Trust Once, Never Again
Title: Trust Once, Never Again
Prompt: Word #151 - 15minuteficlets
Time: 15:10 [mm:ss]
Words: 646
Edits: None
Notes: Mm. Wasn't quite sure how to start it ... but I did. Somehow. Sort of. I don't particularly like it... anyways. Click for other Brian!verse ficlets.
---
"Welcome back, Brian."
Brian smiled weakly at the person who greeted him. Once upon a time, he knew the name of every face in the building, but that had been so long ago. "Thanks."
In response to that, the other smirked, almost as if saying, "Don't bother thanking me. It's not worth the trouble." Brian, to say the least, was confused, but he let it slide. Some had briefly greeted him. Most had given him a pitying or suspicious look before moving on.
The lobby looked the same as when he had left it, but the atmosphere felt different. Years ago, he would enter the place thinking of it as a second home, but now he felt a slightly hostile air wherever he went. He had changed greatly over the years; he had turned into a traitor, though not willingly, and no longer owed his loyalty to this side. The air felt different because no one trusted him anymore.
He was, he realized, no longer welcome here. However, this did not stop him as he continued wandering aimlessly around. Someone had given him an invitation, and his boss thought it this would be the perfect chance to snoop the other side. Wrong. Brian knew that from the start, but he might as well come, right? Wrong again.
"Brian," someone called. He turned on his heel to find himself facing a much shorter woman. "Come with me."
"Where to?" he asked, weary of following people like a stray dog. Parents often told children to never follow strangers. He never learned that lesson until he landed in this business of street wars. At that point in life, he started to consciously heed the warning.
"No where dangerous. Just follow." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, but followed anyways. There weren't many who wanted to talk to him here. Plus, after years of working for this side, Brian knew which corridors spelled death for visitors.
They finally came across a door. Upon it was a gold plate with the name "Liam Green" engraved in it. He gulped, finally realizing where the woman was taking him.
She knocked on the door, but entered before anyone responded. However, she had not bothered holding the door for her guest. Brian barely slipped in before the door closed.
"Thank you, Sasha," said Liam. The woman nodded her head and exited again, leaving the two old friends alone. "Well then, Brian, welcome home." Brian returned a wry smile. "Have a seat." He did so. The chair was wooden with a very low back. For some reason, sitting in the uncomfortable chair gave him an uncomfortable feeling. "How have you been?"
Brian remained silent.
"Or should I ask, how was it working for the enemy?"
His fingers twitched, but he remained otherwise motionless.
"No word?" Liam smirked. "Not a single word? Staying silent for the enemy, but not for us?"
"It wasn't like that," Brian mumbled.
"Speak up; the tape recorder can't hear you."
Brian glanced down at the tape recorder on the desk. The record button was not pressed. "It wasn't like that," he repeated, no more loudly, but more clearly.
"Oh? Then how was it?"
"I didn't go there willingly, if you recall. I think," he said, suddenly having an accusatory tone, "that you set it up. You."
Liam scoffed. "Me? No one would believe that."
"No one would believe anything. No one believed I was gone, if I remember correctly. Yet somehow, everyone remembered who I was afterwards. You did it. You set the whole thing up. Why?"
"Do they trust you?" Liam asked, sidestepping the question completely.
"Do you?" Brian stood up.
Liam stood as well, but his movement was slower. "After all we've been through together? I trust myself."
"And so do I." Brian turned and left, angered that even his once-was friend would not believe him.
Prompt: Word #151 - 15minuteficlets
Time: 15:10 [mm:ss]
Words: 646
Edits: None
Notes: Mm. Wasn't quite sure how to start it ... but I did. Somehow. Sort of. I don't particularly like it... anyways. Click for other Brian!verse ficlets.
---
"Welcome back, Brian."
Brian smiled weakly at the person who greeted him. Once upon a time, he knew the name of every face in the building, but that had been so long ago. "Thanks."
In response to that, the other smirked, almost as if saying, "Don't bother thanking me. It's not worth the trouble." Brian, to say the least, was confused, but he let it slide. Some had briefly greeted him. Most had given him a pitying or suspicious look before moving on.
The lobby looked the same as when he had left it, but the atmosphere felt different. Years ago, he would enter the place thinking of it as a second home, but now he felt a slightly hostile air wherever he went. He had changed greatly over the years; he had turned into a traitor, though not willingly, and no longer owed his loyalty to this side. The air felt different because no one trusted him anymore.
He was, he realized, no longer welcome here. However, this did not stop him as he continued wandering aimlessly around. Someone had given him an invitation, and his boss thought it this would be the perfect chance to snoop the other side. Wrong. Brian knew that from the start, but he might as well come, right? Wrong again.
"Brian," someone called. He turned on his heel to find himself facing a much shorter woman. "Come with me."
"Where to?" he asked, weary of following people like a stray dog. Parents often told children to never follow strangers. He never learned that lesson until he landed in this business of street wars. At that point in life, he started to consciously heed the warning.
"No where dangerous. Just follow." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, but followed anyways. There weren't many who wanted to talk to him here. Plus, after years of working for this side, Brian knew which corridors spelled death for visitors.
They finally came across a door. Upon it was a gold plate with the name "Liam Green" engraved in it. He gulped, finally realizing where the woman was taking him.
She knocked on the door, but entered before anyone responded. However, she had not bothered holding the door for her guest. Brian barely slipped in before the door closed.
"Thank you, Sasha," said Liam. The woman nodded her head and exited again, leaving the two old friends alone. "Well then, Brian, welcome home." Brian returned a wry smile. "Have a seat." He did so. The chair was wooden with a very low back. For some reason, sitting in the uncomfortable chair gave him an uncomfortable feeling. "How have you been?"
Brian remained silent.
"Or should I ask, how was it working for the enemy?"
His fingers twitched, but he remained otherwise motionless.
"No word?" Liam smirked. "Not a single word? Staying silent for the enemy, but not for us?"
"It wasn't like that," Brian mumbled.
"Speak up; the tape recorder can't hear you."
Brian glanced down at the tape recorder on the desk. The record button was not pressed. "It wasn't like that," he repeated, no more loudly, but more clearly.
"Oh? Then how was it?"
"I didn't go there willingly, if you recall. I think," he said, suddenly having an accusatory tone, "that you set it up. You."
Liam scoffed. "Me? No one would believe that."
"No one would believe anything. No one believed I was gone, if I remember correctly. Yet somehow, everyone remembered who I was afterwards. You did it. You set the whole thing up. Why?"
"Do they trust you?" Liam asked, sidestepping the question completely.
"Do you?" Brian stood up.
Liam stood as well, but his movement was slower. "After all we've been through together? I trust myself."
"And so do I." Brian turned and left, angered that even his once-was friend would not believe him.