(no subject)
Ahaha. I love how writing Tiny!Brian is so incredibly therapeutic for me.
The worst part about being so fucking small now is the damn car seat.
"It's the law," Frank tells him earnestly as he buckles him in. "We wouldn't want to disobey the law, Brian."
Brian doesn't know how Frank convinced the others he's a responsible adult who is perfectly capable of taking care of Brian 'in his current condition'.
He kind of hates the world at the moment, and Gerard is right near the top for pointing out the need for car seats in the first place. And because he keeps adding 'in his current condition' to everything when he talks about Brian.
Brian has the body of a three year-old for Christ's sake, he's not pregnant or riddled with disease.
"Frank, I will kill you in your sleep." Threats never work with Frank, but it makes Brian feel marginally better.
Frank grins at him, and pats his head as he double-checks to make sure Brian's properly buckled into the car seat. "You're really kind of adorable when you say things like that, you know," Frank says. "It's a good thing the doctor told us to document everything you do."
He doesn't really have it in him anymore to be suspicious of Frank when he knows how the fucker's mind works. There's a bag sitting on the passenger seat from the local Target with a brand new digital camera that's probably going to see more use in tormenting Brian than being for its intended purpose.
This was actually the third doctor they've taken him to since his transformation, and the news wasn't any better. A call to Pete from Mikey had lead them here, to some wondrous, magical doctor Pete knows who, like everyone else, has absolutely no idea what happened to Brian.
Brian's not sure he expects any of the doctors he sees will find anything, but at least this one is trying to figure out what the hell happened. They have orders to come back in a couple of weeks if Brian isn't back to normal by then. In the meantime, they're supposed to write down everything Brian eats, drinks, and does on a daily basis, as well as taking pictures at the beginning and end of each day to see if there are any changes, no matter how small.
Squinting up at Frank, Brian feels a little of his own frustrated anger lessening at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes and way his smiles doesn't sit quite right. Brian knows this whole situation has been easy on anyone, but Frank's better at covering than Brian realized.
And maybe Frank's not such an asshole because he stuck by Brian the entire time the doctor was running his tests. He did everything he could to annoy the hell out of Brian while they waited for the results to keep him distracted.
Someone else could have, and definitely should have, taken Brian to see the doctor with the band still on tour, but Frank had volunteered and no one challenged him.
"You're an asshole," Brian says, and tries to catch Frank's arm with his foot. "Don't kill us on the trip back."
Frank gives him a wounded look for that, which, okay, doesn't really work because it's Frank. “Brian, that hurts,” he says, and places his hands over his heart. “It hurts my heart, Brian.”
Brian's eyes narrow. If he wasn't strapped into the super deluxe mega whatever the hell kind of car seat the guys had bought, he'd be going for Frank's throat. There's only so much leeway gratitude gives an asshole like him.
Faking a tearful sniffle, Frank locks the last bit of the car seat in position and taps the little jingly, light-up Winnie the Pooh mobile over Brian's head to get it moving. “I love Winnie the Pooh, don't you Brian? A guy who has a rumbly in his tumbly is pretty awesome in my book.”
Brian's going to make Frank eat his damn book when he's back to normal.
Proving he's smarter than he looks, Frank ducks out of the car door and shuts it. Brian watches him walk around to the drivers side and hopes he'll be back to normal before they have to make the drive back here. He'd love to still have a band when this is all over, and he's afraid there's a very real possibility he's going to kill Frank before then.
Frank starts looking through the shopping bags after he buckles his own seatbelt, and Brian can tell it's not going to be good when Frank giggles to himself. A few seconds later he's holding up a CD case with cartoon figures on the front. “The girl at the electronics counter recommended this CD for you. She said her nephew absolutely loves his.”
Brian starts trying to undo the buckles and straps keeping him safe and secure in an effort to get to Frank when he pops the CD in. It's not bad enough it's a CD of nursery rhymes, but it's sung by kids with high, shrill voices, and Frank's just laughing his stupid head off.
To hell with making it through the next two weeks, Frank's going to be lucky if Brian doesn't kill him before the end of the day.
The worst part about being so fucking small now is the damn car seat.
"It's the law," Frank tells him earnestly as he buckles him in. "We wouldn't want to disobey the law, Brian."
Brian doesn't know how Frank convinced the others he's a responsible adult who is perfectly capable of taking care of Brian 'in his current condition'.
He kind of hates the world at the moment, and Gerard is right near the top for pointing out the need for car seats in the first place. And because he keeps adding 'in his current condition' to everything when he talks about Brian.
Brian has the body of a three year-old for Christ's sake, he's not pregnant or riddled with disease.
"Frank, I will kill you in your sleep." Threats never work with Frank, but it makes Brian feel marginally better.
Frank grins at him, and pats his head as he double-checks to make sure Brian's properly buckled into the car seat. "You're really kind of adorable when you say things like that, you know," Frank says. "It's a good thing the doctor told us to document everything you do."
He doesn't really have it in him anymore to be suspicious of Frank when he knows how the fucker's mind works. There's a bag sitting on the passenger seat from the local Target with a brand new digital camera that's probably going to see more use in tormenting Brian than being for its intended purpose.
This was actually the third doctor they've taken him to since his transformation, and the news wasn't any better. A call to Pete from Mikey had lead them here, to some wondrous, magical doctor Pete knows who, like everyone else, has absolutely no idea what happened to Brian.
Brian's not sure he expects any of the doctors he sees will find anything, but at least this one is trying to figure out what the hell happened. They have orders to come back in a couple of weeks if Brian isn't back to normal by then. In the meantime, they're supposed to write down everything Brian eats, drinks, and does on a daily basis, as well as taking pictures at the beginning and end of each day to see if there are any changes, no matter how small.
Squinting up at Frank, Brian feels a little of his own frustrated anger lessening at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes and way his smiles doesn't sit quite right. Brian knows this whole situation has been easy on anyone, but Frank's better at covering than Brian realized.
And maybe Frank's not such an asshole because he stuck by Brian the entire time the doctor was running his tests. He did everything he could to annoy the hell out of Brian while they waited for the results to keep him distracted.
Someone else could have, and definitely should have, taken Brian to see the doctor with the band still on tour, but Frank had volunteered and no one challenged him.
"You're an asshole," Brian says, and tries to catch Frank's arm with his foot. "Don't kill us on the trip back."
Frank gives him a wounded look for that, which, okay, doesn't really work because it's Frank. “Brian, that hurts,” he says, and places his hands over his heart. “It hurts my heart, Brian.”
Brian's eyes narrow. If he wasn't strapped into the super deluxe mega whatever the hell kind of car seat the guys had bought, he'd be going for Frank's throat. There's only so much leeway gratitude gives an asshole like him.
Faking a tearful sniffle, Frank locks the last bit of the car seat in position and taps the little jingly, light-up Winnie the Pooh mobile over Brian's head to get it moving. “I love Winnie the Pooh, don't you Brian? A guy who has a rumbly in his tumbly is pretty awesome in my book.”
Brian's going to make Frank eat his damn book when he's back to normal.
Proving he's smarter than he looks, Frank ducks out of the car door and shuts it. Brian watches him walk around to the drivers side and hopes he'll be back to normal before they have to make the drive back here. He'd love to still have a band when this is all over, and he's afraid there's a very real possibility he's going to kill Frank before then.
Frank starts looking through the shopping bags after he buckles his own seatbelt, and Brian can tell it's not going to be good when Frank giggles to himself. A few seconds later he's holding up a CD case with cartoon figures on the front. “The girl at the electronics counter recommended this CD for you. She said her nephew absolutely loves his.”
Brian starts trying to undo the buckles and straps keeping him safe and secure in an effort to get to Frank when he pops the CD in. It's not bad enough it's a CD of nursery rhymes, but it's sung by kids with high, shrill voices, and Frank's just laughing his stupid head off.
To hell with making it through the next two weeks, Frank's going to be lucky if Brian doesn't kill him before the end of the day.