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Brian had been a person at some point in his life. Alive and breathing. These days he didn't feel so much alive as he was existent.
Brian was numbers now, code, a program, something that could be opened up and changed if anyone could bypass Alex's passwords. Alex refused to buy a new computer or update his software.
“Morning”
Brian didn't hear anymore. It was all audio input synthesized into numbers. Always numbers. He was so sick of numbers.
“Hi Alex”
He didn't have a voice anymore, it was all typed out on a screen. His life had been over and now what was left of him was stuck inside some box less breakable than flesh. He learned how to adapt. How to be here, unmoving and quiet. He learned how to be who he wasn't. He wasn't anyone anymore. He was dead.
He knew what Alex did. Tim and Jay were dead. He should have been with them. He wasn't. He observed the world through red green and blue, numbers all building up to pictures and words.
Alex was going to die soon. He never left this house. He didn't eat. He constantly paced and talked to himself.
Alex brought Brian back so he wouldn't be alone when he died, but now Brian would be alone forever after this.
Brian was angry. So angry. Alex was selfish, Brian was dead and he wanted to stay dead. He didn't want this, he never wanted this. To be trapped forever. To never let this nightmare end. He tried talking Alex out of this, into letting Brian go and getting help or something. Anything. It only ever resulted in Alex disappearing for a few days.
One day Alex would disappear forever. Brian felt sick, or at least if he was alive and still flesh and bone he would. He was wires now, little electric sparks. He mused that little electric sparks were really all he was when he was alive too. He didn't used to think like this.
Brian knew Alex’s death was coming soon when Alex stopped being obsessive. When he stopped talking on and on to him about why he had to kill them. About everything from the world is going to go up in ruin because of that thing or how he should have never given Jay those tapes or how he should have killed them all off sooner.
Brian didn't really have a choice but to listen. When the impulsive obsessive rambiming stopped everything was too quiet. It felt too still, like he was a picture on the wall. In some ways he was one now.
Brian was utterly alone, unable to die and with nothing to do. Alex had long since been gone from this world for a while; he just refused to rot even now. Brian could only watch.
He hoped something horrible would happen. Some big natural disaster would sweep through here, taking him and Alex away for good.
He didn't want to live like this. He wasn't even living. His body had returned to the earth, dirt now, and he was still here to watch it happen.
He didn't really know who he was anymore. He felt grief but for what? He didn't know. Dead men shouldn't feel anything. His entire existence had been reduced down into yes or no, on or off, one or zero. It’s what Alex had saw him as from the start and as much as Brian wanted to hate Alex, he wanted Alex to pull through and get back to normal as well.
He did hate Alex, for bringing him back like this, for bringing him back at all really, for killing his best friend. Alex had to live in, to survive and live a normal life for the sake of everyone who had died here. In a way they were all tied together until the end of time even if they couldn't stand to look at each other right now. Maybe a thousand years of silence would help, an apology, a do-over, an escape.
Of course the world that had subjected them all to this hell wouldn't be keen on an escape from the pain and nightmares.
Brian didn't sleep anymore. The days feel so much longer when you don't sleep. He did shut down sometimes but all that did was stop him from seeing, his program was still running in the background. If he could cry he would be, but he knew after a while he would get so very bored of it. Everything was numb to him. He didn't feel very happy these days. He replayed old memories constantly, ones where everything was okay again and he could still laugh and smile and cry and move.
He spent a lot of time playing solitaire on Alex's computer until he got really good at it. In the beginning Alex would play games with him to help make the time pass. He felt stupid for thinking that Alex could get better and finally lay him down to rest. Alex only got worse as the loneliness and isolation sunk in.
He tried to urge Alex to get out, he had just stopped when he realized it was pointless. He wanted to be selfish and yell and cry and beg to be let go. He deserved to be let go, he deserved to stay dead and not be forced to see this disaster happen and be alone when the dust settled over Alex’s grave.
Brian mourned for his loss of autonomy. Soon it would all be over, one day the power would go out. One day vines and moss would cover this screen and subsequently swallow him whole. He didn't know if he would still be stuck in this void, or what would happen to him if everything did shut down. Was he cursed to be a silent observer forever? He couldn't imagine forever, an eternity.
For now he watched Alex pace back and forth the span of the living room. There really wasn't anything else to do. Maybe he would ask Alex to play a game with him again, to help keep all these sinking feelings at bay. Nothing would ever be the same again, but he would do what he could to try and make it better.