Since this is a new story, I should just say here that this story might contain issues dealing with suicide, self-harm and some really self-destructive thoughts (possible hints of an abusive relationship seeing as to how this might turn out) so I'm just warning you guys in case you are uncomfortable with these things.

Now that that's out of the way, this is a sequel to my previous story, Red Eyes, so you should check that out first. I don't really think this can be read as a standalone because a lot of this are just a continuation from Red Eyes. So please do check that out!

Disclaimer: I do not own PPG and all the characters here belong to their respective owners!

"You're three minutes late today."

I found it hard to believe that I had actually just heard that. I looked over to the kitchen counter, where Brick was leaning against, meddling with the orange he held in his hands. He blinked at me in confusion for a moment before pushing himself off the counter and walking over to me, dropping the orange on the counter. It rolled off the surface and fell to the ground, though Brick took no notice of it.

"Did you have a great day? I hope nothing went wrong," he said. He took me by my shoulders and pulled me in for a kiss.

"Nothing went wrong," I replied the moment he pulled away. His arms fell to his sides and I took the opportunity to walk away. I headed to the living room and dropped my bag onto the couch, before sitting on it and slumping back.

"Really? You did take a little longer to get home," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, some of my friends and I were chatting a little. Nothing much," I replied, looking over at him.

Brick pouted slightly— like he always did whenever I mentioned any of my friends. "Really? About what?"

"Nothing really," I replied. Brick raised his eyebrow and I had to resist my urge to sigh. That day wasn't a bad day but it was tiring. I wasn't in the mood to deal with Brick's nonsense. "We just talked about stuff… You know, school, life, work, boys— stuff like that."

Brick furrowed his brows. "But you talk about those kinds of stuff with me as well."

"Yeah, I know." I really was too tired for all that.

"So why do you need to talk to others about them as well? It's not like I talk to other people," Brick grumbled.

Yeah, well, you don't because you have no friends.

I was so close to saying it to him out loud but I didn't. I didn't blame him for not having much friends. He wasn't well liked to begin with and unlike his brothers, Brick wasn't sociable at all. In fact, the only reason why I could stand him was because we practically grew up together and I knew how he was. But even then, as time went on, I found myself starting to lose my patience with him.

When everything started, it was great and fun, especially when Brick was well on the road to recovery. But once summer ended and school started, things were slowly starting to change between us and the worst part was that Brick probably didn't seem to realize it. It was starting to get much too exhausting to deal with him, which I lacked the mind capacity to manage after I had spent the whole day at school and occasionally fighting crime.

"Well, they're my friends so I have to talk to them about something, right?" I said, trying my best to appear cheerful and forcing out a slight laugh.

"You don't need to talk to them," Brick said, making this particular face which he seemed to have reserved for only this conversation. "I'm fine with just being with you so why can't you be fine with me?"

"There's something behind those words which I'm just going to pretend I didn't notice," I said, dropping my pretense and fixing him with a stern glare.

Brick raised his eyebrow as he fixed me with an equally hard glare. "What's with that tone? It's not like I said anything wrong."

"Yes, yes you did."

I was so close to blowing up in his face but I had to mentally remind myself that it wasn't his fault he was like that. It wasn't his fault that he felt possessive. It wasn't his fault that he's worried he might lose me. It wasn't his fault that I was the only one he was close to. It wasn't his fault that he was hated by everyone else. Nothing was Brick's fault and I couldn't blame him for what he ended up becoming.

"We don't need anyone else, Bloss. We just need each other," he said, his voice dripping with a slight tinge of desperation. "You just need me."

"My life doesn't revolve around you, Brick," I sighed. "I need to have my space, my own friends and a little privacy sometimes." That was what I said to him, but the truth is, what I wanted to say was, "I don't need you."

And it's true. I don't need him— not in the way he needed me, not in the way he believed I needed him. Sure, it was great having him around. I really did appreciate the fact that with Brick, there was nothing I had to hide about myself. I could be the baddest person to ever walk the face of the earth and he would just sit there and watch me. With Brick, there was no judgement.

But there was a whole set of expectations. I don't know what kind of a person he thought I was but I was sure that somewhere in that mind of his, he had constructed a version of me that was too similar to what he was. Somewhere in there, he believed that he and I were the same. But that wasn't true at all. No matter how deep I dug, I had never encountered a part of myself that was like him at all. Sure, we both had to deal with extreme judgements but the thing is, while it was stressful trying to be the best person around, it's still much better than stepping out of the house and immediately being reminded about how hated you are.

Brick and I weren't the same at all.

"Why? Why can't you be as open as I am to you?" Brick asked. I raised an eyebrow, only for him to mirror me challengingly.

"Why do I have to do that? Why do you need to know about every single aspect of my life?" I snapped.

"Oh I don't know!" Brick snapped back sarcastically. "How about… maybe because… you're my girlfriend?"

"Yes, exactly, I'm your girlfriend and you, as my boyfriend, should respect me enough to give me my space," I said. I huffed at him and started walking to my bedroom.

"I do respect you, but it's like you're not respecting me," Brick whined, making me stop. I had to resist the urge to fly over and punch him in the face. It's a pity he didn't have his powers anymore. If he did, I could easily do that to him and he wouldn't hurt too badly from it.

Brick, seeing that I had stopped walking, decided to continue talking. "You're all I have, Bloss. You're the only person who's been there for me. That's why, I want to be the only one to be there for you. I want to help you like you've helped me."

"Except, I don't need your help and so far, all you've done is been a burden to me." The words were out before I really thought over them and my feet started walking towards my room again. It was only when Brick reached over and grabbed my arm did I think through what I'd said.

"Blossom…"

Well, there's no turning back.

"Brick, you're nice. You're sweet. I really like you and I truly enjoyed the times we spend together. But the truth is, I can't handle it like this. I understand where you're coming from. I really do. But if this is what you're expecting your girlfriend to be like then, I'm sorry. I'm not suited for it."

I wasn't looking at him so I have no idea what his expression looked like at that point in time. But I could guess how it might have looked, especially from the way he sounded when he finally spoke up after a long, heavy silence.

"What are you talking about?" he asked softly. His voice sounded pained and it was painful to hear him like that as well.

"Maybe… we're not meant to be," I said slowly. I wanted the words to sink in— for both him and me.

Brick didn't say anything, except spin me around and grab me by my shoulders. He pulled me closer to him and rammed his lips against mine. The strength and force of his sudden actions made my head spin and I staggered backwards till my back slammed against the wall. As Brick moved his lips against mine, running his tongue along it, he hoisted me up till our faces were levelled. I knew that after what I just said to him, I should be acting likewise. I should be pushing him away, not wrapping my limbs around him to pull him closer to me. I should be resisting him, not opening my mouth and welcoming his kiss. I should be yelling, screaming and ordering him to leave, not moaning, whimpering and begging him for more.

And just like anytime we had an argument, Brick carried me into my room, threw me on my bed and climbed over me. It's hard to think that just this summer, we were both this clumsy pair of virgins bumbling about in bed. Now, he knew exactly where to touch and what to do to make me cry and beg him for more. Now, I knew exactly just what to say and how to look to get what I wanted.

But this time, there was no speck of chemistry, no bond, no love— just desperation. It was a sick, demented desperation to prove oneself. Brick wanted to prove to me that he was right for me and that he was the only one for me— that if I threw him away, I would have no one left.

But he's wrong. The person who would have no one left was him.

"Brick, you should leave," I said the moment we were done. I didn't want to spend a single second more in his presence. Just a little bit more and I felt like my mind would snap and cave in. Just a little longer beside him, just a little longer so close to his naked body, just a little longer connected the way we were, and I would submit to my feelings and emotions.

I needed to do what's right. I didn't have the freedom to do what I wanted.

Brick, as expected, did not agree so I ended up pushing him off, climbing out of bed and taking my clothes (not his). I pulled them on and walked to the dressing table to straightened my hair out. I watched from the reflection on the mirror as Brick watched me smoothen myself out, removing every single trace of that amazing and delicious sex we just had.

Brick shook his head. "Don't do this, Blossom, please," he whispered. He climbed out of bed, not even bothering to pull on some clothes, and walked over to me. Right behind me, he dropped to his knees, the loud thud of his knees slamming against the floor making me shudder a little. I felt him grasp my blouse, pushing his head against my back. "Don't do this. Please. Anything but this."

"Brick," I sighed, looking over my shoulder. My eyes lingered on his hunched frame, staring at his shoulder blades which were distinctly jutting out. His body, even though he had gained some weight, was still far from being considered healthy, and much much further from becoming what it once was.

"Blossom, don't leave me… You can do anything to me, really. Anything. Tie me up in the house. Chain me here. Kill me even. Just don't… leave," he begged, his voice cracking as he choked.

"I'm sorry, Brick," I whispered, turning back to the mirror. "We can't be together. It's too exhausting."

"Then… will you kill me?" he asked softly. "Because I see no reason to live without you."

"I'm sure you'll find one," I said.

"No… If you don't want me, I'd rather just die," he whispered. "You… mean everything to me."

"You're just being nonsensical," I muttered. "Get a hold of yourself."

I wasn't trying to be insensitive. I just didn't want to think. I knew that if I listened and considered his words, I would end up giving in. Without me using my brain much, everything seemed to have slipped away— including Brick's past issues, which, while he was slowly recovering from them, were definitely still there.

How did I forget that Brick once tried to kill himself?

"What do you want me to do now?" he asked. He sounded like he was sobbing but I didn't turn to look. I didn't even think to console him.

Brick was broken and no matter how hard I try to fix him, he wouldn't return to the way he used to be. I had known that very well. But in this moment, how did I end up forgetting? How could I?

"Put on some clothes. Go home," I replied, keeping my voice as emotionless as possible.

"Bloss—"

"Leave, Brick. Just get out."

"O… Okay," he whispered and never had I heard him sound so resigned and despaired. My eyes fell to the table in front of me, refraining me from watching him from the mirror any longer. Brick didn't say anything, not even as he left. I listened to his fading footsteps and only when I heard my front door slam shut did I look up in the mirror again.

I had cleaned myself up and straightened my clothes. But even then, it felt like at this moment, I was at my ugliest.

I shook my head, trying to force out all thoughts about Brick from my mind, though it failed the moment I looked over at my bed and remembered our intimate and happy times together. A part of me screamed at me to run after him and pull him into a hug, begging him not to go. But how could I do that, especially after I had chased him out?

Worrying about it wasn't going to get me anywhere, I decided. I was too tired to be thinking too much anyway. I walked over to the bed and threw myself down on it, trying to go to sleep. The bed smelled of us— of him— and a whole new wave of memories washed over me again. I couldn't stay there any longer. At that rate, I would go insane from thinking about him.

Grabbing some of my stuff, I decided to spend the night at home instead. Ignoring the sense of Deja Vu that seemed to be overwhelming me, I returned to my family's home. Thankfully, my sisters were out and the Professor was far too busy to talk much so after a brief five-minute catch-up session with my father, I went to my room and threw myself on that bed instead. I took a deep breath, inhaling and basking in the foreignness of the strawberry scented room. Slowly, I found myself drifting, falling asleep.

But even then, my sleep was restless and exhausting. Various images that I couldn't remember after I woke up flashed through my mind. All I could think of was just how tiring and exhausting my life had been lately. When I woke up due to the sudden ringing of my phone, it felt like I hadn't slept at all. In fact, I felt more tired, like as if I had gone for a run instead of to sleep.

I took my phone and walked over to the window. At some point in time, when I was asleep, it had started to pour. Even though my sleep was listless, I had somehow slept through all that. I glanced at my phone and I realized that it was from Boomer. Boomer rarely called me so I honestly found it strange.

"Hello?"

"Blossom!" Boomer screamed into the phone and I held it away from my ear a moment as his sudden scream pierced my eardrums. Ignoring the ringing, I returned it to my ear.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's Brick! He… I don't know. I think he took something!" Boomer cried out.

"What?"

"He's not waking up! He's alive but he isn't waking up!"

"Idiot! Call an ambulance!" I snapped, walking over to my bed to grab my things before I started walking out of the room.

"Butch is calling on right now… I thought I'd call you…"

"I'm on my way," I said, immediately hanging up my phone and rushing over to their place. My mind was a whole mess, with a huge part of it screaming and blaming me for what I just did. It was all my fault. It was all because we broke up— no, because I broke up with him.

The boys' door was open and I didn't bother to knock. I threw it open and immediately rushed into Brick's room, where Butch and Boomer were already there, standing by the sides of his bed. Boomer was shaking Brick, his breathing as hard as Brick's and his eyes streaming with tears. I rushed over and without greeting either of them, pressed my hand against Brick's pale forehead. He was burning up. His body was covered in sweat. He definitely took something.

And it was all my fault.

"No, no," I whispered. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… please wake up."

It felt like forever when the ambulance finally arrived and it felt like everything that happened happened too fast. Brick was taken out but I couldn't remember much about it. Everything was hazy and a blur. Boomer and Butch followed them but I stayed where I was. In Brick's room.

In the place where it all begin.

Also back when Brick tried to kill himself.

"Goddammit Brick," I cursed between my sobs. Why did he have to be like that? Why did I have to fall for him and him for me? Why did we want each other so much even though it was just impossible? Why would our relationship push Brick to such an extent?

I could feel my knees give way beneath me and I fell down onto them. If Brick died, it would be my fault. It would be my fault that he tried to kill himself. By extension, it would be me who killed him.

Sorry for any possible errors in there but I hope you guys enjoyed this! This story is mainly going to be in Blossom's perspective, but I'm going to try and play around with the perspectives thing. It's going to shift between Brick and Blossom a bit in this story so I'll specify at the beginning of a chapter if there's a shift. I don't know for sure but mostly, I think it should be Blossom who's narrating.

As of the moment, I have three possible endings for this story and I just don't know which one to go with. There's one which is kinda dark, though it's somewhat 'happy'? The other two are actually kinda sad. Idk. I might just write all three. Leave a review and let me know! All three or just one and leave y'all in the dark about the rest? :D

Also, dear guest from the previous story who mentioned fanarts based on this story, I'm crying. Thank you so much. I wanna see them. Is that possible? ;_; This story is my baby so I would really love to see this come alive lmao.

I'm not going to say much in chapter 1 so I'm just gonna leave this here. Please favorite, follow and leave a review! Thank you so much! :)