Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He keeps running and ducking behind different covers; escaping the gunshots that sounded in the distance. Brian rolls through a doorway and out of the corridor; he scans the new room he's tumbled into for anything that could be of any use. The room itself looked busted up: broken furniture parts littered the floor and the wallpaper was shredded in several places. The dust in the air was illuminated by strands of light peeking through the boarded-up window. Brian carefully weighs his options of escape; he could climb out of the window and scale down the three-story building, or, he could run back into the hallway to find a better route to freedom. The echoing of heavy footsteps was getting closer and closer, so Brian tears at the wooden boards on the window.

He winces in pain from the splinters now digging into his fingertips, “Yah fuckin’ owe me, Evan” he grumbles to himself as he climbs onto the window ledge. Brian drops to the next available landing spot: a crumbling stone ledge not too far below him.

His body dangles by his arms as he holds on for dear life, hoping the stone won’t dust under his weight. He lets out a small sigh of relief and starts to relocate to a sturdier, safer spot. Not too far from his current position was an old fire escape; he drags himself over to the metal and pulls his body up onto the stable landing. Brian slowly climbs down the ladder as quietly as he can using the moonlight that was shining down to light his way.

He nearly falls from the ladder when his earpiece buzzes back to life; the sudden static surprising him. “Hello? Terroriser?” A familiar voice rang through his ears.

“Oh fohkin hell, Anthony! You dick!” Brian snarls.

“Oh tank god he’s alright,” another voice, who Brian guessed belonged Nogla, utters in relief.

“Of course I'm alright, no tanks to you guys,” the Irishman huffs.

“Did you grab it?” Anthony asks, causing Brian to tut as he pats the bag slung over his shoulder as if the other man could see it.

“Course I did. Could yah send someone to pick me up?” Brian asks; shifting his weight when his feet reach solid ground once again.

“Alright,” Anthony informs, “Wildcat is on his way to pick you up.” The static of his earpiece falls silent once more and Brian is left with the nothingness of the night. He wasn't worried about the guards finding him; in their minds he was long gone.

Within the next couple of minutes, Tyler shows up in an average-sized truck. “Did you really need to bring this abomination?” Brian jokingly teases. 

“Yes you fucktard, now get in, asshole.” Tyler laughs causing Brian to rolls his eyes before hopping into the passenger seat. The entire drive back to the base was filled with laughter and awful jokes; Brian huffs out playful sighs at some of the puns Tyler makes. 

“Yeah, I wouldn't have been caught too, if it weren't for tah outdated security information Evan got!” He complains; as an ex-double agent, Brian was sent on most of the stealth missions. He was part of the infamous Banana Bus Squad in Los Santos after all.

“I bet your fat ass would have been spotted anyways!” Tyler pokes fun at him; Brian playfully punches his friend on the shoulder. The car pulls into the private parking garage owned by the bbs gang and both men exit the truck. Brian does his best to hide his limp, but Tyler seems to notice nonetheless. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I just landed wrong during the escape, I swear I'll be fine. A twisted ankle has yet to kill me during my years of work,” he shrugs; Tyler didn't seem convinced but dropped the subject anyway. Once in the house, Brian hands the bag of documents off to Tyler. “Can yah bring these tah Evan? I've got a date with my bed,” Brian yawns; Tyler nods and wishes his friend a good sleep. Brian stumbles up the stairs and to his room. The first thing he does is grab a [relatively] clean pair of pajama pants off the ground and heads to the bathroom for a quick shower.

The warm water running down his bruised and scratched up body felt like utter bliss as his muscles relaxed. Brian sighs in content as he turns off the water and reaches for a towel to dry off; he quickly changes into the pajama pants and exits the bathroom. Brian flops onto the ever so inviting bed and crawls under the soft blankets, quickly dozing off into a restful sleep.

-

The morning sunlight awoke him from his peaceful slumber. Yawning and stretching, Brian climbs from his bed to greet the day. He puts on a red sweatshirt he found laying around and switched from pajama pants to a pair of jeans before quickly combing his fingers through his unruly bed hair. Brian leaves his room and wishes a good morning to some of his friends in the kitchen. On his way out, Evan stops him. “Hey Brian, you ok?” Evan -also known as Vanoss, he is one of the most feared crime bosses in Los Santos- asks with evident concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just goin’ out to the local cafe,” Brian assures the other, “I won’t be gone fer long.” Evan gives his friend one last look of concern before clapping his shoulder.

“Alright, be safe now, will you?” 

Brian gives a bright smile and nods. “I will, dude.” And with that, he walks out the door and drives to the closest Starbucks. Brian steps into the building and relaxes; he loved the smell of coffee in the morning. He takes a deep inhale of the scent as his eyes flutter shut. Brian sighs and takes a look around at the different people. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he mumbles out a couple of swears under his breath; there was a text from Craig.

Friday 7:13

Mini -> Terroriser

Mini: heyyyy Bri. Ev told me you were out, can you get me some pastries

Terroriser: Sure, what kind?

Mini: forgot what they were called, the swirly ones with cinnamon

Terroriser: Cinnamon Roll?

Mini: yes! that one thx

Brian shakes his head and softly chuckles; his friends weren’t always the brightest, but that never really affects how well they worked together on missions. Brian steps into line and orders a large french vanilla frappuccino with a cinnamon roll from the cashier lady. She tells him it would be out right away and gives him a friendly smile. Brian steps off to the side so the next person in line could order.

After receiving his drink and pastry, Brian sits down at a table next to the window and watches people go by while sipping from his beverage. “Um, excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice speaks up and grabs his attention. “Can I sit here, with you?” A well-built man with brown hair asks.

“Yeah, go right ahead.”

“The name’s Brock,” the stranger said, holding out his hand.

“Brian,” he replies, shaking the other’s hand. “Out of all the empty seats, what made yah choose to sit next tah me? Not that I don’t want to talk to you,” Brian asks out of sheer curiosity.

“You looked lonely, and I took the chance you aren’t going to murder me,” Brock chuckles with a playful shrug; Brian cocks an eyebrow at the statement and takes a sip of his coffee.

“What makes you so sure I won’t murdalize yah? Who knows, maybe I’m a serial killer,” Brian jokes, earning more laughter from the bubbly man across from him.

“Something tells me you’re not; you’re too Irish sounding to be one!” Brock snorts in amusement which sets Brian off. Soon both men are laughing hysterically, earning strange looks from the other customers. It takes a couple of minutes for them to calm down. Brock digs around in his pocket and pulls out a pen, and writes his number down on a napkin. “We should hang out again, I'd love to be friends!” Brock smiles to Brian, who hums in agreement.

He pockets the napkin and says goodbye, promising to text later that day. Brian drives back to the base, smile not even once leaving his face. He tosses the wrapped pastry at Craig who sits on the couch, losing a game of Mario Kart to Nogla and Tyler like usual. “What’s stricken your fancy?” Tyler asks before suddenly cursing at the game.

“Nothin’ really," Brian hums: looking like his head was in the clouds.

“Ooo, Brian, I bet you met someone!” Craig shrieks in excitement above Tyler’s swearing about losing the race to Nogla. This catches the other Irishman’s attention as the giant breaks away from Tyler’s rage.

“Who did ye meet?” Nogla asks; the lot of them sounded like a bunch of gossiping schoolgirls to Brian. He sighs in defeat and plops himself down on the sofa, careful as to not spill what was left of his coffee. It was going to be a long day. Brian hesitantly talks about Brock; what he looked like; how well they connected; how sweet the man was. “Sounds like a dream guy to me" Nogla blurts, making Brian’s face redden.

Chapter Text

Friday 12:05

Brian -> Brock

Brian: Hey, it's Brian from this morning

Brock: Wassup dude, you make it home safe?

Brian: Yeah

Brian: I'm curious, what do you do for a living?

Brock: I'm a trained nurse, hbu?

Brian: I keep the streets clean of scum like drug dealers 

Brock: Like a cop? That's cool, I think we should make plans to meet up sometime soon! 

Brian: Alright, ttyl. Got things to do

Brock: Bye

Brian puts his phone away and leans into the arm of the couch; he rubs his eyes and tries to relax. Brian was on break from missions but somehow found it hard to settle. He’s never been antsy from doing nothing before… maybe he’d see what Nogla was doing. The taller man was found in the computer lab, helping Anthony test out programs and update anti-virus protocols.

“Hey,” Anthony says, not taking his eyes off the monitors. Nogla looks up and gives a quick smile before ducking his head back down to look at the computers.

“Anyting I can help with?”

“Isn’t it your week off?” Anthony asks; finally looking up from the screen.

“Yeah,” Brian affirms, “But I'm hella bored.”

Anthony looks to Nogla who whispers something into his ear. Then he looks back at Brian and nods. “Yeah, could always use another set of hands!” Brian grins at the other two and pulls up a chair.

“Tanks, what do yah need?”

Anthony pauses in his typing for a moment and thinks; no doubt pulling up mental documents on his to-do list. His eyes light up as he turns away from Brian, searching through the computer files and pulling out a folder. The two Irishmen share a look of confusion.

“Ok,” Anthony begins to explain, “I need you to pull up our out-of-date data files and send them my way! It'll be more efficient this way, and I won't have to waste time searching through documents.” Brian nods his head and sets himself up at a monitor and pulls up the files. His eyes scan through each item listed, carefully examining each file to determine if he should send it to Anthony or not.

Evan walks into the room after a few hours of them working. “Anthony, I need to speak to you. Privately.” Nogla and Anthony share a look before the hacker follows Evan out of the room. The two Irishmen sit in silence for a few moments before Nogla turns to Brian.

“Ye can be done fer today, Bri,” Nogla dismisses. Brian nods before shutting down his programs and exiting the room. He aimlessly walks down the hall, no real destination in mind. He can’t seem to focus today. Brian comes back to reality once again and looks around. He found himself outside of Tyler’s room.

Brian takes a quick breath and knocks on the door. After a few moments, Brian hears shuffling on the other side. The door opens up and he is face to face with a sleepy Tyler. “What’s crawled up your ass?” Tyler asks half-jokingly; Brian rolls his eyes.

“Can I come in?”

Tyler grabs his wrist and yanks him into the bedroom. “What’s on your mind, man?” The taller worries as he seats Brian down on the bed.

“I've been antsy all day, can't keep still fer too long,” Brian sighs, resting his head in his hands.

“Any possible way it has to do with that guy you met?” Tyler teases, and from the look on Brian’s face, it did. 

“He’s like, a really cool dude,” Brian reveals, “I want tah be friends with ‘im, but I’d be putting the guy in danger at the same time!” Brian begins to unravel and rant about things he didn’t even know he was holding back. Tyler just soaks in all this information, not wanting to interrupt his friend.

“Brian, look at me,” Tyler says gently, lifting the other’s head. “I’m your friend, and I can’t tell you what to do. But I can tell you that you should do what feels right for you. Be friends with that Brock fellow, or don’t, I just want you to be happy, dude.” Brian pulls his friend into a hug and relaxes when the taller hugs back. Tyler ruffles Brian’s lazily combed hair and chuckles, “I love our talks and all, but I’d like to resume my sleep.” Brian bids him goodnight and leaves the room, heading towards his own.

-

Afternoon rolls around, and Brian heads out to meet Brock for lunch. The two decided to meet at an Applebee's not too far away from the Starbucks where they met. He was so excited, it’s been a long time since he’s made new friends. He entered the restaurant to find Brock already ordering a table for two, “Hey, Brian!” Brock beams; the man was practically glowing with joy.

“How’re you doin today?” Brian asks while the host escorts both of them to a small booth.

“I’m doing great today, but enough about me. I’d like to know more about you~” Brock playfully flirts causing Brian to roll his eyes.

“I’m boring, but whatever. Guess I can tell you a little about my life.” Brock rolls his eyes as well, laughing all the while. “I grew up in Ireland -no surprise there- with my small family. Did gymnastics for a while, trained in martial arts as a teen… moved here a few years ago. That’s about it,” He concludes his story. Brock childishly pouts, clearly unsatisfied.

“There’s no way that’s all your life, you had to have done something!”

“Nope, but you can tell me about your story, beautiful~” Brian winks playfully; Brock chuckles as he lightheartedly shoves Brian’s shoulder. Brock sighs as he closes his eyes with a gentle smile.

“I had a rough start; it was just my older sister and I. We lived on the streets for most of our lives. She constantly got into fights, and I would patch her up.” Brock opens his coffee brown eyes and leans his head into his hands. He stares up at Brian before continuing his story: “It just happened that one day she scraped up enough money for us to buy a ticket out of that shithole. Problem was, she could only purchase one bus ticket, and like the heroic big sister she was, my sis sent me on my way to some old friends of hers.”

Brian carefully watches every movement from Brock; inspecting how fast his smile turned sad and bitter. “Brock?”

“I'm fine, look, our food’s here. Let's enjoy the present, no need to sulk in the past!”

The two ate their respective meals, sharing jokes back and forth all the while. The outside world became non-existent as the two reveled in a good time.

The fun was cut short, however, as the shattering of glass silenced all other noise. A small group of masked men barged into the restaurant and pointed large guns at civilians. Brian sees Brock freeze up in terror, and allows his instincts to kick in. He grabs hold of Brock's wrist and pulled him along as they start running. Shouts fall upon their ears as several voices can be heard shouting “Terroriser”.

Brock feels his heart threatening to break free of his body with each thump; the adrenaline tearing through his veins burns. “Tis way,” Brian shouts as he guides them around a corner. Brian yanks out his phone and dials his emergency contact; “Guys, code red. I’ve been compromised, send help to my location,” he shouts into the phone before ending the call. Brian curses himself for not bringing a backup gun like he usually does. They sprint through the kitchen and out a back door that leads into an alley. He pushes Brock ahead just as someone catches up and knocks him to the ground. Brock was paralyzed with fear, watching as Brian and the attacker struggle on the ground. Brian pushes the butt of the gun into the other man’s face and gains control of the weapon.

Brian doesn't hesitate to shoot to kill his attacker. A shifting from behind makes him turn around, gun pointed towards a terrified Brock. Brian lowers the pistol and apologizes, coming back to his senses. They don't have time to stand around as more voices and footsteps could be heard closing in on them. Brian pulls Brock into the shadows of the alley, quickly yet quietly exiting the enclosed space. Just as they were about to make their escape, three more members of the rival gang trap them in by closing off their way to freedom. “End of the line, Terroriser,” one of the masked men states with a hint of giddiness. He pushes Brock behind himself and pulls out the gun, snarling at his attackers.

Everything happened so fast, Brian pointed his gun and shot at the three men as they fired back. The ex-agent’s gunshots hit their targets and took each enemy to the ground. Brian plugs in his earpiece, praying that it was connected to an open channel. “Guys! I need backup, now!” 

“Wildcat’s on his way,” Nogla responds. A gunshot rings through the air, being picked up in the audio of the earpiece. One of the wounded gang members shoots Brian in the chest. Brock shrieks as the man staggers to his feet when Brian collapses.

“Go away!” Brock shouts, pulling the gun shakily from Brian’s crumpled form. The attacker snickers maniacally.

“Do you even know how to shoot that puny handgun? You're shaking like a leaf!” The aggressor crackles. Brock narrows his eyes; exhales; and pulls the trigger, hitting the man in the head: right between the eyes. The man crumples to the ground; Brock drops the weapon and falls to his knees beside Brian, grabbing the earpiece and putting it on himself. There was shouting of many different male voices.

“Shut up!” Brock yells, shocking everyone into silence, “Brian’s been shot! I don't know who the hell you are, but someone needs to get here fast. He’s unconscious!” Brock hiccups a sob at the end, he was scared for his new friend's life.

“Roger that, I'm nearly there.” Someone calls out. Not even a minute later, an extremely tall man runs into the alley. “Hey, it's alright… I'm Tyler, now help me lift him into the van.”

Brock nods and grabs Brian’s legs as the taller man carries his top half. They stagger to a truck and carefully lay Brian down across the backseat. Tears were rolling down Brock’s cheeks as he hops into the back with his wounded friend; Tyler sits in the driver’s seat. The taller man hits the gas, and they weave through traffic in hopes of reaching their destination faster. Brock’s medical instincts kick in and he elevates Brian’s head as he pulls the other’s shirt off. “What are you doing!?” Tyler blurts out in confusion.

“I’m a trained nurse,” Brock begins, “I’m saving his life! Now, do you have any first aid?”

“Yeah, there’s a compartment under the passenger seat.”

Brock reaches down under the empty seat and pulls out the kit. He grabs a small pair of metal tweezers and reaches into the bullet wound; earning a groan from the still unconscious Brian. It doesn’t take long to pull the bullet out. Brock discards it and grabs some wraps and disinfectant. He cleans up the wound and wraps it with some weak gauze. "That'll have to do for now."

Chapter Text

Brian wakes up in a confused state. How did he get here? He tries to sit up, but the pain in his chest causes him to fall back to the mattress with a grunt. “Stay in bed,” a voice orders. Brian turns his head to find Brock watching over him with worry visible in those dark eyes.

“Why are you here?” Brian asks; the panic evident in his tone.

“Tyler said you tend to be mobile when you should be resting. I decided to watch over you since your friends were busy.”

“Sorry, it’s my fault you were in danger.”

Brock sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, next to Brian. “Don't say that,” he scolds. “Nothing that happened was your fault.” The two sit in silence until a knocking at the door breaks the tense air. “Come in, he’s awake now,” Brock calls out.

The oaken door creaks open to reveal Evan. “How are you feeling, man?”

“I’m feeling just fine, Ev, no need tah worry!” Brian assures; Evan sighs before turning his attention to Brock.

“Hey, I'm Evan by the way; nice to meet you,” he smiles; Brock returned the greeting with his own smile:

“I'm Brock, though I'm pretty sure you've already heard that from Tyler.” 

Evan opens his mouth to say something, but his phone buzzes and he groans in frustration. “Sorry, gotta step out and deal with this,” he mutters in annoyance. It was just Brian and Brock alone in the room once more.

“Do you uh, still wanna be friends after that whole fiasco?” Brian asks cautiously, earning a chuckle from Brock.

“Course I do!” Brock grins, “So, you wanna tell me about this gang business you're in?” The color drains from Brian’s face as he spots the mischievous glint in the other’s eye.

“Uhh, you see…” Brian sputters to Brock’s amusement.

“It’s ok! My sister, Michelle, was part of a gang, I used to patch her up all the time. She's actually the reason I went into the medical field!” Brock rambles. Brian snorts, ‘He's adorable’ he thinks before scolding himself for having such a weird thought.

“Knowing Evan, I'm sure tere'll be formal introductions,” Brian chuckles; and speaking of the devil, Evan pokes his head into the room once again.

“Hey, I'm back" Evan announces.

“Wassup?” Brian curiously asks, Evan shakes his head and sighs.

“Unnecessary drama that I shouldn't have to deal with,” Evan groans, causing Brian to raise an eyebrow, but the leader brushes it aside. Brian sits up, ignoring the pain and frustrated scolding from Brock.

“You owe me double time, Ev,” Brian grunts to his friend. “Jumping from a window and having tah scale down the side of a building, and now getting shot at the fohkin Applebee's!” He expressively waves around his left arm.

“You what!” Brock shouts in a state of shock, he could guess that Brian did dangerous things, but that was surprising.

“Oh no, it's not like tat Brock…” He tries to explain, but his words fall upon deaf ears. Brock stands up, expression unreadable, and walks over to Evan. Height wise, the gang boss had the upper hand, but Brock had a similar build to Evan. “Brian is on suspension from missions, under my care, until he is fully recovered.”

Evan stands there with a look of shock on his face, then looks to Brian, who gives an uneasy smile in return.

“Well, I was planning on keeping you here, for your own safety anyways, and Brian here was already on break…” Evan clears his throat. Brock relaxes his stance and sits back down. “Anyways, Craig should be up here with some food later on. I need to get going, see ya,” Evan informs before leaving the room.

The next day, Brian was already moving around and about (with Brock’s approval that is). The two leave the room and head downstairs towards the main room. Brian was shakily holding onto Brock as they traversed down each step. “You good?”

Brian nods in response; not trusting his voice to stay steady.

It wasn't long before they ran into another member of the gang, Marcel. “Hey, you must be Brock, thanks for patching up our buddy after that... incident.”

“Brock, tis is Marcel, our best gunman,” Brian grins, shocking the other gang member. “And yes, he already knows, smart nurse over here figured tings out,” Brian affirms.

“It was nice meeting you, Marcel, but my patient and I should get going!” Brock points out before leaving Marcel in stunned silence. “Now, you guys have any good video games?” Brock asks, a sly smile on his face.

“Of course! We're not hippies,” Brian teases back. Brock sticks out his tongue childishly as he searches through the ps4 games. Brian chuckles and sits down on the couch with a groan.

“Careful,” Brock calls out, mischief dancing in his eyes, “You don't want to open those stitches, or else you'd have to spend more time with me!” Brian rolls his eyes and leans back against the couch arm. “Aha!” Brock shouts with excitement, “Thought you guys would be too cool to play the Call Of Duty games.”

“Yeah, about that… video game violence is much less illegal and easier to stomach than in real life,” Brian informs with amusement laced in his tone. Brock sets up the game for Brian and himself and it doesn't take them long to be at each other’s necks. “Nooo!” Brian whines in defeat, gaining an amused glance from Brock. The noises of the small gaming session draws in a couple of the other gang members. Brian yelps in shock from Craig suddenly hugging him from behind.

“Careful!” Brock shouts in worry, “You might open reopen his stitches!” Tyler walks up behind Craig and lifts him off Brian.

“You heard him, rat,” the taller teases while snuggling Craig closer to his chest. Craig whines in protest, but eventually gives in and curls up in Tyler’s arms.

“Are you two…” Brock asks in confusion; a snort from Brian makes Brock's face glow bright red in embarrassment. 

“Yeah, I own his ass,” Tyler chuckles, getting a distressed ‘Hey!’ from Craig.

“What’s all the commotion about?” A new voice interjects. A thin, pale man with light brown hair walks into the room, the upper half of his face was covered by a bandana. “Some of us still have work to do!”

“Sorry, Ohm,” Brian greets, “How’s your day goin’?” The man by the name of Ohm huffs and softly shakes his head.

“It’s complete crap, Brian. I’m on break at the moment, so hand over the controller!”

“You’re up against my friend, Brock, here. He’s really good!”

Ohm smirks deviously and grabs the controller, analyzing his opponent carefully.

“You look awfully familiar and I never forget a face… I’ve got to ask, your name possibly Brock Barrus?” Ohm asks. 

Brock slowly nods his head in confusion. “Yeah, how’d you guess?” 

The pale man slips off his bandana to get a better look at him, Ohm’s eyes were an intense hazel as they scan over Brock’s face. “Min- er, Michelle’s brother?” 

Brock looked up in shock, how did Ohm know his sister? “Y-yeah…” Brock stutters out in shock. Ohm smirks.

“I’m Ryan, I used to work with your big sis before joining the bbs.” The pale man clarifies, nothing but warmth and kindness were held in his hazel eyes.

“DUDE!” Tyler interjects, “I thought you were just some nurse!” Craig playfully smacks his boyfriend in the face before mumbling something about being rude. “ ‘m just bein’ honest,” Tyler mumbles into the hand on his face.

“Anyways… have you heard from her recently?” Brock asks with worry, “I talked to Michelle in years.” A sad look glazes over his eyes, making Brock look rather lost. Brian felt his heart drop at his expression, so he wraps his arms around his friend. “Careful, your stitches!” Brock reminds rather exasperatedly.

“Whoops, I keep forgettin,” Brian admits, scratching the back of his head.

“Yes, she's doing quite well for herself, next time she calls I'll give her your best wishes!” Ryan said, “I've got to get back to work, see you around Brock,” Ohm leaves the room, tossing the controller back to Brian, and disappears down the hallway.

Chapter Text

Brian was finally healthy enough to start work again, and it's been a few weeks since Brock has first taken the role of overbearing caretaker. The rest of the gang has practically adopted him into their little family, and Brock wasn't against it. “Hey! Be careful Marcel!”

Marcel was being ‘mothered’ by Brock for running after Nogla shouting, “Son of a bitch, you're an asshole, David!” Brock had stopped the squabble before things could get violent.

“Look, killing Nogla won't solve the problem. And you'll most likely end up hurting more than just him,” Brock scolds.

“Yes, mom…” Marcel sticks his tongue out.

Evan had called an important meeting and everyone had to show up. Brian and Brock take their seats at the large conference table next to Tyler, who had Craig sitting on his lap like a child. “Alright, now that everybody is here, let's begin” Evan announces; starting up the projector which immediately shows a map of all the gang territories in Los Santos. “As you see here, we're either allied with or neutral towards all of the major gangs that make up the city. But recently…” Evan clicks a button on his remote, and the screen zooms into a small piece of territory. “We've discovered a new, rapidly growing rogue group that is potentially dangerous to the entire balance we've mastered.”

Whispers break out in the audience; some of confusion, and others with a bloodthirst to destroy these rivals. Evan silences the crew with a quick whack of his hand on the table, he begins speaking again once all eyes are on him. “They've been identified as the same rogues who attacked Terroriser and Brock a few weeks back. I'm currently working with Nanners to set up a small team to gather information on this new gang.” Evan scans the room before turning his eyes to Nogla, “I need you to cooperate with Mr. Sark to hack into their systems once I give the order,” then his eyes turn to Ryan, “Ohm, I need you to contact your sources.” The pale man nods. “Terroriser,” Evan turns his stern gaze to the Brian, “I need you in the shadows. Wildcat, watch his back. You two need to meet up with Minx and Sparklez at these coordinates,” Evan hands over a piece of scrap paper.

“What about us?” Brock asks as he gestures to Craig and himself.

“Our medic team, you two will be at the ready in case something goes wrong. Now if you'll excuse me, I have someone to be meeting.” Evan hurries out of the meeting room.

“Are you sure you're ready, Brian?” Brock worries over the other. “Your wound has only just finished healing, I don't want to chance a problem.” 

Brian places his hands on Brock's shoulders. “I keep tellin you, I'm fine. I'm a fully trained professional!” He grins at Brock, who nervously shuffles his feet. “Besides, I've got skilled people watching my back!”

“I believe you, just promise to stay safe?” Brock asks with hope glistening in his eyes.

“I promise,” Brian hums as he performs a crossing motion over his heart. “See! I'll be fine!”

“Get a room,” Tyler grumbles before making a gagging motion; effectively ruining the moment. Brian rolls his eyes and playfully punches Tyler’s shoulder. He waves goodbye to Brock before turning to leave the room. Soon the only person left was Brock who felt his nerves rising and grew tense.

 -

Brian and Tyler slam the truck doors shut and walk out to the warehouse. Minx was already standing there, ready to go. “Where’s Sparklez?" Tyler asks rather annoyed. The violet haired woman holds a finger up to her blood painted lips, and points towards a roof not too far away. There Sparklez sat, his sniper at the ready for a 'just in case' situation. Brian flashes him a devilish grin before turning back towards Minx. The two of them slink into the shadows; the assassin taking the higher ground while Brian snuck across the road. Tyler had his gun at the ready, keeping distance between himself and the warehouse.

Brian budges a window open and pokes his head in, scanning the area for traps and guards: the coast was clear. Brian slips the rest of his body into the building and hurries towards a set of stairs. The path of ascending steps brought him to another lifeless room, this one was full of boxes and packaging. He breaks into one of the smaller crates to find a supply of illegal drugs; Brian didn't even recognize most of them.

The clicking of boots on cold stone drew him from his distracted search; low voices could be made out. Brian ducks behind the larger boxes for cover: keeping his presence a secret. “Sir, are you sure we're prepared to make our presence known?” One of the men asks.

“Yes, our defenses and strategies are perfectly developed in case of an attack; besides, we've got some damn good weapons for sale. Our sales have doubled in the last few months!” the tallest figure confidently affirms. The group exits the open room through a metal door, leaving the storage space quiet once more. Once the coast was clear, Brian starts to open the other shipping crates to inspect the cargo. Guns, grenades, unarmed bombs, bulletproof armor... 

The amount of artillery was baffling, how has nobody noticed the contraband being sold before? Brian shakes the thoughts from his head, those questions will have to wait for later. Brian pulls out his phone and snaps pictures of the cargo; making sure to close the boxes after each photo.

“Agent Hanby, wanna let the team know of a status update?” Minx teasingly asks; static buzzing to life in the earpiece from her line.

“How many times do I have to remind you to never call me tat!?” Brian growls, rather annoyed with the assassin. “I'll inform yah once I'm no longer in danger of bein’ caught,” he hisses, venom dripping from each word. Minx and he share a long history: one that he'd rather leave in the past. Once the static in his ear silences, Brian begins to make his way back down the stairs. He cautiously hurries out of the warehouse. Brian was nearly to the window he had entered through when an arm hooks around his body, pulling him back; blade inches away from his neck. Brian slips from the unknown man’s hold and reverses the attacker; ramming the man’s body into the stone wall. “Wildcat, could use some help here!” Brian grunts into the earpiece, “But no guns, can't afford alerting the entire building.”

The attacker overpowers Brain again and pushes him to the floor, knife nearly touching his throat; only a hair’s breadth between knife and flesh. Both men struggled on the ground, and Brian felt himself on the losing side. He shuts his eyes tightly and turns his head to the side. Then, everything stops for a moment. He cracks open his eyes; Tyler slams the attacker’s head into the stone wall, effectively knocking the other man out. Tyler turns his attention to Brian and holds out a hand. “You doing ok?” He asks; Brian nods as Tyler pulls him up. On closer inspection, Brian found a bleeding cut from the knife on Tyler's face, inches below his left eye.

“Tyler!” Brian worries.

“I'm fine, now let's just worry about what we should do with him…” Tyler assures, both turn to look at the unconscious man.

-

Brock was worriedly awaiting Brian’s return. Over the time they've been friends, Brian and he had gotten so much closer. They just seemed to click. Brock's spacing out must have caught the attention of Evan, as the leader came over to sit by him. “Everything good?” Evan asks, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder. Brock was startled out of deep thought and looked over at Evan, confused. Evan chuckles and repeats his question: “I asked if you were doing alright.”

“Oh, yeah I'm fine. Just… thinking,” Brock admits; a shy smile on his face. Evan gives the other a suspicious look, but drops the topic altogether.

“How have you been, you know, being here with us?” Evan asks, he honestly did try to make everyone happy. It was one of his quirks, he was never satisfied unless everyone else was first.

“I'm really happy; thank you for letting me stay, Evan. For a powerful and feared gang boss, you're quite the big fuzzy pushover,” Brock playfully teases. Evan rolls his eyes and shakes his head; a grin finding its way onto the leader’s face. “I mean it though, you and this family you've built are the most generous and kind people I've ever met!”

“It's my duty, as both a human being and a person of power, to protect and to help others. Each and every person here has their own story; even Brian. Though he tries to convince us he's this heartless monster; Tyler, Anthony, and I probably would've all those years ago if it weren't for him.” Evan recalled, “And since then, Brian’s saved our family countless more times with his skills and killer instinct!” Brock stares at Evan in awe; he was about to ask about the story when a set of voices cut him off.

“We're back!” Brian calls out. Brock lights up with joy and nearly knocks Brian over with a tackling hug. “Oof, hi Brock… yes, I'm back!”

“You have no idea how much I missed you!” Brock excitedly hums, squeezing him tighter.

“Brock...can't breathe!” Brian gasps. Brock loosens his grip enough for the other to escape; Evan chuckles in the background. “And what’re you laughing at!?” Brian growls at him. 

“It's nice to not be on the receiving end of a rib crushing hug,” Evan sticks out his tongue. It confused the others in the room; they didn't know of anybody who hugged Evan like that. “Anyways, what did you discover on the mission?” Evan queries, his expression turning serious.

“That's actually what I came tah talk about,” Brian clears his throat as he steps away from Brock to better face his leader. “They've been dealing in powerful arms, I snapped a couple of pictures,” Brian explains. “And another ting, we've taken a man from their base… he attacked me on my way out.” Evan raises a brow while Brock lowly growls. “Tyler is currently securing the hostage as we speak, we tought he might be good fer questioning.”

“Alright, I'll be off to deal with him. You two better stay out of trouble.” Evan winks at Brian and Brock before walking out of sight.

“Are you hurt in any way?” Brock worries as he checks him over. Brian grabs Brock’s hands and pins them together on his chest.

“I'm fine, really! I promised yah tat I'd be safe, and I am. Tyler watched my back just like I said he would!” Brian smiles softly, locking light blue eyes with deep brown ones. “Why don't we make some popcorn and gather up some of the others to watch a movie?” Brian pitches; Brock grins at the idea.

They gather up Nogla, Ryan, Craig, Anthony, and Marcel to watch a movie; Tyler and Evan were questioning the captive, so they wouldn't be able to join in anytime soon. Brock leaves the group to get the popcorn and chips, only to come out and discover a new person he had yet to meet. The newcomer introduces himself Scotty: Marcel's boyfriend. Brian quickly explains that Scotty was on a mission that took him out of Los Santos, which was why Brock had never seen him before. Brock places down the snacks and sits on the couch next to Brian as the movie begins.

About halfway through, the remaining two members join the mini party. Brock was growing tired, so he leans into Brian’s side and drifts off to sleep when the Irishman wraps an arm around his body. Brian smiles as he listens to the other’s breathing even out, and felt his eyelids getting heavier by the second. It had been a long day for the both of them; Brian allows his own eyes to close, and his head to fall onto Brock’s, whose head was currently resting on Brian’s shoulder.

The movie had finished, and Nogla was waking up those who had fallen asleep, so they could go and sleep in their own beds. When he got over to Brock and Brian, he may or may not have taken a picture or three of the adorable scene before shaking Brian awake. “C'mon man, ye can't fall asleep on tah couch, it's bad fer yah back!” Nogla whispers to the other, “Wake up, Brian!”

“What time is it?” Brian grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before looking around.

“It’s almost midnight, ye lazy ass. Get up!” Nogla points out; the ex-agent squints as he eyes the nearest clock, the time read ‘11:43 pm’. Brian groans as he shifts, disturbing the warm body next to him. Brian winces a bit upon realizing that he had forgotten that Brock was on him.

“What time is it?” Brock croaks out. 

“Time to get a watch, dipshit,” Tyler blurts as he lifts an exhausted Craig up bridal style and carries him out of sight.

“It's time to go tah bed, Moo Moo,” Brian coos, getting an amused glance from Nogla. He shoots a death glare at him before pulling Brock up, “Come on, I'll bring yah upstairs!”

Brock hums in response as he lets the other lead him back to his room. Brian goes to leave for his own bed, when Brock clings onto his arm. “Can you stay with me tonight?” Brock sleepily asks, yawning at the end of his question.

“Guess I could tonight, only cause you're too adorable for yer own good,” Brian playfully flirts. “I'm gonna steal a pair of your pajamas, ok Brock?” Brian says before walking into the bathroom to change. When he walks back out, Brock was already in his pj's and cuddled up under the covers. “Scooch over,” Brian teases before getting under the covers himself. Brock shifts closer to Brian until he was pressed against him.

“You're so warm,” Brock mumbles sleepily. Brian chuckles before wrapping an arm around the other and drifting off to sleep. Brock sighs in content and falls asleep himself, relaxing in the warmth and calmness Brian brings.

This soon turned into a tradition: nearly every night, Brian and Brock would share a bed. It didn't matter whose room, all that mattered was how pleasant it was for both men. The shared space didn't just stop at nighttime routines either, Brian and Brock did nearly everything together. Each gang member took turns cooking during the day, so the two paired their turns together and would always create delicious meals.

Another thing was that they were always attached at the hip, one was never too far from the other; Brian and Brock just seemed to read each other’s minds. Everyone agreed that they made an awesome duo.

One day, while Brock was working with Craig on stitching up one of Marcel's wounds from his last mission, Brian found himself rather anxious and antsy; Tyler found him pacing around the halls. “What’s up, dude?”

“I don't know, it's just weird being away from ‘im…” Brian tries to explain, “It's just… being around him makes me happy and fuzzy inside.”

“You have a crush on Brock,” Tyler states rather bluntly, cocking an eyebrow.

“What! No, I just want to spend all my time with ‘im, and make ‘im laugh and smile, and to… kiss…” Brian freezes in shock; Tyler gives him a smartass look that practically says ‘told you so’. “Holy fuck, you're right!”

“So, you gonna tell him?” Tyler asks; Brian shuffles in place nervously and shrugs his shoulders. “Brian, you obviously like each other. Normal friends don't cling like this, and you two eye fuck each other all the goddamn time.”

“Ok,” Brian says confidently, “But yah gotta give me some advice!” The Irishman begs; Tyler rolls his eyes.

“Haven't you been on dates before?” 

“Well yes… but I never felt like tis with any of ‘em!”

“Then ask Craig about dating advice! He's the one that asked me out,” Tyler scratches the back of his head, rather embarrassed. “Besides, he's the cheesy romantic out of the two of us.”

“I will, tanks for the talk, Tyler!”

“Anytime,” Tyler grins at his friend. A couple of hours later, Brian catches Craig for a chat, just the two of them.

“Hey, Craig… Tyler said you're good with relationship advice, is that true?” Brian asks causing Craig to bubble up with excitement. He grabs hold of both Brian’s hands and looks at him dead in the eye.

“Who’s the lucky person?”

“Brock,” Brian mumbles, a slight hint of red tinting his cheeks and ears. Craig shrieks with glee and pulls the other into a spine crushing hug.

“Congratulations my son! I'm so proud! Have you asked him yet?”

“Ok, one, I'm older than you, and two, I haven't asked yet. That's why I've come to you.”

“You've come to the right man, and I know for a fact that he likes you back! My gay senses have been going off all week,” Craig exclaims. “So, let's make this romantic, but not too cheesy. Maybe bring him to someplace with significance.” Brian’s eyes light up with an idea, and he whispers the place in Craig’s ear. Craig claps his hands with excitement.

“But how should I tell him?” he grows nervous again as the thought of rejection makes itself known again. Craig notices the change in Brian's demeanor, so he places his hands on Brian’s shoulders.

“Just be yourself, your sweet, loving self,” he assures. “Now get a move on and plan accordingly!”

Brian nods and rushes off to his room, but not before thanking Craig. He plans out his outfit and decides to go with a casual look. Brian pulls out a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and a dark green jacket to top off the look. He smiles to himself in the mirror, his signature cocky-confidence growing stronger.

Chapter Text

Brian wakes up to his alarm going off; he grunts at the rude awakening before remembering the plan. He shifts under the weight of Brock as he reaches over and hits the snooze button. Brian yawns and rubs his eyes, turning his attention to the man next to him. Brock had his face snuggled into the crook of his neck; Brian smiles at the adorable man beside him.

“Wake up, Moo Moo,” he gently coos to Brock and slightly shakes him. “It's morning, and I can't get out of bed, till you get off of me.”

“Noooo, stay!” Brock moans, “You're warm and comfy and it's way too early!” 

“Sorry, but I gotta run down to the cafe, and your sorry ass is going tah tag along,” Brian chuckles; when Brock still refused to move, he turns to drastic measures. “I'll buy yah some pastries~”

With the promise of some delicious sweets, Brock practically leaps from the bed and stumbles into the bathroom to change. Brian shakes his head and chuckles quickly changing into his planned outfit.

The drive to the Starbucks was only a few minutes, and the early autumn wind nipped at their skin. “This brings back a few memories,” Brock sighs as he leans against Brian.

“Yeah.”

The line to order coffee didn't take too long. Brian let Brock pick out a couple of pastries, but Brock ignored the donuts and cinnamon rolls, instead selecting a single coffee s'more pie along with a vanilla bean frappuccino. Brian only ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream. They sat by the window and chatted.

“Hey, Moo Moo,” Brian swallows nervously, putting down his drink and looking at Brock directly; beads of sweat formed on his temple. Brock cocks an eyebrow at him, mocha brown eyes softly gazing into Brian’s sky blue ones. “I-I want tah ask you a serious question.”

“What’s up?” Brock asks, putting down his cup as well.

“Uh, I tink, no… I definitely like you as more tan a friend, and I was wondering if you'd want to go out with me?” Brian asks, mentally cursing at himself for being a stuttering mess. A smile grows on Brock’s face as he steps out of his seat to hug the other, tears of happiness rolling down his cheeks.

“Yes! A million times yes, Brian!” Brock beams; Brian crashes their lips together. Brock tasted sweet, making him even more addicting to Brian. When they finally separate, Brian wipes the tears of happiness from Brock’s face.

“I love yah, Brock,” Brian grins and steals another kiss. “I'm so happy I met you.”

“Mhm,” Brock hums; he closes his eyes as he savors the moment. When he opens them back up, Brock is met by Brian’s amused eyes. “What?”

“It was pretty obvious that we liked each other, now tat I'm tinkin back on it,” Brian explains with a smirk. “We should be gettin’ back soon, I'm sure Evan’s gonna want an account from everybody.” 

Brock nods and stands up, but not before getting one final precious kiss from the other. He finishes off the last of his drink and tosses it out; grabbing the pastry in his right hand, and interlocking his left's fingers with Brian’s right hand. The whole ride home was in comfortable silence, the radio playing some song Brian couldn't place his finger on; still holding hands with Brock.

Upon entering the base, they were immediately met with loud and obnoxious laughter. On the couch sat Anthony, cackling his ass off at who knows what. What was strange about the situation was the man sitting next to him. Mr. Sark, from Nanner’s crew, was smirking with a mischievous glint reflecting off his glasses. “I see you two fucks finally returned,” Marcel groans from the loudness, “At a bad time at that, they set Jiggles off.”

“I can see, and hear tat,” Brian shouts over the ruckus.

“What's with all the noise!” A female voice calls out, a voice that makes Brock’s heart skip a beat. He hadn't heard her voice in years. A young lady with long, straight violet hair and pale skin walks into the room. “Can't a girl get a moment of pea-"

Minx freezes when her eyes land on Brock. “Mi-Michelle?” He gapes in shock, “What are you doing here?”

Brian feels the tension build as silence falls upon them. He steps in front of Brock, shielding the other and interlocks their fingers.

“What am I doing here!? Why are you here, associating with a top rank killer!?” Minx chokes; gesturing towards Brian. Brock takes a deep, yet shaky breath to calm himself down before turning his gaze back to his sister.

“Michelle, meet my boyfriend, Brian.”

Minx’s jaw falls, along with Marcel mumbling something that sounded like ‘finally!’ under his breath. She recovers quickly and glares daggers at Brian. “So, Agent Hanby , how did you two meet?” She grits her teeth and Brian gives her a snobbish look as he says:

“We met at the cafe, and then almost died at an Applebee's, yah know, normal stuff.”

Brock snorts and playfully shoves Brian’s shoulder. “Ok, we weren't that close to dying! Besides, you couldn't have died with me around!” Brock giggles, forgetting about his sister for a moment until she loudly cleared her throat. The violet haired woman shoots a glare at Brian, who wears an expression of innocence.

“Can the three of us talk somewhere a bit more… private?” Minx harshly growls, earning a feigned look of hurt from Marcel. Brock rolls his eyes and leads both professionals upstairs to his bedroom anyways.

“So… what the fuck was that about?” Anthony asks in utter confusion. Marcel smirks as he makes his way over to the couch and plants himself down next to the loud man.

“I think Miss Trigger Happy tried to cock block our most frustratingly adorable otp,” Marcel explains, setting Anthony off once more off with the nickname.

“How long had they been beating around the bush?” Sark queries with a bit of interest.

“A little over a month of sexual tension for everybody present.”

“Were they not fucking before?” Anthony blurts out causing Marcel to break down into a fit of laughter.

In the bedroom, Minx was pacing back and forth in front of her younger brother and a person who she worked with for years. “I can't believe it… my brother is dating a murderer…” The violet haired woman mutters to herself.

“What makes you any less of a killer than me?” Brian snarls with anger.

“I joined to keep Brock safe! You kill for the hell of it!” Minx shot back, a predatory look in her eyes.

“At least I didn't abandon him like you did!” Brian snaps back with that same look of hunger in his eyes.

Brock’s composure snaps as he bolts upright, shocking the other two occupants of the room into silence. “I'm trying to be reasonable. I'm trying not to pick sides. I'm trying to hold my feelings down for this conversation.” Tears stream down his face, but he pushed his love and sister away when they attempt to console him. “What happened to turn you two like this?”

Brian and Minx don't fear much of anything, but that question sent chills down both their spines. The past was a door neither had ever wanted to open again. “I guess when yah work in the government, you meet people.” Brian starts. “Especially with England's and Ireland's governments.”

“We both learned how to be assassins, but a certain someone preferred much dirtier work than a simple killing.” Minx joins in as she takes a seat on the loveseat. “In a fight, we're evenly matched.”

“Made quite tah team we did,” Brian glances at her. “Till the day we nearly failed. We blamed one another, she nearly killed me over it.” The glance quickly turns into a cold glare.

“You know why I couldn't take the shot!” Minx shouts in anger. The room goes silent after that, Brock hugs his sister as the tears stream down her face. He whispers soothing things into his sister’s ear while rubbing small circles on her back. Brian was looking out the window, too afraid to make eye contact at the moment. “There was a little boy, made me think of you, Brock,” Minx sniffles.

Brian slowly stands up and walks towards the door, only pausing to say “I've got stuff tah do, so I'll leave you two be.”

“I'm sorry I lost contact for so long, Michelle whimpers into her brother’s shoulder after a moment of complete silence.

“It's alright.”

“It's not though! After you left Max’s, I didn't even try very hard to find you!”

Brock looks his sister in the eyes and gives her a soft, caring smile. “I went to college and got my nursing degree,” Brock changes the topic. He watches Minx’s eyes light up with delight.

“Really? I'm so proud of you!”

“I know.”

Chapter Text

Everyone piles into the large conference room, preparing themselves for the meeting. Brian notices how, alongside their gang, The Derp Crew and some of Nanner's connections were patiently waiting, anxiously chattering among themselves.

Evan begins the meeting by loudly clearing his throat; effectively silencing the room. “Recently -as most of you already know- we've become aware of a new and rapidly growing group of people who go by ‘The White Fang’ run by leader Adam Taurus. Thanks to photographs taken by both Minx and Terroriser, we've identified these people as illegal contraband dealers.” Evan announces as he shows off the images with the projector. “Nanners, Chilled and I have devised a plan to get this group off the streets for good.”

Evan clicks a button on the projector remote and the screen switches to a map of Los Santos with marks at different locations. “These are the locations our hacker team has pinpointed as the trading grounds for the next shipment.” He clears his throat once again and looks around the room and at the different faces all looking up to him before speaking once more. “From careful calculations, we have discovered The White Fang’s import-export schedule.”

Evan explained the tasks of the different teams and rotations for the mission. Then he announces something out of the blue: “I've brought in some outside help for the mission.” Two men in masks enter the meeting room, and Brian immediately recognized one of them as the infamous Delirious; he was wearing his famous blue hoodie and hockey mask. The other man was taller with a red demon mask and a black t-shirt. “This is Delirious and Cartoonz, I've entrusted them with the task of helping us.”

Brian narrows his eyes and analyzes the two killers; their body language and clothing more specifically. Other than the masks, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and even masks seem normal due to gang members like Ryan with his blindfold, or Chilled with his Mario hat. Delirious and Cartoonz take their seats at the table away from most gang members.

Scotty raises his hand and asks: “How do you know we can trust them?” A few people nod in agreement with the question.

Evan smiles calmly and makes eye-contact with Delirious before turning back to Scotty. “I trust them with my life, so you just gotta trust me.” Nobody doubted Evan, he's proven himself to have great instincts when it comes to trust. 

“Our first operation is to stake out these three locations.” The map changes again as Evan lists off three people, “Ohm to point one, and you'll be partnered with Krism. Basically to point two, Sparklez will be your partner. And 407 to the third point, and your partner is Gassy. Each of you will be given an envelope with information.”

Those whose names were called nod their head and Evan adjourns the meeting. He hands out the envelopes as everyone else files out of the room. Brian walks off towards the parking garage. He pulls a pair of keys off the wall and unlocks a small red Toyota Corolla.

Brian pulls out into the street and messes with the radio. He was headed out towards the indoor shooting range. It was a common ground for different types of people. Gangs would meet up to better their aim, rebellious teens practiced their shot, and strangers would compete for the fun of it. Brian has some fond memories of the range from each experience. 

He arrived, paid for an hour, and set himself up with a basic handgun. “Huh, didn't think I'd run into you here, Hanby.” A familiar voice calls out. Brian turns around to find Minx sporting a similar handgun to his; her hair tied up into a messy ponytail.

“What do you want, Minx?” There was a hint of salt in his voice. Minx rolls her eyes at him and positions herself in the booth next to his.

“To shoot targets. Don't get your panties in a twist over me.”

Brian huffs out a breath and looks forward. He narrows his eyes, breathes, and pulls the trigger three times on his exhale. Three perfect shots in the middle of the target. He looks over at Minx’s to find the same result. She meets his eyes with that cold stare, but it melts into something Brian couldn't quite put his finger on.

“How's he been doing lately?” 

“Why don't ya ask him yerself.”

“Because I want to hear it from you.”

Brian’s own hardened gaze softens. He breaks their eye-contact to collect his thoughts. “Brocks been doin’ great. He fits in really well, even acts as tah voice of reason. Like a mother hen occasionally.”

Minx hums in agreement, a smile on her painted lips. “That's Brock for you. Even as a kid, he would always fuss over me whenever I got injured.” Minx sighs and looks over at Brian again before saying: “You have to promise me that he'll be safe with you. That you'll always protect him.” Brian was caught off guard by the sudden request, but there was no doubt in his mind.

“You have my word. Though I can't promise that he won't throw himself into a fight to protect anyone,” Brian softly chuckles. He knew he had the same look of bittersweet happiness on his face that Minx wore. 

Minx and Brian share one more look before they go back to target practice. They were enjoying the comfortable silence they shared; like two old friends meeting up for a cup of coffee.

-

Ryan, Marcel, and Scotty all return the next day and all meet with Evan individually to discuss what they had learned. That meant the next steps were about to be set in motion; Brian and Brock were both called in by Evan. They arrive in the meeting room just as Delirious was walking out; Brian noticed a slight bounce in the man’s step.

It’s not long before they realize that they were the only ones in the room with Evan; the gang boss must have noticed the confusion on their faces as he immediately cleared up the issue: “Don’t worry, the rest of the group will be arriving shortly. I just wanted to talk to the two of you first.” They sit down in the closest chairs to Evan as he clears his throat. “I actually want to talk about your training, Brock.”

“My… training?” Brock tilts his head in confusion.

“Yes,” Evan begins to explain. “Every person in the gang needs basic gun and hand to hand combat training, no matter what skills they have a bias for.” Brock nods in understanding with a soft ‘ah’.

“And I guess tat's where I come in?” Brian asks; Evan nods his head in confirmation. They end the conversation there as the footsteps and rambling of more people could be heard walking towards them. In walks Tyler and Anthony arguing about who would look hotter as a cheerleader; Scott or Craig. Brian decides to pipe up to just end the stupid conversation by stating: “I tink I would look best as a cheerleader!”

The room finally falls silent, and Brock goes red in the face; hiding his head in his shirt: embarrassed about his boyfriend's openness. He dies a little more of embarrassment when the others in the room -except for Evan- agree.

Evan clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention so he can start the meeting. “Our reconnaissance team has created a layout of each shipment port.” Evan unfolds a map and draws an imaginary box with his finger, “You four will be taking out this sector here. Chilled’s team will take out this sector,” Evan points to the other half of the map.

“What about this section?” Brock pipes up and points to the dead middle.

“That's where our third team will dispatch. Delirious, Cartoonz, and I are going for the head of this serpent.” Tyler and Brian exchange a look at this statement. “The two of them are some of the best whether its hand to hand or shooting accuracy. With my knowledge of explosives and combat combined with their skills, the three of us are best equipped for this mission.”

“Speaking of missions,” Anthony pipes up, “What exactly is our goal?”

“It’s our job to interfere with the trade. We’ll destroy as much of their supplies as possible. We cannot allow for this trade to go through no matter what happens; nor can we get the police involved. Everyone got that?” They nod their heads. “Good. I’ll call you back at a later date, for now, you are dismissed.”

-

“Brian, where are we headed?” Brock asks. Brian had guided him to one of the cars in the parking garage and told him to get in. They had been driving for the past few minutes now and Brock still had no clue as to where they were going. “Brian, I’m serious.” The Irishman still doesn’t say anything until they pull up to a red light, and he turns his head to look Brock directly in his eyes.

“Remember how Evan said you need proper gun training?” Brock just nods his head slowly, still not quite getting how this relates. “Well, there’s tis place that I go to clear my head- hey what’s with that look?” Brock furrowed his brows at his boyfriend... when did Brian ever leave the base without his knowing? The light turns green and Brian turns his attention back to the road. “I haven’t gone as often as I used to, but I sneak away when yer busy.” They pull up to a concrete building after a couple more minutes; there weren’t many cars in the parking lot.

They step out of the car and Brian leads the way into the building, Brock opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by the ringing of a gunshot. He covers his ears in shock and jumps a little. “You brought me to a shooting range?!” Brock asks with widened eyes. Brian smirks a little and pecks a comforting kiss on his boyfriend’s temple.

“It’s the best place to practice and learn, and tat’s coming from a trained double agent.”

Brock lets out a breath he didn’t even know that he had been holding, “If you’re sure about this, then I trust you,” Brock sighs to his boyfriend. Brian nods to a lady at the desk and she hands over a card; it looked like some kind of clearance keycard. Brian leads him down the hall and into the shooting range. He selects an empty concrete half-room away from any other people; not that there was much of anybody here, only some young adults who looked to be in their early twenties. Brian swipes the card through a chip reader, and a panel clicks open to reveal some guns: simple handguns mostly. Brian puts noise deafening headphones on himself and Brock.

He gives Brock a comforting smile and says: “I’ll go first ta give ya a demonstration, then I want you to mimic my stance.” Brock nods in understanding and watches his boyfriend pick up what looked like a pistol, hold his arms out, put his finger on the trigger, and BANG! The target up ahead had a gunshot hole in the perfect middle. “Now, of course, I’m an expert, so my aim and accuracy are near perfect normally, and are beyond perfect on the best of days.” Brock rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s gloating and steps up to take Brian’s spot. He takes the pistol from Brian’s hands; making sure to keep his finger off the trigger. He raised his arms much like Brian had, though he must have shifted a bit since Brian placed both hands on either shoulder and straightened his stance. “Relax, Moo Moo,” Brian coos into his ear. When he does, Brian raises his hands a bit, but bends his elbows. “When you’re standing, try to keep your legs shoulder-width apart, and keep one slightly forward to counter the knockback.” Brock does as he’s told, faint memories coming back:

“Straighten your stance!” Michelle growls in his ears. He gulps and does as he’s told, but he didn’t know why he had to learn this. His sister seemed to have read his mind, though, because her facial expression softens. “Oh, Brocky. Out here, in the streets, it’s dangerous. You know this! You can’t just play nurse all the time! You need to know self-defense, even if it happens to be with a gun.” He bites his lip and nods, facing forward toward the empty glass bottles, readjusts his body, and pulls the trigger. He hits his target.

“Now, shoot!” Brian orders and Brock does. He hits the target almost as perfectly as Brian did. “Woah…” the Irishman mutters to himself. Brock feels his hands shake as he gently puts the gun down on the shelf. He meets Brian’s eyes and gives his boyfriend a shaken smile.

“That good enough?” His words shook slightly, but it was hardly noticeable; at least, that’s what Brock thought.

Brian quickly clears his throat before speaking: “It was good, but you were too hesitant. You need a faster reaction time, not to mention you need to automatically get in stance. Never ever take your eyes off the target. Now, again.” Brock repositions himself, with Brian’s help naturally, and pulls the trigger again, and again, and again until Brian was satisfied. Brock lost track of time; it felt like an eternity by the time they were walking out the door. He happily drags Brian back to the car and yawns once the car’s engine roars to life. Maybe he could close his eyes for just a few minutes.

Chapter Text

A few weeks pass by of training and Brock finds himself feeling excited about each lesson; besides training with the guns, Brian also took it upon himself to personally teach Brock basic hand-to-hand combat. They started with a basic form such as Karate, since it was all about self-defense. They spent a good two weeks, a few hours every day, practicing before moving onto another form of training: boxing.

Brian explained it as going through basics quickly, yet efficiently. From what Brock understood, Brian would have them switch back to Karate again at some point; it was like a rotation. “Basically, I ‘ave to teach ya what I learned from years an’ years of trainin’ in a few weeks.” Brian had explained.

Luckily for them, Brock was a rather quick learner and already had a great reaction speed from living on the streets at a young age. It was one day, however, that was different. Brock went to meet his boyfriend in the gymnasium in the base when he was attacked from behind. He sees the attacker at the last moment before quickly turning and blocking. His eyes widen upon realizing who it was; “Michelle?!” Brock's jaw drops in surprise. Her violet hair was pinned up in a ponytail, and she was wearing a striking, yet mischievous grin on her face.

“So you have been learning well, though I was trying to test your teacher, not you.”

Brock quickly pulls her into a hug and feels a warmth enter his chest; seeing her would never get old for him. “Why would you want to test Brian? Don’t you already know how he can fight? You two worked together, didn’t you?” Brock teases, the last comment being a rhetorical question.

Michelle rolls her eyes and playfully punches Brock in the shoulder. “Doesn’t mean that he’s not slacking. We got to keep him on his toes or else the bastard gets a bit too cocky.”

And speaking of the devil, Brian enters the gymnasium at that moment, unintentionally breaking up the cute sibling moment. “What's goin' on over ‘ere?” 

Brock and Michelle exchange a mischievous glance, one that gives Brian a bad feeling. “Nothing really, just checking in on my little brother is all~” She hums innocently; patting Brock on the head before walking towards the exit. Brian doesn't let down his guard in the slightest, watching each of her movements cautiously. They're side by side when she attacks him; both of them switching to their alternate personas.

Brock watches in awe how Brian blocks Michelle's attack, sweeping her legs in the process. She hits the floor far too fluidly to be from Brian's attack, and pulls him to the ground as well, trying to pin him against the mat. Brian rolls out of the way and picks himself right back up; Michelle also lands back on her feet. Brock watches as his sister and boyfriend spar; despite the serious and focused looks both shared, Brock could detect faint hints of smiles on both their faces. Brock realizes how long it must've been since either of them has had a good fight, or even just trained together.

The fight ends with Brian successfully pinning Michelle against the mats. “You seem a bit rusty, Minxy. That girlfriend of yours must be great at settling you in if I was able to get you this fast.” Brian cheekily teases. Michelle grins while flipping Brian off in response. He stands up and offers her a hand, “You put up a good fight, though.”

Brock excitedly claps for the both of them and pulls them in for a group hug. “You both did great, I hope to hold a candle up to your flames one of these days.”

-

Long after night settles, Brian startles awake: his eyes search the room as he tries to calm his breathing. He reaches his arm out to his left: his hand comes in contact with something warm. He turns his eyes and relaxes once he finds Brock peacefully asleep. He relaxes his hold on his chest and tries to remember what had panicked him. He can somewhat recall a gunshot echoing through his ears and a phone. Something wet dripping down his hand... Brian shakes the thoughts from his head.

“Bri?” Brock’s sleep-filled voice fills the silent air. “Are you alright?” Brian wipes his eyes; he didn’t even realize that he had been crying. That must've been the wetness he imagined, yeah totally… 

“Y-yeah, just a night terror,” Brian mutters, forcing a slight chuckle at the end. He can hear Brock adjusting himself in the bed, and then a pair of arms wrap around his side. “Tanks, Brocky…” Brian gets a hum from his boyfriend in return. As he slips back into his slumber, the nightmare becomes nothing more than an unpleasant feeling.

-

The fateful day had arrived. The day of Brock's first mission as a member of the BBS. Despite the limited last-minute training, Brock felt ready. Though, that didn't stop Brian from fussing over him. 

"Stop it! It's not like I even need to leave the van… I'm only there in case of injuries," Brock rolls his eyes at Brian. "Besides, I've got Anthony there with me in case the unlikely event that something does happen." 

Brian pouts when Brock playfully slaps his hand away. "But it's my job to keep you safe!" Brian whines, half-joking to lighten the mood.

Brock, once again, rolls his eyes at Brian. "You're job is to destroy an evil operation. Not be an overprotective boyfriend."

"Nah, he can do that too. Trust me, that excuse never stops Craig from babying me," Tyler pops up behind Brock: startling him. Brian playfully punches Tyler in the shoulder, chuckling:

"Ah'm not babying him! Right, Brock?"

After sharing a quick look with Tyler, Brock bursts out laughing, followed by Tyler snorting. Brian continues to pout until Anthony shows up with the van. "Y'all ready to kick some ass!" It wasn't a question, but it also wasn't a false statement. Tyler whooped while Brock and Brian wear matching grins.

The drive to their safe zone was long; a few hours of driving. On the way, both Tyler and Brian were counting and recounting their bullets. Brock, on the other hand, was switching between watching them, looking out the window, and going through his medical supplies. There wasn't a lot of stuff: just the basics. A normal first aid kit, numbing agents, a thick cloth, extra stitching supplies… everything there was stuff that Brock recognized from his time at school getting his medical license. 

It was dusk by the time they arrived at the safe zone. Anthony pulls to a stop in the shadows before putting the van in park and setting up his equipment. He had a link with Ze: the tech operator on the Derp Crew's side. Anthony hands both Tyler and Brian their communicators. "Even though we're all linked, there's an emergency contact to home base in case something goes wrong-" Brock feels his heart drop to his stomach; he prays that Brian comes out unscathed. "-Press that red button there three times and then hold it the fourth to get in contact. It's designed that way so you don't accidentally butt dial." Anthony jokes to lighten the mood. Both Tyler and Brian let out soft chuckles; Brock couldn't find it in himself to enjoy the humor. "Remember, the goal is to plant the bomb in the storage unit and get the hell outta there. No goofing around." Anthony reminds them.

"We got this!" Tyler grins with confidence as Brian secures said bomb on his person. Brock was just thankful the bomb was remotely activated from the van so Brian and Tyler couldn't accidentally blow themselves up. The four of them spend the next few minutes planning routes of possible escapes with a map the reconnaissance team was able to draw up. It was decided that the bomb should be detonated when both Brian and Tyler were halfway back as to draw the enemy's attention away.

A beep pulls Anthony's attention towards his setup. "Looks like it's go-time boys!"

Brock pulls Brian in for a good luck kiss before watching the Irishman hop out of the van and disappear into the darkness.

Anthony and he sit in an unending silence; praying for everything to go right. 

Every once in a while, Brian or Tyler's voices could be heard through Anthony's laptop. They'd report an area as cleared while Anthony watched through the hacked cameras to keep them safe; he was quietly directing their path to avoid guards.

After a while, Anthony breaks the silence between the two of them, probably sensing Brock's nervous energy. "Brian's amazing at what he does. He's been through the worst and still came out on top." Anthony says without moving his eyes away from the screen. The sincerity in his words help Brock to relax his tense posture, but it doesn't quite settle him all the way down. Still, Brock appreciates Anthony's attempt to soothe his worries. Every now and again, Brock's eyes flitter over to the laptop and keep watch on Brian and Tyler.

They watch Brian enter the storage container through an 'employee's only' door. Without any cameras inside, they could only sit with bated breath until he came back out. It's dead quiet in the van. No movement from either him or Anthony. Brian's been gone from the cameras for a while by now, but Tyler was still visible standing outside the building.

Then Brian suddenly appears on the camera again as he exits through the door. He must've successfully planted the bomb. Anthony quietly guides them back. They quickly reach the halfway point and Anthony activates the bomb. The explosion is loud enough to hear it from the van. Brock's heart races as he watches them book it back. 

Suddenly Brian and Tyler get separated within the chaos of guards rushing about. Brian takes the high ground while Tyler weaves in and out of paths; jumping chain fences and knocking over debris.

Brock tenses immediately as he listens carefully. He grabs a gun from the compartment, grabbing Anthony's attention. "Do you hear that?" Brock asks. Anthony shakes his head, not hearing anything. In the quietness of the night, Brock could make out the gentle humming of an engine that was getting louder and louder. His eyes widen upon seeing headlights. He sees a few bullets whizz past the windshield. "Out of the car now!" Brock shoves Anthony out. "They found us! Call for backup! I'll lure them away!"

With little argument, Anthony manages to grab a gun, his laptop, and an earpiece before hiding in the dark shrubbery. Brock puts in an earpiece himself as he switches the car to drive and floors the gas. Brock was thankful for the lack of pedestrians at this time of night. Looking into the rearview, Brock sees how close the car was to his bumper. Suddenly the earpiece crackles to life: "Brock! What's happening!" It's Brian's voice.

"Uhh, currently I'm trying to lose a tail…" Brock quickly takes a right onto a side road to curve back towards Anthony in hopes of shaking off this guy. "I might've lost him!" Brock grins upon not seeing him anymore.

Out of the corner of his left eye, Brock catches a glint of a bright light heading right towards him. It only takes a split second to process it, but not enough time to react. The other car slams full speed into the left side of the van. Everything goes by in a blur of pain. Suddenly, the van's crumpled and Brock finds himself on his side.

There's blood everywhere. 

He barely has the strength to unbuckle himself, but he still manages to pull himself from the car wreck. Through the shattered window. Glass and asphalt cut into his palms and fingers, but he fought through the pain. He's almost free from the wreck, but the clicking of a gun freezes him in his spot. "Your times up." A rough female voice rings through his ears.

Brock looks up to see a woman with a bloody nose pointing a gun at him. She must've been the driver that hit him. Brock suddenly remembers the gun still inside the van and mentally kicks himself for forgetting it. "That's where you're wrong!" A familiar voice yells out as a figure tackles the woman. Brock can't make out who it is, his vision was spinning. "Bri-" Brock manages to croak out. His vision clears for a moment and he recognizes that it's Tyler who just saved him.

Tyler manages to knock the gun away from the woman; the firearm skids over to Brock, but he can't muster the strength to get it. Suddenly Tyler rears back and hisses, clutching his eye. "Bitch!" He growls, wrestling with her to keep her from getting the gun. Pushing himself, Brock shakily gets his hand around the gun and forces himself slightly upright with an elbow. Gritting his teeth, he shoots the woman in the leg, narrowly missing Tyler. She cries out and clutches her leg. Tyler uses the opportunity to snatch the gun from Brock and shoots her straight in the head.

Panting with exhaustion, Tyler drops the firearm and walks over to Brock. He carefully picks him up; Brock cries out in pain. Tyler mutters an apology and begins to walk. Brock gives into the darkness .

Chapter Text

Darkness surrounded Brock. He felt as if he was floating in nothingness. Every now and then, though, pain would flair through his system. Someone was squeezing his hand, but it was too loud and too bright to focus on anything else. Each time, the pain would be too much and Brock would find himself once more floating in darkness. It happened a few times before a long nothingness finally takes over. 

The next time he wakes up, the pain was gone, but it was still too bright. He grunts and shifts his body. "Brock!" Someone quickly appears at his side, cupping his cheek.

"Bri?" Brock croaks as he squints hard.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here." Brian's voice wavers.

Brock shakily reaches up to touch Brian's face, "Did we do it?" His voice a shaky whisper.

"Yeah, we did it."

Slowly, his eyes adjust to the lighting. Looking around, Brock discovers that he was in his room in his bed. He sits up with some effort -much to Brian's dismay- and shoves the blankets off of himself to discover a cast around his right leg. He blankly stares down at it before turning to Brian. "I… I don't remember much of what happened… after the crash."

Brian grimaces at the memory. "After your line went dead, we all feared someting bad had happened. Tyler was much closer to you than I was, so he took off. I was already with Anthony when we saw Tyler returning… he wasn't in very good shape, but you were in a much worse condition. There was so much blood… and your leg hung all bent from Tyler's arms… You looked so small and broken in that moment. I was so scared that I lost you."

Brian was on the verge of tears, so Brock pulls his face closer to his own and kisses his boyfriend. "I'm alive. And you're alive. That's all that matters." 

"You're right," Brian states as if he only just realized something. "We're alive and together!" Brian bends down on one knee beside the bed and holds Brock's hand in both of his own. "Brock Barrus. Despite tah fact tat we have been dating for a short amount of time, it feels like we've known each other for millennia! Will you allow me to take your hand in marriage so tat we may always be together?" 

Brock was speechless. So, he did the only thing he could: he pulls Brian up from the floor and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. When they break apart, Brock finally finds the words he was looking for: "Together forever."

-

When Tyler comes to visit him, Brock sobs over his friend's injury. What had once been his left eye was now covered by an eyepatch; a thin scar ran under the eyepatch, just barely visible from underneath the eyepatch. "I'm so sorry…" Brock whispers as he hugs Tyler.

"It's alright, really! Didn't know the bitch had a knife. It's my own fault for not being careful enough." Tyler gives Brock a lopsided smile. "Anyways, so what's this I hear about an engagement?"

The conversation falls into a casual, normal theme. It felt like nothing had happened. Brock gushed about how adorable Brian was while Tyler recalled how cheesy Craig had been on their first date. Tyler couldn't stay for long, however, since he had to help out Evan with some work. Brock says goodbye and watches his friend leave; still feeling like it's his fault that Tyler got hurt.

-

Brock spends the next few weeks recovering. He has many different visitors as he heals up. Most of his time healing was spent with Brian. They discussed wedding ideas; arguing over small things in hopes to make their wedding day perfect.

As soon as Brock had gotten off the cast, Brian put him back in training. He needed to be sure another incident wouldn't happen, so he trains Brock to be just like him. Michelle even butts in to make sure Brian wouldn't miss anything by accident. His sister and fiancé slowly bridged the gap between them with a shared goal: the protection and happiness of Brock.

The Wedding Day came quicker than anybody expected. Both wore matching black tuxedos with black bow ties. It was a small wedding with guests from the bbs gang and a few other miscellaneous friends. Michelle walks Brock down the aisle and stands by his side as best woman/maid of honor. On Brian's side is his best man: Tyler.

They both say "I do" when the time comes before crashing their lips together to tie their fate together from now and into the future.

The reception was a chaotic mess, but everyone had a good time. At one point, Michelle clinks her glass and stands; clearing her throat, she starts to talk. "A toast to the grooms! From your sister, Michelle. I love you, Brock, more than anything in the world. And if that doofus brings you happiness, then who am I to stand in your way! To Brian, you're still a bloody wanker, but I trust you to take care of Brock. I hope you two live ridiculously long lives and adopt like a hundred cats or something!"

When Michelle sits down, tears are streaming down her face. People start to whoop and cheer. At the end of the day, all the groups go their separate ways.

Brock and Brian don't go on a honeymoon, but instead, relish each other's company among their friends.

They still do missions with the gang, and Brock goes on a few himself. He still trains with Brian and his sister, and he still takes on the role of medic alongside Craig. He was still the team's mom-friend, even scolding Evan on the occasion. After the hardships throughout his life, Brock finally found his happy ending, and it was with this family he found on accident. 

-

Brock wakes up in the middle of the night to a shuffling around. He sits up and groans, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Brian," he calls out. "Where are you going? Come back to bed."

"Sorry, Moo Moo," Brian whispers to his husband; placing a gentle kiss onto Brock's temple. "Didn't mean tah wake yah. I got called in for a last-minute mission."

Laying back down and curling up into the soft bedding, Brock hums softly as his eyes close once more. "Call me when you're on your way back…" Brock yawns as sleep starts to cloud his brain once more.

"I'll be sure tah do tat."

When Brock wakes up in the morning, he's confused by Brian's side of the bed being empty. Then he remembers the conversation from last night. He pulls out his phone checking to see if he had any missed calls, but there was nothing. Brock doesn't worry about it too much and just starts his day as he normally does. It's some time afternoon when he gets a vague text from Brian.

Monday 1:26

Brian -> Brock

Brian: The mission is taking longer than previously thought. See you soon <3

Brock: <3

It was a short conversation that doesn't lead anywhere, but Brock tries to not give it much thought. It's later that night when Brian finally calls:

"Uh, hey, Brocky *cough* I'm, uh, really sorry for not coming back tah bed."

"It's fine… are you alright?" A wave of dread passes over Brock.

"I'm doing better already just by hearing your voice! Look, I don't know how much longer-" a series of wet coughs force their way up from Brian's throat. "I'm not coming home anytime soon, so I'm sorry."

"Brian! You're scaring me! What's happening? Why aren't you coming home soon! Our three year anniversary is almost here, and there's no way I'm spending it without you!"

Sad chuckles fill the call from Brian's side of the call. "I had a nightmare… three years ago," Brian mutters. "At first, I was afraid that it was about you. On our first mission together. But, luckily it wasn't that."

"Brian?"

"It was nice hearing you again… bye, Brock."

"Brian!?"

Silence drowns out the call. Tears flood down Brock's face as he tries to comprehend what just happened. He quickly rushes out of his bedroom and makes for Evan's office: knowing full well that the gang boss wasn't asleep at this hour. Upon bursting into the office, he finds Evan kissing a brown-haired stranger in a blue hoodie. The hockey mask laying on the table besides them immediately gives away this stranger's identity, but Brock can't comprehend it at the moment. The two men jump away from each other; their faces bright red. "Brock?" Evan asks, concerned for his friend who was sobbing.

"Somethings happened with Brian! I- I got this ominous phone call from him! And… and-" Brock collapses to his knees and whimpers in distress. Evan leaps away from his chair and curls his body around Brock, comforting his distressed friend. Evan and the stranger make brief eye-contact before the man puts on the hockey mask and quietly creeps out of the office. 

That's how the two of them stay the rest of the night. It's well into the morning when Anthony finds them to report the bad news. Brian Michael Hanby died from a gunshot wound to the chest during the night. He bled out before backup could find him.

Brock goes with Evan to see the body of the man he married nearly three years ago. At seeing Brian's lifeless form, Brock nearly breaks down again. His only solace was that Brian looked at peace. Brock goes to hold his love's lifeless hand, only to immediately wretch his hand back. Brian's blood stained his hand.

Looking at his own blood-covered hand made Brock want to vomit. Seeing how close his friend was to a panic attack, Evan guides Brock away from Brian's corpse. They go to wash off Brock's hand and to sit in silence. 

For the next few weeks until the funeral, Brock didn't sleep. He was despondent most of the time and looked like a complete mess. His found-family tries to comfort him, but nothing really gets through. The funeral itself was hard to get through. Friends went up to give eulogies, though Brock didn't remember any of them. Eventually, it's his turn to go up:

"I loved Brian with all my heart. This is gonna sound cheesy, but it really was love at first sight for me. Though, I didn't really know at first," a few sad chuckles make their way through the audience. "We met at a Starbucks, and that's also the same place where we began dating a few months later. Brian was my sunshine, but now he's-"

Brock doesn't finish because he suddenly chokes on a sob. In his grief, he runs away from the funeral. He hears his name being called by several people, but he doesn't stop running. His legs carry him to a secluded pond. Brock doesn't know how long he sits there, but a hands on his shoulder startles him. He calms down upon seeing that it was only Tyler. They sit in silence, neither needing to say a word. Tyler and Brock grieve silently together: a best friend and husband cursing the world for its cruelty.