tensed up, growing completely silent as he waited to see if the boy would be stirred from his sleep after that outburst.

Several seconds slowly ticked by, and the child remained sound asleep, still clutching his blanket, still smiling. Brian exhaled in relief.

...A part of him was wishing that the infant had woken up, though.

If Stewie was awake right now, he could see himself actually opening up and telling him all of this, not just having this silly one-way conversation with the child's sleeping form. He knew by morning, that wouldn't be the case, though. He'd let it all go back to normal, bottling it all up, wearing his mask of impassivity, too afraid to reveal too much to the boy, who was now surely extremely hopeful for so much more between them.

That was yet another factor that made this whole situation difficult. Stewie meant so much to him. The last thing he wanted to do was break the boy's heart, especially after all that the child had done for him, all the sacrifices.

The dog knew it wasn't easy being close to him, but no matter what, Stewie was always there, no matter what bullshit Brian had made him put up with in the past.

And, if the canine was honest with himself, there had definitely been a ton of bullshit. He didn't always treat Stewie right. The reasons for that were many, some better than others but none good. Stewie always cared, though, had always gone above and beyond to help where he could, had saved his life, brought him back from the dead, apparently.

Brian felt a lump forming in his throat and gulped. He still hadn't told Stewie about that, about how he had actually died and only been saved due to the actions of another version of Stewie from another timeline. It was still Stewie, though, this amazing individual lying so peacefully next to him.

The boy cared for him that much, needed him that much, and it took the dog's breath away, left him speechless. He could hardly stand it. Surely, Stewie had earned a chance, especially when there was a chance that he felt similarly, right? The dog shook his head and rolled onto his back again.

"I wish I knew."

He laid there in silence, eyes shut and hoping to drift off to sleep, but it was useless. His mind kept wandering back to the recent events during Stewie's pregnancy, all of their little outings in preparation for being parents.

Jesus, there was no way that was ever going to sound even remotely normal.

Why am I even trying to make sense of this nonsense?

The dog didn't drop the matter, though. His contemplations continued.

Those outings had been extremely uncomfortable. I mean, how could they not? He was out and about with a pregnant infant. Luckily for him, there were so many morons in Quahog that hardly anyone bothered questioning it.

That initial visit with Dr. Hartman had almost been a disaster, though, easily the most stressful moment for him during the whole pregnancy. Brian had told Stewie to tell the doctor he was eighteen, but Stewie kept claiming that telling him he was that old would be too much of a stretch, something Brian didn't understand because, as far as he could tell, Stewie had passed for much older before. He had practically begged the boy, but as soon as he was asked about his age, the kid had, for some reason, answered by claiming to be thirteen years old. Yeah, that was a lot better than fucking one, but surely, Stewie knew better, knew that saying something like that could have gotten him arrested and labeled a sex offender. Brian's heart had stopped then. Granted, Stewie didn't exactly look at ease, either, so he must have been worried, too. Maybe he just wasn't sure what he could get away with when dealing with a supposed trained medical professional. Who the fuck knew? He eventually settled on his age being fifteen, and for some miraculous reason, the doctor had bought it. That still wasn't legal, but Hartman had seemed fine with it and Brian wasn't exactly going to complain about that, whatever kept him out of a jail cell.

But, no, seriously, what the hell, Hartman?

Brian opened his eyes and sat up again, stretching and rolling his shoulders to bring some life back to his limbs. If his brain wasn't going to relax, the rest of his body wasn't, either. He looked back at Stewie.

"How did we get away with it, kid?"

Looking back on everything, Brian couldn't figure out how nobody had seen the obvious. Sure, he was damn lucky they didn't, but it was also kind of frustrating that it had been so easy. Those initial trips out into town had been absolutely nerve-wracking, to say the least, driving Stewie everywhere he needed to go, hopping from store to store to procure various items they needed then and in the future, going above and beyond to satisfy the boy's strange and unpredictable cravings. The dog had been so on edge, worried out of his mind, a stark contrast to his cool and collected partner. Aside from that visit to the hospital, Stewie never seemed worried in the slightest. It was honestly pretty annoying but also kind of impressive, too. Where did that confidence come from? Stewie truly was a wonder.

Brian smiled and looked down to see his paw wrapped around Stewie's hand.

His eyes went wide, and he went stiff. He couldn't even recall grabbing the child's hand. He thought about letting go...but he couldn't. He sighed and ran a finger over the back of the small hand instead, caressing it.

You're going to be the end of me, aren't you?

Maybe that was a little morbid, but this hold Stewie had on him was absolutely terrifying. It seemed like, no matter how hard he fought, the boy was slowly drawing him in closer and closer. Was there even a point in fighting? Would he even be satisfied if he won? He sat there for a moment longer before shrugging.

Fuck it.

The canine scooched himself closer so he didn't have to reach as far and, then, came to rest against the back of the crib, continuing to stroke Stewie's hand as he lost himself in thought once more.

It was rough being out there with Stewie, at first, but then, slowly, day by day, Brian just didn't worry about it anymore.

For a while, it was basically routine: wake up, check on Stewie, get ready for the day, find out what Stewie needed and then spend the day running around wherever they needed to go, come home, go to bed in Stewie's room, repeat. Brian had gotten used to that. He'd been comfortable with that. There was only one instance in particular that really stuck out from that routine...

For some reason, Stewie had wanted to go to a professional photography studio to have pregnancy pictures taken. The dog remembered actually fighting him on this for a while, too, but of course, just like with everything else, he had given in, eventually. He just couldn't say no to Stewie for long. So, before he knew it, they were in a studio, getting professional pregnancy pictures taken.

The doctor's visit had been the most stressful part of the pregnancy, but that photo shoot had easily been the most...awkward. Stewie getting pictures taken of just himself had been weird enough. It had seemed so wrong seeing Stewie naked and posing for the camera like that, not that the kid hadn't looked pretty damn good for being pregnant and the pictures had turned out alright…

Wait. What!?

He did not just think that.

His paw released the infant's hand, and he moved to create as much distance between them as possible in the small crib. He shivered and gulped. That was the first time he had acknowledged that.

What was wrong with him?

He turned and looked at the large framed photo on the wall, the one that had been from that shoot, the one that Stewie had insisted upon hanging despite all of Brian's protesting. That image right there should have made his stomach churn. It should make him want to run to the bathroom and vomit. It didn't, though. It just didn't. If anything, he admired it. It was a brilliant picture of Stewie. A lot of that had to do with the photographer, of course, but Stewie was the only person he knew that could pull off such a dignified and majestic image like that. It wasn't sickening. It was beautiful. Stewie was beautiful.

Brian's paws came up to grip the sides of his head.

I think he's beautiful. I think Stewie's beautiful. I freakin' think Stewie is beautiful!

He was breathing heavily, his head down, practically curled into himself as he repeated that thought over and over in his head, waiting to come to his senses, waiting for it to sound messed up or at least just a little off. That moment never came, and his body shook in frustration. It was an honest thought. He couldn't deny that. He raised his head and looked back over at Stewie. He chuckled darkly and began whispering,

"I bet you'd be so proud of yourself, if you knew. I mean, you've only been trying forever to make me see you as beautiful. Well, congratulations, Stewie. You did it. You somehow did it. I have no idea how, but yes, I admit it. I think you're beautiful."

He sighed, shaking his head as he continued to mull over this new revelation. Eventually, though, he found a saving grace...or at least he thought he did.

"I may think you're beautiful, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm, like, attracted to you or anything. At least, I don't think it does…"

That made sense, right? There were plenty of things Brian could see the beauty in but that in no way aroused him. There were works of art that he'd consider beautiful. That didn't make them erotic in any way. He wasn't...interested in Stewie, at least not in that way. No. There was no way.

Why am I even considering this?

He sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. After about a minute, he turned around and hopped out of the crib. He walked over to the rug on the floor and pulled it up to reveal the child's hidden safe. He knelt down to open it. He already knew the combination. Stewie had told him about it recently. The kid figured that it was only fair that they both have access to the pictures from that shoot. Brian never figured he'd need it, though.

It was amazing how little he actually knew himself…

Once the safe was open, the dog reached in and pulled out a photo album, Stewie's photo album. He began flipping through it. There were all kinds of pictures in there. At the front, they mostly consisted of pictures he'd taken while working on some invention, either that or they were pictures of him and Rupert, but as Brian turned the pages, he watched as pictures of himself and Stewie began to appear, at first only a few but, then, more and more until whole pages were taken up with pictures of them.

He wasn't even sure how or when Stewie had taken some of these pictures, but the canine could feel his heart swelling as he looked through them, a small smile gracing his lips as he allowed the images to take him on a journey through some of their more special moments. He even almost forgot why he'd gotten up to get the photo album in the first place, but then, he reached the pictures from that photoshoot. The smile fell away.

Oh, Stewie…

Most of the pictures were of the child alone, and in all of them you could see how seriously he was taking everything, the pride he was feeling. It exuded from these shots. It was remarkable. Brian felt the exact same way looking through all of them as he did when he looked at that one framed photo in particular. It wasn't the framing or the lighting or any of that technical crap that captivated Brian.

It was Stewie, just Stewie.

The dog shook his head before analyzing the pictures further, trying to determine if they seemed erotic to him in any way at all. It didn't take long to catch a glance of one of the pictures he himself was in. He focused in on that one and switched his train of thought.

He thought back to the photoshoot and to taking pictures with Stewie and how he'd felt during it all.

Miserable. Uncomfortable. Exposed. Confused.

Those were the words that came to his mind as he looked at the pictures he himself was in. You could even see it right there in his expressions. A select few were more obvious than others, but it was still right there, plain as day. He had tried to keep a blank face, but it was obvious that he had failed horribly. It was amazing that Stewie had yet to question him on his expressions in these pictures. Maybe he was just trying to spare him the grief of pointing it out. If so, there it was again, Stewie looking out for him, putting him first.

Why does he care about me so much? What did I ever do to deserve that kind of devotion from anybody?

Brian couldn't dwell on this, though. Despite his best efforts to remain glum, he couldn't help but crack a smile and laugh a little bit as he continued to look at the pictures of them. Ok, yeah, in the moment when those pictures were being taken, he had wanted to be anywhere else but there, but now, actually taking the moment to observe them after some time had passed, he couldn't deny that they were kind of funny, just the juxtaposition of his looks of dread next to Stewie's serious, prideful, and joyful countenance.

Jeez, Brian, why did you even agree to be in the pictures if you were going to look that dead inside?

Funny enough, his misery wasn't enough to make the shots look pathetic or anything. Stewie had contained enough enthusiasm for the both of them, apparently. It was kind of cute, honestly.

Brian turned his attention to the first picture, the one with his head lying on Stewie's bulging belly. If you didn't know he was an atheist, it would seem like the canine was begging some higher power to strike him down right there, either that or wondering what in the world he had done to deserve this fate. It was the quintessential "Why me?" look. Meanwhile, Stewie was just basking in the moment, a graceful pose that conveyed a worry-free attitude without discounting the significance of the moment.

...To him. The significance of the moment to him.

The dog moved on to the next one.

Jesus, I look so fucking sad in this one.

It was the picture where he was standing behind Stewie with an open window as a backdrop. The dog looked like, if the window had actually been there, he would have gladly jumped out and ran far away. Stewie, on the other hand, was sitting down, indian style, clutching his baby bump, gazing down at it pensively. Brian couldn't help but think he was just dragging Stewie down by being in this picture. It should just be focusing in on Stewie. He was so out of place there in the back.

He looked up and turned his eyes toward the boy sleeping in his crib. Stewie never looked more his actual age than when he was asleep. He stared for a moment and, then, looked back down at the photo.

It was like night and day. It just didn't seem possible that the person in this picture was the same one sleeping so soundly just across the room from him.

How could that be? How could Stewie look so sweet and innocent one moment but perfectly normal sporting a pregnant belly the next? It defied all reasoning. Then again, pretty much everything about Stewie defied all reasoning.

The canine reached up to scratch an itch behind his ear before looking at the next photo of him and Stewie. Ah. This one. How in the world had he been talked into that pose?

In the photo, he was holding Stewie. The boy was facing the camera as the dog held him against his chest, his paws placed over the child's belly forming a heart. For some reason, seeing this image made him want to blush, but he fought it down despite nobody being there to see him. If he recalled correctly, he hadn't even really protested against this picture. He still felt weird doing it, but really, during that whole photo shoot, he had been unusually compliant, pretty much on autopilot as he just went along with whatever the photographer suggested.

Ok, maybe it wasn't that unusual. He had just acknowledged how hard it was for him to say no to Stewie, but seriously, he just went along with everything! It bugged him a little bit. It should have bugged him more, he felt.

This was the first picture where he and Stewie were actually looking at each other. The dog saw his face and was instantly brought back to that moment, the mixture of emotions he was feeling. Stewie was gazing up at him with a look of pure adoration. It was adorable. There was simply no other way to put it.

It certainly didn't help that the child had paired that look with the action of brushing his hand across the canine's face. Brian remembered fighting hard to suppress a shiver when Stewie's hand had rubbed against his fur. He remembered feeling frightened and unsure of how he should regard the action. Stewie being so close and looking at him so lovingly had been way too much to handle.

The dog shuddered, exhaling a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding in. He turned his eyes to the next picture of them. He vividly remembered taking this one. It had been taken immediately after that last picture.

He still had his arms wrapped around the boy. Stewie was now on his feet, though, and turned ever so slightly toward him, his hand still lingering on his cheek. It had felt like he was trying to pull him in for a kiss, and Brian reacted by pulling back just a bit. Still, he never let go of Stewie, never refused to take the picture. There was one more detail, though, that the dog had chosen to completely ignore up until this point. While he had pulled away once it occurred to him what the infant was probably driving at, he had also stiffened up. He couldn't move completely away. He hadn't wanted to move completely away. A part of him had been intrigued. A part of him had wanted that kiss.

"No… I couldn't. I wouldn't."

But it was true. It could even be kind of seen in the picture. He looked more nervous than anything, unsure how to respond, like a teenager interacting with a love interest for the first time, completely willing but too confused to move. Stewie had been acting so sweetly toward him. It had warmed his heart, but…

I didn't know what to do. There was just too much happening too fast. I could hardly take it.

He couldn't help but wonder, though, if he would have eventually allowed a kiss from Stewie if things had continued to proceed the way they were at first. Luckily for him, what happened next had undone a little of whatever charm Stewie had worked on him.

He looked over to the next picture. It had him on all fours, just like a normal dog, while Stewie sat on top looking smug as hell. This one didn't stir up the kind of emotions the other pictures did. Brian just felt that it was kind of degrading to be posed in such a fashion, presented as any other animal. It had been the photographer's suggestion, though, not Stewie's, but come on, did the kid have to look so goddamn proud of himself while he rode him like a fucking horse?

The dog grunted, refusing to keep his focus on the matter. He continued on to the next picture in the album.

He grimaced.

It was the one where Stewie was wearing some sort of see-through material, body turned to the side, looking over his shoulder at the poor dog who had the article of clothing in his teeth as if he was attempting to strip the boy. As far as the pictures Stewie had taken with him, this was the one where the kid was at his most...feminine. Also, by this point, the photoshoot was really beginning to wear on Brian's nerves. This extremely uncomfortable setup sure didn't help. The canine looked like he was being tortured in this picture, and at the time, that wasn't too far off. The rush of just...everything had been some sick, twisted torture designed specifically for him.

He could have walked out at any moment, though. If it had been that bad, why had he stayed? Why had he acquiesced to Every. Single. Request?

Why the fuck did you take these!?

Brian was gripping the book tightly now and shaking. His breath was coming out in quick, heavy bursts of air. Was this a panic attack? He'd never had one before, so he didn't know. It sure as hell felt like it could be, though. He shut his eyes and slammed the album onto the ground in front of him, paws going up to rub at his temples.

He didn't want to think about that day anymore. He wanted to go to sleep...but knew he couldn't.

Fuck my life.

He sat there like that for some time, desperately trying to calm down. Once he had his breathing under control, he finally opened his eyes. He saw that album lying there, and his gaze landed on that final picture he had taken with Stewie. They were holding up a sign that said Coming Soon, and this time, Stewie was definitely trying to kiss him, just fucking going for it, closed eyes, tilted head, puckered lips and all. By that point, Brian was definitely NOT in the mood for a kiss, so of course, he looked absolutely horrified, face turned away in obvious discomfort and leaning away as much as he could without getting out of the photo.

Yeah. That's right. He looked like he wanted to fucking bolt out of there, but he still made sure to stay in frame. He'd been such a good boy. He shook his head and chuckled darkly.

The universe fucking hates me.

It was a ridiculous thing to think, though. He knew he had no one to blame but himself. He could have left at any time, but he didn't. He stayed. He endured it all, and for what? Just to please Stewie? Had that been his motivation? It had to have been, right? What other reason could there have been? He sure wasn't about to pass out those pictures. He wasn't proud of them, and aside from the person who took them, only he and Stewie knew about them. So, yeah, he'd done it for Stewie. He was willing to take all that just to make the kid happy.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

The dog fell back onto the floor, arms outstretched as he stared up at the ceiling. He grew completely still as he allowed his recollections and feelings to just wash over him.

There was no analyzing, no questioning himself. He just allowed things to play out in his head. His eyes closed, his breathing grew steady.

In and then out.

In and out.

In.

Out.

It was the most relaxed he had felt all night. With one last deep breath through his nostrils, he opened his eyes and looked over at the crib. He smiled.

"I'd do anything for you, Stewie."

He meant it wholeheartedly. Stewie meant the world to him, and no matter how hard it was to accept, the simple truth was, no matter how much he had disliked taking those pictures, he would have felt much worse if he hadn't and disappointed Stewie. Looking back now, the only thing that really mattered to him was that Stewie had been happy. He wasn't sure what that said about him or where this relationship was heading, but just for this moment, he could take pride in that one fact. He made Stewie happy. It was a relief and a comfort to acknowledge that. How it had taken him this long to just accept this one simple truth was beyond him. He laughed again.

"God, I'm such a mess."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, smile never leaving his face.

"It's ok, though.. As long as I have you. I'll be alright."

That's what it always came back to. No matter how much he thought about it, tried to figure it all out, the bottom line was he needed Stewie and Stewie needed him. No matter how strange or uncomfortable things got, that just wasn't going to change.

His fingers tapped out a beat on the floor for a few seconds before he finally pushed himself back up into a sitting position.

Yeah. Strange is putting it lightly. Though, I guess the worst is behind me. I'm not sure it could get much stranger at this point, especially the whole helping him give birth thing. Now THAT was traumatic.

The dog shuddered a bit as he recalled that whole incident. They had been in a McBurgertown. Brian had taken Stewie there in hopes of satisfying one of the child's cravings. This had been well into the whole period where taking care of Stewie had become his new routine, so it was just any other day at that point.

And, then, it happened.

Stewie's water broke.

Their babies were coming.

That moment, the moment when he realized it was actually happening, had caused Brian to go into a mode that he'd never experienced before, something foreign but, also, oh so natural. He was in a panic. All that mattered was getting Stewie somewhere where he could give birth safely, for both him and the babies. He didn't know for sure, but he had a good idea what to call that mode.

"Dad mode." That must be what people mean when they say they're in "dad mode".

It had always been such a funny thing to Brian, granted he had experienced something kind of similar for the short time his son Dylan lived with him. That had been different, though. With Dylan he was more so trying to emulate other fathers he had seen. He was trying to be a good father, but it still never felt natural. In that moment, with Stewie, though, he could have easily been compared to a panicked father trying to keep it together as his wife went into labor. He didn't even think about it. He just acted. It had been completely natural, scarily so. The entire situation was incredibly bizarre, to put it mildly, and normally, he would have commented on that but, no, not then, not with what was on the line. He had taken everything absolutely seriously.

It wasn't until after the fact that he was able to look back and realize the horror of what he'd seen. Stewie giving birth was just...unnatural. That was the nicest way to put it, probably, not that he could even begin to properly describe the sight. Those kids had come out of everywhere. How was Stewie even still functioning?!

Brian shook his head vigorously, ready to move on and not wanting to dwell on that particular sight. His mind turned to thoughts specifically regarding their children, their poor, poor seven abominations for offspring. That might have been harsh, but if there was anything Brian truly regretted from the whole experience it was those kids. That was just the worst part of it all.

Before they were born, Brian hadn't really thought much about what their children would be like. He simply didn't want to give it much thought. When finally confronted with the reality of their kids, though, he'd quickly realized that had been Stewie's biggest mistake.

The child had obviously not taken everything into account. How could he have? He'd gotten pregnant on a whim, basically. Surely, if he had known how badly off their offspring would be, he wouldn't have done it. Brian at least liked to believe so. Stewie used to be evil, but he was convinced that the Stewie he knew now wouldn't have willingly given birth to a bunch of barely functioning hybrids, all with their own array of physical and mental disabilities. Those kids...just didn't have any future. That honestly broke his heart.

Ok. There had been a few that seemed like they might be able to get by. He remembered one that looked pretty much exactly like him, only with human skin. Finn had been cute enough, and he didn't seem to be mentally disabled. He probably had a future.

Aside from their kids being severely handicapped, though, there was also the simple truth that there was just no way for him and Stewie to take care of seven kids. And then take those disabilities into account, and it had been a lost cause from the very start. They had been terrible parents! Maybe if there had been one or two or something they could have made it work. MAYBE. But, seven? No. There was no way. It was just too much to keep up with. They couldn't even keep three of them from dying…

The dog frowned and stood to his feet.

I need a cigarette. Now.

He retrieved his pack of cigs and lighter over near Stewie's crib and, then, proceeded over to the window. He pulled up one of the small plastic chairs, opened the window slightly, and took a seat before lighting the stick and eagerly puffing away. He sat there for a minute, taking lazy drags and expelling the fumes through the crack in the window, rolling that last thought in his head over and over: three of his children were dead. Even if he hadn't gotten particular attached to any of the babies, it was still a hard thought to process.

The first time he'd realized that he and Stewie had lost one of their children, he had been completely horrified. He remembered walking over to a bush and puking as Stewie recovered the corpse from the lake where it had fallen in and drowned, completely ignored by them as they bickered over nothing. Stewie had seemed distraught over it, too, but he kept up a strong front. They'd buried the thing in silence and moved on with their walk in the park, content to drop the matter, for the time being.

Brian felt moisture in his eyes and quickly wiped it away with the back of his paw.

Then, there had been the one that basically slowly disintegrated. Brian couldn't remember if that child was Jack or Rose, but it had definitely been one of the two. He had noticed something seriously wrong with that one early on, and before long, there was just...nothing. It wasn't too unlike the time Stewie had created those clones of them who had fallen apart in a similar manner. Brian was no stranger to living things that Stewie created ending up dead. ...It was different when it was his own kid, though.

If anything, that was the only crutch he could hang on to involving this matter. Those kids had basically just been another experiment, one that had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Maybe that was how Stewie saw it, too. Maybe that was how he was able to get by so easily after the deaths.

There was one more that had been run over by Joe's lawn mower. It had been grisly to witness, but by that point, Brian was unable to muster up any feelings of surprise. It was at that moment, though, that he completely realized those kids were doomed if they stayed with him and Stewie. He would have felt bad about giving them away if it weren't for the fact that they were just better off and, most importantly, safer there than with their parents.

It had been the right call. Brian had no doubt about that. He and Stewie had their chance, and they blew it. Now, they just had to move on.

That was hard, though. Brian could do his best to act normally, to let everything go back to the way it was before the pregnancy, but moving on was a whole different story. Yes, he still had a ton of mixed and confusing emotions regarding simply what had happened with Stewie, but it was probably even harder trying to forget about those babies. This whole thing, it just hadn't been fair to them.

Plus, he had lied earlier. He had actually begun to grow attached them. He'd told Stewie otherwise because he knew they had to give them away and didn't want Stewie feeling bad about it, but the truth was, he missed his children, no matter how screwed up they were. He wanted to be there for them. He wanted to be a good father. Stewie had even told him that he had an opportunity to make up for not being there for Dylan when he was young, and the dog had wanted to take that opportunity and do right by his newly born children. He'd failed, and that hurt like hell because he had tried. There was just no way.

There was one in particular that Brian especially hated parting with. That had been Finn. It had only been natural that he'd gravitate toward that child. The boy had so many of his features. It had endeared Brian to him almost immediately.

The canine felt that moisture again. He went to wipe it away but stopped. He choked back a sob and let a few tears fall.

Let it out, Brian. It's ok. There was nothing you could have done.

It was something he had to keep telling himself or else the guilt would swallow him. Maybe he just wasn't cut out for parenthood. Maybe he just didn't have it in him to be a good father. As if he didn't have enough things to be depressed over…

Brian sat there and cried for a while longer, releasing his pent up sadness. Eventually, he was able to compose himself. He wiped his eyes again and took one more drag off his cigarette before putting it out and closing the window. He turned in his seat to face the crib and sat there hunched over, staring, watching Stewie sleep, still so peaceful. Brian just didn't understand how the boy could be so at ease.

"I wish I could talk about them with you, I mean really talk about them. I want to know what was going through your head. I want to know if you were actually attached to them like I was."

He looked down and sighed.

"I want to be able to cry on your shoulder, to let you comfort me like I know you would, but I can't. We can't dwell on them. It won't do any good. They're better off without us, and we both know that. Why bring it up? And, if you really are as ok with everything as you look, I can't bring myself to open you up to the same kind of sadness I'm feeling. But, they were your kids, too, Stewie. You must have cared more than you let on. You must miss them...at least a little."

The dog rubbed his legs awkwardly. Was this weird what he was doing, talking to Stewie while he was asleep? In the end, it probably didn't matter too much. It helped in its own way just to vocalize these things, even if the kid wasn't listening.

"Maybe, after some time has passed, we can talk more about it, really discuss how this whole experience affected us and work through it. Things still just feel unresolved, and the only person I can discuss this with is you. I definitely can't talk to the family, and a therapist might help, but there's no way they'd believe me and, even if they did...no, nevermind. No one would ever believe this. I'd just be sent away to some insane asylum. You're all I have here, kid…"

The dog inhaled deeply before standing, placing the chair back over by the little plastic table, and walking back over to the crib. He gazed at Stewie through the bars.

"If anything, I'm going to need to discuss this more with you one day, but for now, I'm going to do my best to ignore it for your sake."

He stood there for a second before reaching up to climb back into the crib. As he was pulling himself up, though, he stopped. A thought had popped into his head.

"I can't just forget about them. I don't know if that's what you intend to do or not, but I can't let myself do that, not again. I'm going back to the animal shelter. I'm going to ask them to let me know where they each end up, and I'm going to keep tabs on their whereabouts and how they're doing. I may not be able to be there for them, but I'm going to at least be aware. And then, someday, when we finally talk about them again, I'm going to let you know about everything. I guess we'll decide what to do from there."

He smiled.

"And, who knows, maybe one day, when they're older, we can meet them again. I'm not sure exactly how we'd explain their parentage, but I'd like them to at least know who we are. Do you think they'd understand? Do you think they'll grow up to be as advanced as we are or will they just have the intellect of an average dog? I mean, at least one has to be a genius, right? That has to be the case just considering whose kids they are. I hope so, at least. In retrospect, everything might be easier if they end up not being that advanced, but I'd like to go back one day and actually build a meaningful relationship with them, you know? I don't want them going through the same things I have. Dylan at least had one parent, no matter how bad Tracy might have been, but I know what it's like to grow up without either of your parents, Stewie. I don't want them going through that, if I can help it."

Brian shuffled his feet and looked down.

"They're my kids. I...I love them."

With that, he climbed into the crib and laid back down, pulling the blanket up to cover himself before turning on his side to face Stewie.

"And, I love you, too, Stewie."

He chuckled.

"I'm still trying to sort out what exactly I mean by that, but I definitely love you. There's no question about that, no matter how annoying or frustrating you may be, no matter what crazy stunt you may pull. I need you, and I know you need me, too. I'm not going anywhere, never worry about that."

He slid in a little closer and rested his paw over the boy's hand.

"If there's anything I've learned from this whole experience it's that I need to be a little more open about that. You wouldn't have done what you did if I'd just communicated with you more. It's hard sometimes, though, Stewie. Sometimes I'm not sure what signals I'm sending across or whether I should be sending signals at all. Sometimes, no matter how much I want to be around you, I'm worried about being around you too much. Maybe I'm just being silly, though. I do always want to hang out with you, Stewie. I'm at my happiest with you. You're an amazing kid, and I'm incredibly lucky to have you in my life. I complain about my life a lot, but I'd definitely be a lot worse off without you."

The dog smirked, a quiet snicker escaping his mouth.

"Plus, things would be a hell of a lot more boring without you. You may be a pain in the ass, but you sure do keep things interesting. I have my issues, but one thing I never have to worry about is boredom setting in. I'm sure, before long, you'll have some new crazy invention to show me, or you'll end up talking me into some crazy new trip to go on with you. Who knows what you'll cook up in that big head of yours?"

He pulled the boy against him, wrapping his arm around the infant protectively.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to find out, and you can bet, no matter what it is, I'll be there by your side, doing whatever needs to be done and having the time of my life doing it."

Before he realized it, he kissed the top of the boy's head. Normally, he would have felt weird about the action and questioned it, but all he could do in that moment was just shrug and let it slide.

He snuggled against the child and instantly felt a relaxing sensation wash over him. His mind was still going a mile a minute, bouncing back and forth between the events that had occurred over the last several weeks. He didn't feel any closer to having the answers he craved, but he also didn't feel as distressed over everything as he had earlier. Maybe he was just tired. It was late, and his brain could only handle so much before it needed rest. He'd probably spend many more nights going over everything again and again. He was almost certain of that. It was just what he did, his process. Right now, he was content to let it drop for the night, to just fall asleep here beside his best friend and partner, the person who made his life worth living. He closed his eyes, smile still on his face.

"Goodnight, Stewie."

The boy stirred slightly. Brian felt the toddler's arm come to rest over his torso, pulling him in close, cuddling against him like he would Rupert or something. It felt good. It felt comforting. It was nice. The dog exhaled a breath of contentment.

He could feel his thoughts finally beginning to slow down, a dark, hazy fog slowly enveloping them until all he was aware of was just him and Stewie, lying next to each other in the crib. In just a few more seconds, he was out cold, snoring ever so slightly but not enough to awaken Stewie from his peaceful slumber. The sleep he had so desperately sought earlier had finally claimed him, bringing with it pleasant dreams and a state of comfort he hadn't felt in a good while.

Neither of them stirred for the rest of the night, and the next morning, their lives simply resumed as normal.

Well, at least as normal as life could be for a talking dog and super genius baby who loved each other.