Not a failure (Pinky and the brain fanfic)
(A/N: I wrote this hurt/comfort story to celebrate the 30th anniversary of my favorite mice. These two have always been special to me in my heart, and I knew I had to make something for them. even if I haven't been in the fandom for a while. also, this is kind of a tickle fic, so if you're that person who finds tickles weird, please dont read.)
Lee: Brain 🩷 Ler: Pinky 💙
Brain sat motionless on his side of the sardine bed he shared with Pinky. The lab was silent, save for the soft hum of distant machinery. But inside Brain’s mind, the noise was deafening.
Was he plotting another scheme for world domination?
Not tonight.
Tonight, his thoughts turned inward.
Thirty years... he murmured to himself, the words heavy with exhaustion. Pinky and I have been trying to take over the world for thirty danm years...
The same routine. Night after night. A brilliant plan. A near success. A sudden collapse. And then—reset.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Brain lowered his head into his hands. His eyes stung, and despite squeezing them shut, the tears came anyway. He bit his lip hard, hoping the pain would drown out the ache in his chest.
But it didn’t
It was all too much.
“I was supposed to be brilliant,” Brain whispered into the silence. “I was supposed to make the world better for all kind. And yet…”
He stops to think of all his past failed plans. “…I can’t even get step one right...”
A sob tore through his throat before he could stop it. His shoulders shook. His tiny frame heaved as hot tears streaked his cheeks.
From the corner of the cage, a voice spoke softly:
“Brain..?”
It was Pinky. Walking in their cage, with a concerned look on his face
Brain flinched. He turned his head sharply, trying to compose himself, though his face was damp and his eyes betrayed him.
Pinky tilted his head, his long ears drooping a little as he stepped closer. “Are you… crying? Poit.”
Brain opened his mouth to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. “N-no, I—” His voice cracked, betraying him again. He turned away, ashamed. “It doesn’t matter. Leave me be, Pinky!”
But Pinky didn’t move. He tilted his head, his big blue eyes glimmering with concern. “But, Brain… you’re crying. I’ve seen you get all huffy and frowny before, but I’ve never seen you cry. Narf.”
“I‘m not crying!” Brain snapped, his voice louder than he intended. The echo in the cage made him wince. He shrank back, clutching his zigzagged tail in his paws. “…I don’t cry.”
Pinky walked closer, sat down on their bed next to Brain’s. “It’s okay if you do,” he said softly. “Sometimes it hurts too much to keep everything squished inside, y’know? Like soda in a bottle—if you keep shaking it up, it’s just gonna explode. Just tell me what's wrong…”
At first, Brain went silent.
Then he turned away. His tiny fists clenched in anger. “You really wanna know what's with me?! Fine!” Brain yelled at Pinky angrily, with tears forming in his eyes, “ I am a failure, Pinky! Don’t you see? Every night, every plan, every carefully calculated scheme—it all crumbles! I have dedicated my whole life to conquering the world, and yet all I’ve conquered are my own delusions. What’s even the point anymore?”
His voice cracked at the end, and more tears spilled freely now. He shook, no longer able to hold them back.
“What’s the point of me…?”
Pinky looked shocked. He heard Brain call himself many things—“Superior,” “Genius,” “Mastermind”—but never this. Never so small.
“Brain…” Pinky whispered, reaching out a trembling hand. He touched Brain’s shoulder gently.
“Don’t—” Brain tried to shrug him off, but his strength failed. “Don’t waste your pity on me. I am not worth it.”
But Pinky ignored Brain’s warning and wrapped his arms around Brain, pulling him close in a warm, unshakable hug.
“You're not a failure Brain …” Pinky said calm and softly.
Brain froze in Pinky’s embrace. His little body went rigid, his instincts screaming at him to pull away, to insist that sentiment was weakness. But his strength was gone. The words he wanted to use—sharp, dismissive, logical—died in his throat, drowned beneath the sound of his own broken sobs.
Pinky held him tighter, rocking him gently. “Shhh… it’s okay, Brain. Just let it all out. Narf.”
And Brain did.
He buried his face against Pinky’s chest, shoulders shaking as years of bottled-up frustration and sorrow came pouring out. Sobs wracked his body, his claws clinging to Pinky’s fur like a lifeline. For once, he didn’t try to hold it in. For once, he let himself be small.
“You’ve never been a failure,” Pinky whispered, stroking Brain’s back with a paw. “You’re my best friend. You’re the bravest, smartest mouse I know. I don’t care if your plans work or not. You matter, Brain. To me. Poit.”
Brain tried to answer, but his voice cracked, and all that came out was another choked sob. Pinky only hugged him closer.
“You don’t have to be perfect all the time,” Pinky continued softly. “You don’t have to carry it all alone. You’ve already made the world better, Brain—at least for me. You gave me a home. You gave me a purpose. You gave me…you.”
Brain’s sobs quieted a little. His chest still heaved, but the tightness inside it was loosening, little by little, as Pinky’s words sank in.
“…You… really mean that?” Brain croaked, his voice muffled against Pinky’s fur.
“Of course I do,” Pinky said with a gentle smile. “Even if we never take over the world… we’ve already got something pretty amazing, haven’t we? Each other. And that’s enough for me. Troz.”
Brain stayed nestled in Pinky’s arms longer than he ever thought he would allow. His sobs had quieted now, replaced by deep, shaky breaths.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward or heavy.
It was gentle. Cozy, even.
Pinky rested his chin delicately atop Brain’s head, swaying him in a slow, soothing rhythm. “See? Doesn’t that feel nicer, Brain? Just letting me hold you and letting all that stuff out?”
Brain grumbled, his voice muffled against Pinky’s chest. “…It is… marginally acceptable.”
Pinky giggled. “Sooo, is that a yes? Narf!”
Brain pulled back just a bit, his ears twitching in flustered protest, cheeks tinged pink beneath his snowy fur. “I suppose… yes.”
Still cradling him, Pinky beamed. “You know, Brain, if you’re still feeling a little sad… I might have just the thing to cheer you up.”
Brain raised a skeptical brow. “Oh really? And what, pray tell, might that be?”
“This,” Pinky replied, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Before Brain could react, Pinky launched a surprise tickle attack, wiggling his fingers against Brain’s sides with gleeful abandon.
“P-Pinky! Wh-whahahat ohohohn earth ahahare yohohohou—?!” His protest broke off into an undignified squeaky giggle as his body squirmed helplessly.
Pinky giggled, wiggling his fingers playfully up and down on Brain’s sides. “Tickling you, Silly! You’ve been all sad and frowny for too long. Narf! Laughter is the best medicine, y’know!”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAH! IHIHI DEHEHEHEHEHEMAHAHAHAHAND YOHOHOHOHOHOU TOHOHHO STAHAHAHAP AHAHAHAHT OHOHONCE!“ Brain barked between gasps, though his squeaky laughter betrayed him. His cheeks burned redder with every undignified giggle that slipped through.
“Nope.’ Pinky happily teased, nuzzling the top of Brain’s head as his fingers kept dancing along Brain’s ribs. “Not stopping till you're all happy! Troz!”
“THIHIHIHIHIHIS IHIHIHIS UHUHUHUNDIHIHIHIGINIHIHIHFIHIHIHIHIED! UHUHUHUHUNAHAHACCEHEHEPAHAHABLE! STAHAHAHAHAHP!” Brain ordered, but his tiny body was shaking too much with laughter to look intimidating. His little legs kicked helplessly while he tried to squirm away from Pinky’s fingers.
Brain wriggled and squirmed under Pinky’s touch, his normally controlled voice breaking down into helpless squeaks and bursts of laughter. His tiny body jerked and twisted, but Pinky’s arms made it impossible to escape.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” Pinky playfully sang, wiggling his fingers mercilessly on Brain’s ribs. “Your sadness has to go somewhere, so I'll trade them for giggles, troz!”
“PIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINKY! *snort* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *snort* S-STAHAHAHAHAHAP *snort* THI-HIHIHIHIS!” Brain gasped between wheezing snorts, his round ears twitching furiously as his laughter betrayed him.
“Awwwwww, Brain! I didn't know you snort when you laugh.” Pinky cooed, scibiling both of his hands into both of Brain’s sides. “That’s adorable! Narf!”
Brain’s cheeks burned crimson while laughing, mortified at Pinky’s remark.” DOHOHOHOHOHON’T *snort* CAHAHAHAHAHAHALL *snort* IHIHIHIT THAHAHAHAHAHAHAT *snort*” He protested with giggles.
But Pinky only tickled faster, fascinated. “Oh, I can’t help it, Brain! You sound just like a teeny weeny little piggy! Poit!”
“NOHOHOOHOHOHO IHIHIHIHIHI *snort* DONONONONONONON’T *snort*” Brain denied, his face flushing red even more as he laughed uncontrollably.
His little fists thudded feebly against Pinky's arms as his fingers danced wildly over Brain’s body—especially his tummy, his absolute worst place to be tickled.
“PIHIHIHIHIHNKY! *snort* STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP *snort* IHIHIMMEHEHEDIHIHIATELY! *snort* IHIHI *snort* C-CAHAHAHAN’T *snort* BAHAHARE IT! *snort* ” Tears began to form at the corners of Brain’s eyes, his chest hitching with each breathless laugh.
Pinky paused mid-tickle when he noticed, his expression softening. The big goofy grin melted into gentle concern as he loosened his hold. “Oh…” he whispered, seeing the watery gleam in Brain’s eyes. “Egad Brain… I didn’t mean to go too far. Poit. Are you okay?”
The laughter slowly ebbed into shaky little chuckles as Brain finally caught his breath. He wiped quickly at his face, clearly embarrassed to have been reduced to such a state. “Ihihi… I dehehetest suhuhuch… undihihignified displhahahays…” he muttered hoarsely, though his blush betrayed him.
Pinky pulled his hands back completely and instead reached out to rest one paw gently on Brain’s shoulder. “Sorry, Brain. I just wanted to see you smile. I didn’t mean to make you cry again. Even if they weren't sad tears. Troz!”
Brain hesitated. He blinked at the tall, lanky mouse beside him—the same one who had just reduced him to squeaks and snorts, and yet was now looking at him with nothing but pure, earnest worry. Slowly, Brain exhaled, his ears lowering. “…You don't need to apologize, Pinky. Though your methods were… questionable, I must admit…”
His voice softened, just above a whisper. “…It did help. More than I expected.”
Pinky beamed, tail swishing as though he’d just won the jackpot. “Really? You mean it, Brain? Narf!”
Brain offered the faintest nod, his gaze averted and cheeks still tinged with pink. “Thank you... for being here. For always being here—even when I haven’t earned it. I don’t deserve such unwavering loyalty, yet you give it without hesitation.”
Without hesitation, Pinky leaned down and wrapped Brain up in another hug, but this time gentler, mindful of how exhausted Brain must feel after all the laughing. “Always, Brain,” Pinky murmured, resting his chin on his friend’s head. “I’ll always be here for you. Poit.”
Brain, though stiff at first, let himself relax into the embrace. His eyes slipped shut as the warmth of Pinky’s arms surrounded him again. For once, he allowed himself to simply be held.
no schemes. no calculations. just comfort.
And for the first time that night, Brain’s heart felt a little lighter.