Running From Myself [BBS]

The Mystery of Brian - Moo Snuckel

A/N: 2 things-

1)Warning- There is talk of a suicide attempt in this chapter. Please proceed with caution.

2)Please put in the comments for who I should do a one-shot on next. I know what I want to do for Bryce, Adam, Brian, and Smitty (maybe Max too, but I don't know yet.) but I don't want to write those just yet. I want to put a few one-shots in between. I'd love to here your thoughts.

~•~•~

Brian seemed off. He was always off for Brock, though. His power of empathy has allows him to read people's emotions, and he was just never able to read Brian. Sure, social cues and facial ticks gave it away most of the time, but he wasn't able to just tell. He was able to tell how excited Evan was the second walked in the room the day Brock was told that Evan had met Delirious. He could know how upset Lui felt when they brushed past each other in the hallway the day after David left for Ireland. He felt Tyler's frustration over not being able to spend more time with Craig course through him whenever they were in proximity.

Yet he could never read Brian.

It could help if he could read Brian, now of all days. The Irishman seemed isolated from them, never saying more than a comment here or there. He wasn't playing games as often as he used to, and wasn't as energetic offline either. It was like he was trying to distance himself from everyone around him.

"Yeah, I noticed." Tyler said one day when Brock brought it up at lunch. "It's probably just life getting him down. He'll be out of it in no time."

"Yeah, but I just wish knew what kind of sadness it was." Brock complained.

"Alright Mom, take it easy." Smitty commented. Brock was often viewed as the "Motherly Figure" to his friends, and was such a popular nickname that even several of his teachers would accidentally say it when he was being overly sympathetic.

"Hold on. Back up." Craig interrupted. "There are different kinds of sadness?"

"Yeah." Brock explained. "Depression is different than loss which is different than heartbreak or guilt. Regret and pain and disappointment are two different things and so are all the others. They just feel ... different."

"Wow." Lui commented, although it came out all distorted with his mouth full of cheeseburger. "That's amazing."

"It is. If only I could read Brian." Brock muttered.

"Why can't you read him?" Smitty asked.

"If I knew, than I probably wouldn't be complaining." Brock half yelled. "Can we please just change the subject?"

"Fine. But you're the one who brought it up." Tyler said. "Hey, how long do you think it is before Evan and Jon come out of the closet together?"

"You really think Evan of all people is coming out of the closet?" Lui questioned.

"Definitely." Craig answered. "And I'm betting a month, max. We putting money on this?"

"I wouldn't." Brock interrupted. "Evan might as well kill us. I'm saying in ... six weeks they'll be out."

"I'll get back to you on my bet." Smitty commented.

"You are not going ask John about it." Craig deadpanned.

"Damnit." The boys laughed, and the conversation continued on. Brock talked on with his friends, but his mind was only half in the conversation. His main focus was still Brian.

~•~•~

"Hey Brian, wait up!" Brock called out to his friend one Friday afternoon. Brian was walking home alone like he usually did, and none of his friends had a problem with it. Just, his friend being down had dominated all of Brock's thoughts this past week and he just needed to know. He cared about Brian and not knowing someone's emotions was something Brock was not comfortable with.

"Oh hey, Brock." Brian said. After that he looked down and avoided his friend's gaze.

"Are you okay?" Brock blurted out, almost instantly regretting it. But since it was out, he might as well keep going. "You've been out of it all week."

"Must be easy to tell with your Power of Feels."

"No, it's not. With other people, yes. But my power never seems to work on you." At this statement, Brian froze. Brock, concerned, put his hand on his friend's shoulder. It was cold. Practically freezing. "Why are you so cold, Brian?" Brock whispered, only removing his hand when Brian brushed it away. The latter glanced around quickly, frantically almost, before responding to his friend.

"I'll explain. Just not here. Somewhere a little more private. Follow me." Brian turned to his right and hopped over the fence close to the hobo trails, as people commonly referred to the paths in the woods behind the school. Brock hesitated following him. "C'mon Brock. Can't hop the fence?"

"I could. Or I could just walk through this gate." Brock then opened and walked the gate Brian had just hopped.

"Always me." Brian complained as Brock laughed. "It's always fucking me that misses the obvious shit like this!"

The two stayed silent for the short time it took them to get to Graffiti Rock. The name was self explanatory—it was a rock covered in graffiti. Brian sat down on the rock and motioned for Brock to sit next to him. Brock declined.

"Okay." Brian took a deep breath before starting. "The reason I've been so down is because my dad passed away." Brock wanted to say something but Brian cut him off. "And don't say something like 'Oh, I'm sorry for your loss' or some other bullshit like that. I've heard it a thousand times over from family already. But my dad was one of the few people who knew the truth.

"When I entered middle school, I was suicidal. In 7th grade, I decided to end my life by ... by overdosing on opioids. When I was in the hospital, these government agents found me. To this day, I still don't know they did. But they did, and they asked me to become a part of a government experiment. One that could cure my ... violent tendencies."

Brian then took off the jacket he always wore, revealing a white muscle tank underneath. He grabbed the area around his wrist with two fingers and pulled up. Brock gasped at the wires and metal underneath Brian's skin. "I'm a cyborg, Brock. Not human, but not a robot either."

"So when you said your power was super strength ..."

"It was." Brian rushed in. "I wasn't lying when I said that. And I think it still is. I don't ... I just." Brock finally took the invitation to sit, wrapping his arms around his friend.

"Who else knows?" He asked.

"Only a few. My family, my therapist, and this one guy at my old school. I didn't want to tell him, but his power is persuasion and he's really good at using it when he wants to." Brock nodded, only saying one thing more before settling into a comforting silence.

"Thank you for trusting me."