Author's Note: To date, this is the fic that I've spent the most amount of time working on. Not surprisingly, it's also the longest. It's another chapter fic, but like with You Make Me Feel Alive!, updates will be coming regularly and quite frequently, very frequently. There's not really much else I can say without spoiling anything, so here you go, another Brewie fic. Enjoy!

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

Week Zero

Sunday: Secret Admirer?

Brian couldn't sleep. He was currently lying at the foot of Peter and Lois's bed, eyes shut tightly, with the house unusually silent, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't manage to allow himself to drift off into a relaxing slumber. There was simply too much on his mind at the moment, and he couldn't bring himself to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest brought on by it all, no matter how exhausted he actually was. It was driving him crazy. His eyes shot open in frustration, and he let out a low, quiet growl in annoyance at himself for allowing his brooding to get in the way of a good night's rest. He looked over at the digital clock. It read 2:17. He sighed. There was only one person he needed to talk to right now. Unfortunately, it was way too late to even be considering going to bug that person with his personal issues. He repositioned himself and shut his eyes again, trying in vain to clear his head of all the depressing thoughts currently bombarding him. After what felt like a good length of time, he gave up again. He opened his eyes and looked back at the clock. It read 2:20.

Fuck it.

He sat up and hopped off the bed before quietly making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall toward the room currently occupied by the one person he needed to see. When he reached the appropriate door, he stopped for a minute to reconsider what he was about to do but quickly realized that if he turned back now, there was little to no chance of him getting any sleep that night. With his mind made up, he grabbed the door knob, turned it, and tiptoed his way into the room before carefully closing the door behind him. The room was almost pitch black, aside from the small bit of light coming in from the streetlight outside, and completely quiet, except for the faint sound of snoring coming from the nearby crib. Brian slowly shuffled his way over toward the crib and whispered.

"Stewie? Are you awake?"

Unsurprisingly, there was no response, but this didn't stop the dog. Once he was standing by the crib he leaned in toward the sleeping child and spoke again.

"Stewie."

He reached through the bars and pushed on the boy, trying as best as he could to gently wake the boy up. The infant responded by grimacing and rolling over in an attempt to ignore the disruption of his deep sleep. Brian waited a moment before speaking again.

"Stewie."

He pushed on the boy again with a little more force than before. In response, Stewie slowly rolled over and gazed at the dog, groggy and obviously annoyed. He yawned.

"What the hell, Brian! Do you have any idea how late it is!?"

The dog ignored the question. He hadn't come here to get into a fight.

"I couldn't sleep. I just…have a lot on my mind at the moment."

The child's expression softened a bit. After a couple of seconds, he finally responded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Brian sat down but kept his gaze on the boy.

"That's kind of the point of me coming in here. I'm sorry about waking you, but…"

He looked down.

"Talking with you usually helps when I get like this."

Stewie sat up, rubbed his eyes, and stretched his arms before standing up on wobbly legs and carefully climbing out of his crib to join his friend in a sitting position on the floor.

"So what's bothering you?"

Brian felt a hand being placed on his leg and stiffened at the contact but made no attempt to move away.

"Everything's bothering me, Stewie."

There was a sigh followed by a brief pause before he continued.

"I just can't help thinking about how meaningless my life will be in the long run. I mean, more than likely, over half of my life has come and gone, and what do I have to show for it? I have all these hopes and dreams, but they all seem so far out of reach. I'm a failure at pretty much everything I've ever attempted, especially with my sorry attempts to become a famous writer. My love life is a complete and total train wreck. There's this burning desire within me to find someone that I can share my life with, but at this point, I just don't think that's ever going to happen. Besides, even if I did finally meet someone like that, is my life even worth sharing? What the hell does a mutt like me have to offer anyone?"

The dog had more to say, but he was cut off by Stewie suddenly speaking up.

"Stop. Just stop, Brian."

The child's tone was one of annoyance, but his face was one of worry. He seemed to mumble something to himself, something about hating hearing the dog talk like this, but Brian couldn't make it all out. When he was done, a bit of anger found its way into the boy's expression.

"I understand you're not happy with your life, but don't you ever say it's meaningless because that's a fucking lie, and you know it."

The child's face was now stern, almost like he was scolding the canine. Brian's jaw fell a little. This wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't think of anything appropriate for a response. When it was clear that he had nothing to say, Stewie continued.

"Think about all you've done for this family. Peter would have been long dead if you hadn't stuck by his side all those many times he went and did something completely moronic. You've provided sound advice for Chris and Meg whenever they've needed it. As for Lois…"

He stopped for a minute as if he was struggling to get his next sentence out.

"If she didn't have someone like you to talk to, I'm pretty sure she would have flown off the deep end a long time ago. This family needs you, Brian. I don't even want to think about where it would be without you. You may see yourself as a failure, but really, you're the only thing keeping this family together half of the time. If that's not an accomplishment, I don't know what is."

At that, the dog let out a small chuckle, which seemed to get a small grin from the boy in return. He thought about what Stewie had just said and mulled it over. This was why he came to Stewie. The kid always knew just the right words to say to help him see the brighter side of things. Stewie was right, too. His life did have importance. Maybe it wasn't the kind of importance he strived for, but it was still a meaningful importance. It was just easy to lose sight of that sometimes, but Stewie was always there to help put things in perspective for him when he needed it. They all needed him: Peter, Chris, Meg, and Lois. With that thought, it dawned on him that the child had left out one family member in particular.

"And what about you, Stewie?"

The infant looked at him confused.

"What about me?"

Brian tilted his head. Did the boy really not realize that he had failed to mention himself?

"You talked about all the things I do for the family, but you never mentioned yourself. What? Do you not need me or something?"

The dog's voice took on a playful tone. He knew good and well that he meant a lot to Stewie, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy hearing it. The child seemed to grow nervous, and he redirected his gaze toward the floor.

"You're…the most important thing in my life, Brian. There's not much else that needs to be said."

A warm smile formed across the canine's face. Suddenly all those thoughts that had been bugging him before didn't seem that important.

"Thanks, Stewie."

The boy looked back up and smiled back.

"Anytime."

There was an awkward pause before Stewie finally spoke up.

"Soooo…I take that smile to mean that you're feeling better. Can we go to sleep now?"

Brian laughed and nodded his head. He picked up Stewie and went to return the baby to his crib, but the child stopped him.

"Wait."

The dog looked at the boy to see what was wrong.

"Stay here with me. After all, it's the least you could do after waking me up at such a late hour."

Brian was already planning on spending the night in Stewie's room, but knowing that the child wanted him there felt indescribably good. Before he knew what he was doing, he responded, teasingly

"What? Do you want me to sleep beside you, too?"

It almost sounded like a joke, but really, a part of Brian was hoping the boy said yes. The question seemed to catch Stewie off guard, but he was still quick to respond by slowly nodding his head with an adorable smile plastered on his face. Brian grabbed Stewie's pillow and blanket and made a spot for the two of them on the floor. When he was done, he laid Stewie down on the pillow and tucked him into the blanket before taking a spot beside the boy and instinctively wrapping an arm around him.

"Goodnight, Stewie."

The boy yawned.

"Goodnight, Brian."

It wasn't long before they both fell into a deep slumber.


Brian awoke to find himself alone. The pillow and blanket were still there, but Stewie was nowhere in sight. He sat up, yawned, and stretched as he thought back on what had transpired the night before. He thought about how strange both he and Stewie had acted after Stewie had provided him comfort. Sure they both cared about each other, but they hardly ever acted like…that. He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

We must have both been really tired.

That must have been it. It was really late. Neither one of them was really thinking clearly. That would explain the overly mushy attitudes they both had. He was too exhausted to bother with keeping his wall up, and Stewie probably just enjoyed the rare moment where they could be openly affectionate for one another. It's not like it was bad thing, though, just a little weird. Brian decided not to think about it any further. There was really no point in trying to analyze every little moment he shared with Stewie. Their relationship was complicated, to say the least, but it was still a relationship he cherished. He stood up and exited the room. He went downstairs, and after a quick search, he realized that no one was home. Then, he remembered what day it was.

Sunday. They must have gone to church or something.

Just then, he heard a beep. His ears perked up at the sound he recognized to be his cell phone. He walked into the kitchen to retrieve the phone which was currently on the table, charging. First, he looked to see what time it was. According to the clock on his phone, it was only a few minutes after one.

I knew I had slept in, but I didn't think I had slept through the entire morning.

He didn't like that he had allowed so much of the day to be wasted, but there was no sense in dwelling on it now. He put that issue behind him and looked to see what had been causing his phone to beep. The bar at the top had an envelope icon on display, indicating that he had unchecked text messages. A few button presses later, and he saw that it was actually just one text message from a number he didn't recognize. Curiosity peaked, he opened it.

Check the mail.

What?

A paw went up to scratch behind his neck in confusion. It was Sunday. The mail didn't run on Sunday, and even if it did, what stranger would send him a message reminding him to check it. He shrugged and closed the phone. After setting it back down on the table, he turned to head toward the front door. The day's paper was nowhere in sight, so he figured the family must have forgotten to grab it before heading out. He opened the door, and sure enough, the paper was still out on the lawn. He walked outside to retrieve it but stopped when his eyes caught the sight of the Griffin mailbox. His mind went back to the text he had just read. Why had he gotten it? He thought about it seriously for a minute and came to a conclusion. Logically, either one of two things probably happened. Either this was some kind of prank, or someone had sent the text to the wrong number while also forgetting that the mail didn't run that day. Actually, scratch that last bit. It had to be a prank waiting to happen. The more he thought about it, the more the situation began to bug him. It didn't take long for him to redirect his path toward the mailbox. He had to know if something was up with that message, and even if it was a prank, at least he saw it coming.

What harm could there be in just checking?

After arriving at the mailbox, he paused a minute before reaching out to open its door. He carefully opened it enough so he could peek inside without opening it all the way. It looked empty, and he couldn't really detect anything wrong coming from inside. Satisfied, he opened it the rest of the way and reached in. At first he didn't feel anything, but just as he was about to pull out, his paw brushed against something pressed to the side. He felt it for a second before finally grabbing it and pulling it out. The object was a single white envelope.

Oooooook? Is this for me?

It took awhile for him to take his focus off of the mystery envelope. When he finally did, he closed the mailbox, retrieved the newspaper, and walked back inside the house. He took a seat on the couch and tossed the newspaper to the side for the moment. He had no idea what this thing could possibly be let alone who hell it could be from, but this didn't stop him from making quick work of unsealing the envelope. He opened it and pulled out a piece of white paper that had been folded into thirds so it would fit. He set the envelope down and unfolded the paper. At the top were typed two words, Dearest Brian. It was a typed letter on printer paper. Intrigued, Brian began reading again.

Dearest Brian,

In the event that you actually end up receiving this letter in the manner I intended, I'd like to go ahead and explain why I did things the way I did. I know this must seem like a roundabout way of getting this letter to you, but you have to understand that I needed to find a way to get this to you privately, and the whole text message thing actually ended up being the simplest way I could think of. The fact that I gave you this letter on a Sunday is a mere coincidence that simply provided a slight bit of extra complication, but hopefully, it all worked out in the end and you're sitting at home, alone, reading this for the first time. If you choose to share this with others after this initial reading, that's your business, but I wanted you to be able to read this first letter from me in a nice, peaceful environment because I have a lot that I need to get off my chest, and I'm hoping that you don't see this as some kind of joke because it's not, and I'm being completely serious. Anyway, I figured I at least owed you an explanation for the strange circumstances under which you received this letter, and I'm hoping you didn't find it too strange because then you'd think I'm some kind of weirdo or something, and I'd hate for that to happen.

Now that that's out of the way, I can move on to the reason I wrote this letter in the first place. To put things simply, I'm in love with you, Brian, and it's driving me crazy! Still, I can't bring myself to openly confess my love directly to you because I'm afraid you'll reject me. I know, I'm pathetic, but I can't help it! At least this way, I can finally tell you this without giving away my identity. Maybe one day I'll finally come out and say how I feel openly, but for right now, this will have to do. Really, I already feel a lot better after typing just those few sentences. I'm not sure how this will seem coming from a "stranger", but maybe, you'll actually find it kind of nice that there's someone out there that feels this way about you. I know you haven't had the best of luck in the romance department, and I know how much you desperately want to find someone to love that will love you in return. I want to be that person, Brian. I want it more than anything…

When I see you with someone else, my blood begins to boil, and I hate watching you throw yourself out there for all these women who don't deserve you and who refuse to give you the love and respect you rightfully deserve. I hate seeing how upset they make you when things don't work out. It breaks my heart to see you so upset after a break-up or after simply being rejected. I'd give anything to have the opportunity they had to be with you, and I definitely wouldn't do something so moronic as to squander it. Those bimbos just don't know what they let get away, but I suppose I should be grateful for their stupidity because that at least keeps you available, but I know, one day, that might not be the case anymore, and that fact breaks my heart just as much. Don't get me wrong, Brian. I want you to be happy, but I'd greatly prefer it if you could be happy with me. Maybe that's wrong of me. It's really the weirdest thing. Every time you start dating someone, I hope that things don't work out, but then, I see how upset you get, and I feel guilty for thinking that, and then you find someone else, and I want them to dump you again. It's a seemingly never ending cycle that's really beginning to take its toll on me. Moving on, though, what I'm trying to say, Brian, is that those women don't understand you. They don't deserve to understand you. They've done nothing to earn that, but that's ok because I understand you, Brian, and I just know that, if you give me a chance, I can fill that empty space in your heart. I know that sounds sappy, but damn it, I mean every fucking word! They're words you need to hear, and if no one else will say them, I'll gladly be the one to do so.

I guess that's really all I have to say right now. I might write more, later. If I do, you'll be able to find my letters just like you found this one, in the mailbox and encased in a blank white envelope. It would probably be a good idea to try and be the first one to check the mail in the mornings. I'd hate it if you ended up losing one of my letters, that is unless you just have no interest in reading anymore from me, but hopefully, that won't be the case. I love you, Brian, and I hope that this letter will serve as the first step toward eventually telling you those words myself.

Love,

Your Secret Admirer

Brian finished reading the letter, mouth agape. There was only one thing on his mind.

Who wrote this?

He could feel a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. Just the fact that there was somebody out there that wrote something like this for him made him feel completely elated. He was so caught up in his joy that he almost didn't notice the door open, announcing the return of the family from Sunday Mass. He set the letter down and turned to greet the family but was interrupted by Lois fussing at Peter.

"It was completely inexcusably, Peter! I asked you to watch Stewie for a second, and you let him run off to do only God knows what! We're lucky he was right outside! Anyone could have just walked off with him, and we wouldn't have had a clue!"

The rest of the family filed in. Chris and Meg made a beeline for the staircase, obviously wanting to get away from their arguing parents. Stewie was currently being held by Lois with a look on his face that showed he was greatly annoyed at the moment by his mother's nagging, and Peter was shuffling his way over to the couch while making up an excuse for being such an inattentive parent.

"It wasn't my fault, Lois!"

He sat down.

"The kid's fast. I took my eyes off of em for barely a second, and he was just gone. Besides, what's the big deal? Like ya said, he was right outside. He probably just wanted to play or something. I say, let em run around if he wants. It'll teach em some independence."

At this, Lois set Stewie down and went to stand in front of Peter.

"Independence!? He's just a baby, Peter! Do you not care about the wellbeing of your own son!? How would you feel if we hadn't found him? What would you tell me then, 'Ah, well, gee, Lois, it'll do him some good to get out into the real world.'!?"

Peter had a look on his face that made it very clear he wasn't taking what Lois was saying seriously. He stood up.

"For crying out loud, Lois! Stewie is fine! He's right here, safe and sound at home. Why are ya still houndin' me about this!"

Lois sighed, exasperated.

"Never mind, Peter. I can't keep fighting you about this. Just try to be more attentive from now on, please."

Peter smiled.

"Sure thing, Lois. I won't let the boy out of my sight for even a second next time. You'll see."

It was a hollow promise, and Brian could tell that Lois knew it. She smiled back anyway, though, and the two of them turned to head upstairs to their room. Once they were gone, Stewie walked over and joined him on the couch.

"Thank God that particular fight is over. I swear I was this close to strangling that woman. There's only so much of that annoying voice I can take."

Brian looked over at his little buddy.

"You know, she only got that way because she cares about you."

The child scoffed.

"She had nothing to worry about. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself anyway."

He motioned toward Brian.

"So, what have you been up to?"

Brian then remembered what he had been doing before being interrupted by Peter and Lois's bickering, and that warm feeling he had felt returned in full force. He eagerly began explaining what just happened.

"Well, I woke up only a little while ago. I wasn't too happy about sleeping through the morning, but I guess, I needed it after last night. Anyway, the strangest thing happened today."

He paused, prompting Stewie to speak.

"Ok, so what happened?"

Brian turned so that he was fully facing Stewie as he recounted the events of his day.

"Alright, so I came downstairs looking for you guys, but then, I heard my phone beeping from the kitchen. I went and checked it, and someone had sent me a text telling me to check the mail."

He paused again, wanting to hear what Stewie had to say. When the child said nothing, he continued.

"After that, I went outside to get the newspaper, but while I was out there, I decided to go ahead and see if there was actually something in the mailbox, and wouldn't you know it, I found an unmarked envelope, so I took it inside, opened it, and found a letter meant for me from a secret admirer."

Stewie's eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Oh, really? Where is it?"

Brian reached behind himself and grabbed the letter to show Stewie. After making sure it was alright for him to take it, Stewie grabbed it and appeared to skim it over. A smile formed across his face.

"Oh, wow. Someone's got it bad for you, Old Man. Who do you think it is?"

The dog shrugged.

"Honestly, I have no clue. With the way it's written, it sounds like it might be somebody I already know, but I'm not sure who that could be because the text came from an unknown number."

The child handed the letter back to Brian.

"Well, I must say, whoever it is seems like quite a catch. That was quite the competently written letter. I would have expected a little something more...not so good from the type of person you usually attract."

The dog rolled his eyes at Stewie's comment and responded sarcastically.

"Thanks."

But even Stewie's jabs weren't enough to put a damper on his mood. The two exchanged a smile before Stewie hopped down off of the couch.

"Keep me posted on this "secret admirer". I must admit, I'm extremely curious to see how this all plays out."

Brian began refolding the letter as he answered.

"Trust me. You'll be the first to know if anything happens."

Satisfied with the dog's response, Stewie turned to head up to his room. With the letter now refolded, Brian placed it back in the envelope, he'd decided to keep it. Even if this was just a one-time thing, having something like this would still mean a lot, but hopefully, there would be more to come. Maybe this whole secret admirer business would lead to him discovering his soul mate. He chuckled. Ok, maybe that was a little overly optimistic, but at least, he was actually in an optimistic mood for once. The whole thing was still a little strange, if not suspicious. Stuff like this didn't happen to him…ever, but he was willing to see where this went. Envelope in hand, he jumped off the couch and went to put it away with his other things.


The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. After putting away his letter, Brian finally got around to reading the newspaper he had retrieved earlier. The rest of the family spent most of the afternoon in their respective rooms, but eventually, Lois came down to get started on dinner, which didn't seem to take too long to throw together. When the time came for everybody to come down and eat, Brian decided not to share the events of his day or the letter with anyone at the dinner conversation. The rest of the family probably wouldn't take it seriously and just joke about it, especially Peter and Lois.

The dinner passed by relatively normally, at least by Griffin standards. Stewie didn't bring the letter up again, but he and Brian still talked a little here and there. Everyone else talked about other things like that day at church or what they had planned for the next day, the usual stuff. Most of the time, Brian was too caught up in his own thoughts to pay too much attention to what was going on. He was the first to finish his meal and the first one in the living room for the family's regular nightly TV time. Time seemed to fly by, and before he knew it, everybody was heading off to bed. He followed suit, walking upstairs to Peter and Lois's room and taking his regular spot at the foot of their bed. When the lights went out and the house went silent, he found it extremely easy to fall into a nice relaxing sleep. It was the most at peace he had been in a long time, and he couldn't wait to begin the new day.