Red Regret
"What are you thinking about?" Brick blinks and looks up to see Blossom smiling and sitting across from him. "You look like you've got a lot on your mind."
Her voice cuts through the emptiness in his head. The noise from the café rushes back to him as he looks around. It was teeming with people laughing and talking, and he'd been completely unaware of it. He looks back at Blossom and the noise slowly ebbs away; the cacophony of squeaking chairs, ringing cell phones, and loud conversations fade into a soft hum of voices and clinking tableware.
"Brick?"
Her white scarf flutters in the wind. She rearranges it by tucking it around her neck.
He can't recall thinking about anything at all before she arrived, but quickly comes up with a retort. "I'm thinking that you're late again."
"Someone once told me he liked consistency," she teases, raising her drink to her mouth. "I'm just accommodating you. I was late the first time so I'll be late every other time. You should expect it by now."
He does expect it, which is why he always orders her drink ahead of time. She takes a sip of her hot chocolate and sighs appreciatively. He watches her breath rise into the late winter air, gradually dispersing in the sky.
"How are you?" she asks, placing the cup back on its coaster.
He leans back and assumes a casual air. "Fine."
The silence hangs between them like rain clouds.
"I'm fine too. Thanks for asking." Blossom rolls her eyes. "I'm starting to think you don't like my company."
He raises an eyebrow. "What makes you think I do?"
She sticks out her tongue childishly, fussing with her long hair as she bundles it up and ties it in place. Her face is stark and severe without her hair framing and softening the sharp curve of her cheekbones and the point of her chin. She's lost weight, he thinks, and wonders why he isn't surprised.
"Are you still working for that company?" The question catches him off-guard. His surprise bleeds onto his face and she looks at him strangely before elaborating, "You know, that job you and your brothers have had for years?"
"I know where I work." he snaps.
She bristles. "It's a fair question. I haven't seen you in months so you could've changed jobs. There's no need to bite my head off."
"There's no need for you to pry into my business either. Don't you know curiosity's a killer?"
"Oh, like you?"
Brick flinches back, blood roaring in his ears. His vision tunnels in on her (accusing?) face. "What did you just say?"
She crosses her arms over her chest. "Are you going deaf now? I said, like you don't stick your nose in my business? Remember when you hacked my computer after I explicitly forbade you from using it?"
He's sure she said something different, but she's looking at him with that smug little arch of her brows he hates so much and his rising temper burns the thought away. "Oh, you mean when you wrote that bullshit slander article about me and planned to print it in the school paper?"
"Slander?" she said indignantly. "You were terrorizing upperclassmen for their parking spots."
"They gave it up."
"You–" She stops and takes a deep breath, face red with the effort of reeling in her anger. She covers her face with her hands in an attempt to calm down. Part of him is disappointed. Brick loves it when Blossom's eyes darken with rage, making them less pink and more red. It's proof that underneath her bright layers of community service and heroism lurk the possibility of something menacing. He loves watching her struggle with that darkness, knowing that—however much she tries to deny it—she is exactly like him, right down to his capacity for violence. One day he was going to knock her down and drag it out of her for everyone to see.
"We're dropping this." Blossom says, lifting her head. "We never get anywhere when we argue and I'm sick of it." Hesitantly, she reaches across the table, breeching the unspoken boundary onto his side. "We agreed to be civil, didn't we?"
Brick sighs, strategically removing his hand from the table and runs it through his short hair. He ignores the uncomfortable prickle of her hurt silence and glares at his empty coffee cup. She's such an idiot for having this thing for him. He's going to make her regret it.
Blossom flushes and quickly reaches for his red cap on the table as if it was her intention all along. She's embarrassingly transparent.
"I don't know why you still wear this old thing," she laughs through a forced smile. "I mean, even I change my accessories around once in a while." She tugs the cap over her bundled hair. "How do I look?"
"Bald." he replies in a bored tone. "And it's my signature."
She laughs genuinely this time and puts his cap back on the table. "If you say so, Brick." Tugging on a few stray locks of hair, she looks at it contemplatively. "I've been thinking about cutting my hair. It's really impractical for battle."
Brick sees the logic in that decision. He's definitely used her long hair against her in the past. Just as he's about to tell her, an image of Blossom with short hair flashes before his eyes and makes him grind his teeth. He leans over and roughly snatches his cap back, crumbling its shape in his fist.
"I like it long."
She looks startled at the admission, her hand lightly touching her bound hair. "You do?"
"Yeah, I do."
It's not what he means to say and she's taking it the wrong way, but he doesn't care. She reaches up and pulls out her hair tie. The tightness in his jaw disappears as he watches her long red tresses tumble down her back. His fingers twitch with the desire to feel the fullness of her hair, needing it to chase away that horrible vision his mind conjured up. His hands start to reach for her but he catches himself and quickly occupies them with reshaping his cap and yanking it on backwards over his head. She sees his slip anyway and beams. She even tosses her hair to the side in a flirtatious way that Bubbles often did.
"Okay then." she shrugs with a happy grin.
The affection in her voice makes him blink, drawing his attention back to her face. Without realizing it, his eyes had followed the movement of her hair without his permission. He can't believe that stupid trick worked on him. Brick meets her eyes and is surprised at the trust he sees in them, even though he's been working to gain it for years. His stomach tenses up. Brick can't help but think about how fucking dumb she is for someone so brilliant.
"So, um, are you up for a promotion–"
"Thought I'd find you here." Brick turns his head to the side just in time to see Butch land a few yards away, spitting out a stream of blood-tinged saliva. "Boomer's still a No-Go."
Brick immediately notices Butch's split lip. "He got you again?"
Butch slams his hands on the table, rattling the cups. "He's a fucking nutcase now, all right? It's like walking straight into a minefield with him."
"Do you even have a strategy going into it?"
"If you've got a problem with how I'm going about this then why don't you do it yourself?" Butch snarls. "When was the last fucking time you saw him? Do you even remember?"
Boomer shifted anxiously on his feet, eyes darting at the door. "Um, this meeting's over, right? I gotta get back to the house and, I mean, those old guys left and everything so..."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You–" Butch growled, digging his palms into his eye sockets. "Forget this. I'm outta here."
He stormed off, ripping the door off its hinges and throwing it off into the distance.
Brick grabbed the bottle of liquid Boomer had been unsuccessfully hiding under his jacket. He held it up to the younger boy's wide eyes and shook it violently.
"Formaldehyde again? I have to admit this wasn't how I thought you'd apply your medical knowledge."
Boomer's profile burred and Brick hissed at the sharp pain exploding at his wrist. A split second later, Boomer came back into focus holding the formaldehyde possessively close while Brick nursed his stung hand.
"This is her medicine." Boomer responded petulantly. "She can't get better without it. I need to get back right now."
Boomer's speed had increased astronomically. He's never exhibited that kind of velocity before. Brick warily noted this unexpected twist as he shook off the pain. "You NEED to shower that stench off and come home. You're making us look bad in front of clients."
He blinked, lifting the sleeve of his shirt to his nose. "Do I smell? I didn't notice. Sorry. I've been so caught up in helping her and all that I guess I just forgot today." Boomer admitted with unfocused blue eyes and a bashful grin. Brick suppressed the urge to beat the crazy out of his brother. "I'll shower when I get home. She's waiting for me–"
"Cut the crap." Brick interrupted sharply. "No one's waiting for you in that dump. We've got access to the best head doctors in the country. Utilize them. You need to take care of yourself and forget about that disgusting—"
"Don't talk about her like that!" Boomer whined, his body tensing with distress.
"—rotting—"
"SHUT UP!" Boomer lost all traces of hesitation and nervousness. A festering darkness peeked through his too-bright eyes. "I'm not like you. I can't—I won't abandon Bubbles. I take care of her. I take better care of her than you ever did of Blossom. I love her more than you—"
"I never gave a damn about Blossom." Brick said furiously.
Boomer blinked, as if surprised by that statement, and then smiled pityingly. "Still lying to yourself?" he asked condescendingly as he hovered a few feet off the ground. "How fucking sad."
Boomer shot out the door with a force that left a small crater where he stood, effortlessly dodging Brick's eyebeam.
"I remember I still need teach that moron to watch his mouth."
"Then you go deal with him." Butch straightens up. He runs his hands through his hair roughly, causing it stick up in all directions. "I'm sick of him and all the fucked up things he does in that room. I need a fucking break. If anyone wants me, tell them to fuck off."
Brick glares at his back. Who the fuck did Butch think he was, handing out orders to him?
"Off to another hike?" Brick asks dryly.
It has the desired effect. Butch stops abruptly. He clenches his hands, but shakes his head slightly and continues walking.
Brick leans against the back of his chair casually, watching Butch with dark red eyes. "You're really not that much different from Boomer."
Butch whirls around and takes slow, deliberate steps back to the table. He towers over Brick with narrowed green eyes seething with rage. Brick expects him to shout and scream because Butch knew better than to try and pick a physical fight with him. Instead, with his mouth curling derisively, Butch violently knocks over the empty chair across from Brick and sends it crashing into clusters of empty, rusted tables around them.
Brick flinches slightly from the unexpected, jarring noise of metal scrapping against metal and concrete. Butch notices and smiles viciously. It's the first time he's ever caught the scent of blood from his brother.
"Enjoy your little tea party of one in this dump." Butch sneers at Brick before taking off into the air.
Brick rises from his seat with more than half a mind to blast Butch across Townsville for that stunt. His temper burns hot underneath his skin as he tracks his brother's progress across the sky, his narrowed eyes glowing, pulsing, with a barely restrained laser beam. He's shaking with rage, not only at the disrespect, but also because Butch didn't even acknowledge that Blossom was there, sitting in that upturned chair and–
"Well that was rude," Blossom comments, standing behind Brick. His body tingles at her proximity. She apologizes to the people caught in Butch's fit and the crowd goes back to their conversations as toppled tables are righted and broken dishes are replaced. Blossom hunches over his shoulder, her chin tilted toward him. Her long red hair falls like a curtain around her face and his shoulder, cutting her off from view.
"You shouldn't go after him though. You both need time to cool down." she says quietly, her lips inches away from his ear.
Her soothing voice cuts through his murderous thoughts. His eyebeam flickers briefly before fading away. Brick takes a deep breath and enough anger leaves his body in the exhale for him to see the merit in her advice. Butch had moved out of his range anyway. She moves back as he stands up and pulls another chair over for her. "Forget him. He's not all up there anymore."
"No one is these days." she replies wistfully, twirling around him and sitting gracefully on her new seat.
"That's no excuse for insubordination. Those knuckleheads would be dead without me and this is the thanks I get?"
She studies him closely. "Is this really about feeling underappreciated?"
"It's not about useless sentiments. It's about respect."
"Two sides of the same coin."
"Enough with your dumb idioms." He scowls at her.
"I thought that one was rather appropriate." she muses, looking up at the sky. "What time is it? I have to leave at 8:32."
He checks his cell phone and tells her the time, even going as far as setting the alarm on his phone, before placing it on the table. When he looks up, she is fiddling nervously with the end of her scarf. The change is so subtle that he almost misses it. He can't be sure, but something in her posture sets off alarm bells in his head.
"Butch makes a good point though." she says, taking another sip of her drink. "You haven't seen Boomer in a while and Bubbles was supposed to meet up with me months ago. You should go visit them. I hear your brother's been…" Blossom pauses, searching for the right word, "off."
"That's the understatement of the year. He's lost his head over that sister of yours." Brick glares at her as if to say it was her fault.
"I doubt that's all he's lost." Blossom sighs, meeting his glare. "You have to talk to him. The way he's been acting isn't healthy."
"Why don't you do it if you're so concerned?"
"I've got no hold on him. You're the only one he'll listen to and you know it."
He scoffs. "Fuck if I care. I'm not his keeper."
"And I suppose you're mine?"
Her penetrating gaze catches him off guard. "What?"
"More effective measures need to be taken for future viewings. The buyers couldn't appreciate the presentation with all that screaming." the General frowned.
"Perhaps we should suspend further showcases until we can find a better alternative." Brick suggested in a carefully neutral voice. He willed his bones to stop rattling at the still fresh memory of Blossom's left eyebeam searing through her closed eyelid, and how she screamed and screamed and fucking wouldn't stop screaming. "Or at the very least consider anesthesia as an option."
"No, that would numb the receptors that we need to stay active. I think paralysis is our best bet. Target the muscles in her arms and legs so she can't thrash around and also her throat to keep her quiet."
Some small body twitch gave Brick away. "Don't worry," the General said, "it'll wear off in a few hours."
"With all due respect, the only thing I worry about is getting the job done."
The next viewing went smoothly. The lectures were informative and the live demonstrations complemented the theories appropriately. Blossom still made noise, but the guests couldn't hear the high-pitched screams. Brick, however, with his ultra sensitive ears, heard every painful sound that escaped Blossom's paralyzed lips.
The only thing Brick cared about is the job. He doesn't worry about anything or anyone else. And ninety-five percent of the time, he believed it too.
"You care about what happens to me more than what happens to Boomer. I mean, you definitely talk to me more than you talk to him. As a brother, as the oldest brother, if you're not taking care of him, then what good are you?"
His anger ignites. She's taking too much liberty with him. Who is she to presume to know anything about the dynamics of his team? He leans toward her aggressively, muscles tense and locked, ready to cut her down. "What makes you think I give a damn about you at all?"
"You mean besides what I just said?" she asks sarcastically, lifting her drink.
"I talk to you because you can't take a hint and leave me the hell alone. It's fucking impossible to ignore you if you're hovering around me all the time."
She pauses, lips still on the rim of her cup. He savors the small victory.
"That's really nice of you, Brick." Blossom says with a quiet hurt, placing the cup back on the table. "Real nice."
A hand grabbed Boomer's arm, stopping him from administering the last batch of Antidote X to the pink mug. He turned around smoothly, a clever alibi on the tip of his tongue, only to come face to face with Brick.
"That isn't necessary." Brick said, pocketing the small vial.
"Is something wrong?" Boomer asked. Then, with a sliver of hope in his voice, "Are we aborting the–"
"We're still proceeding with the plan," Brick interrupted, "just not her."
Boomer absorbed the news with difficulty. "Why not her? Why does Blossom get the free pass and not Bubbles? What makes her so special?"
Brick hissed at him to quiet down. He saw rebellion churning in those dark blue eyes. The idiot just had to get attached. If Boomer had been smarter, it would've been the other way around, like how it was with him and Blossom.
"She's special because she's the first." Brick snatched the pink cup off the counter. He made his way toward the door separating the kitchen from the living room where the others were gathered. Brick spared a baleful glance at Boomer. "The company has other plans for her."
He nudged the door open. Blossom sat next to her sobbing blonde sister on the couch and rubbed her back soothingly. Butch and Buttercup stood at the farthest end of the room and shared an uncomfortable look over the situation. Blossom looked up and Brick could see the tension lining her shoulders. Rising gracefully, she crossed the room, pink eyes flickering over to him briefly before she twisted around him and stopped in front of Boomer.
Brick watched her lean close—too close—to his brother and whisper something in his ear. Boomer watched Brick's face closely as he inclined his head so that his short blond hair tangled briefly with her red bangs. Brick's guts knotted uncomfortably at the sight. Something must have shown on his face because Boomer smirked and lightly rested a hand on Blossom's back in a ghost of an embrace.
There was a change in air pressure as Brick honed his super-hearing onto their conversation.
"…and I know it's the last thing you want to be to her, but she desperately needs a friend right now with this whole Mac fiasco."
Brick watched Boomer nod and rub her back comfortingly with slightly narrowed eyes.
"Of course," Boomer replied understandingly, drawing her into a tight embrace, all the while looking at Brick smugly. "You can count on me."
Blossom sunk into his arms and returned the gesture. "Thanks, Boomer."
That little fucker. Brick gritted his teeth, his face heating up with rage.
Butch walked over and grabbed the green mug from the tray Boomer held in his free hand. "Bro, you need to get her to turn off the waterworks before we all drown." Giving the blond a pointed look, he went back to Buttercup and handed her the hot chocolate. "Careful, it's hot stuff."
Boomer moved toward the couch, wisely maneuvering around Brick, and sat next to Bubbles. Brick walked up to Blossom and handed her the mug. She accepted it with a grateful smile: fingers brushing, tangling, and separating reluctantly.
"Thanks."
Brick watched her take a deep sip, vaguely registering Boomer's voice behind him coaxing Bubbles to take the poison.
The defeat in her voice makes him clench his teeth. Her unwillingness to fight—fucking feelings—is messing everything up again. "What's wrong with you today?"
"Nothing."
"Don't give me that bullshit. If you've got a problem, lay it out on the table."
"I thought you didn't care about my feelings."
"You're passive aggressive evasion tactic is charming. Now answer the question."
She tilts her head to the side and looks at him contemplatively. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Are you sure you can handle it, Brick?
His patience frays at the challenge. "So your problem's with me then."
"It always is, isn't it?" Blossom says, leaning back in her chair. Her face settles into a calm expression. There's no sign of her initial hesitance. "Fine. Let's talk about it."
"It?" he asks warily, feeling like he's lost control of the situation.
"My problem with you and what you did, what all of you did."
She sounds disappointed.
"I've done a lot of things." he replies, managing to instill some bite into those words. "Care to be a little more specific?"
Blossom glances at him from the corner of her eyes "Avoiding the issue isn't your style, Brick, but if you insist, why don't I show you?"
She changes then, flickering into something terrifying and grotesque. He stops breathing.
Then, before his brain can process the transformation, she's back to normal, taking another sip of hot chocolate. Blossom casually brushes her hair—hair that she didn't have a second ago, or rather had in uneven patches across her head along with crude surgical scars branching across the bald spots—away from her eyes as she waits for him to recover.
"What the…" His composure slips a little before he steels himself and tries again. "What the hell was that?"
She looks at him with faint disapproval lurking in her gaze. "That is what we're going to talk about so please stop pretending like you don't know anything."
Brick hears the trap click shut in the back of his mind. He's unprepared for this and only his ironclad policy to never back down—especially from Blossom—keeps him seated. He faintly registers the lack of noise and looks around.
They were the only ones left.
"It's not like you to lie to yourself, you know." Blossom says quietly.
He's tense and pissed off—because who the fuck was she to tell him anything about himself anyway?—but deep down, he knows she's right. It leaves such a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
He knows it because he while he is unsettled and disgusted and angry, he is not surprised at that brief image of her: not at the scars or the lack of hair or the seared bits of skin or the puncture wounds circling her throat like a noose.
He isn't surprised because he's seen it before and he knows how she got each and every mark.
"I thought you said you were off to the pool hall." Blossom said, surprised but pleased that he was there.
"I am." Brick twisted a chair backwards and sat down, sliding a black velvet box across the table. "I'm just dropping this off first."
It came to a stop, bumping the spine of her literature book. He heard her breath catch and his lips curled up crookedly.
"W-What's this?"
"I believe it's called a gift," he drawled. "Word around town is that today's your birthday."
She looked up in surprise. "Oh, it is. I just–" she stopped talking, her slender fingers ghosting over the box. Blushing, she tilted her head away, a nervous gesture he recognized as shyness. "I mean, you didn't say anything all day so I thought you didn't know or forgot."
"Wrong again, Utonium. I don't forget."
Blossom eagerly plucked up the box. "What is it?" Lifting the lid, she stared at the contents in disbelief. "Brick," she breathed, astonished. "You didn't."
It was the necklace that had been on the window display at the jewelry store several months ago. She passed by it every day, admiring the craftsmanship of the red ribbon-laced chain and the luminescent ruby. She was dismayed when it was gone two weeks later, silently consoling herself that it was too expensive to justify buying anyway. After all, she could hardly wear something so extravagant during her patrols.
"How did you know?" she asked, touching the stone.
"I told you," he replied smoothly, "I don't forget." He had seen her gazing longingly at the trinket during the few times he walked with her to school.
"I can't accept this. It's too much." She slowly pushed it back to him only to have him stop her.
"It's a gift. You're obligated to take it."
"It's too expensive!"
"I'm throwing it away if you give it back to me."
She snatched the necklace out of the box protectively. "Well, if you're sure," she said flustered.
"What the hell am I going to do with it if you don't take it?"
Blossom unclasped the chain and drew it around her neck with a smile. "I guess you're right. It's not really your style, even if it's red." she teased. "What do you think?"
The stone dangled several inches below her collarbone, glinting in the light.
"You look like a present." he pointed at the way the ribbon settled into a bow at the top of the stone.
Her laughter tinkled in the air. "Do I? Are you planning to give me to that slave-driving boss of yours for a promotion?"
"Not a bad idea."
"You're awful." Touching the jewel, her eyes sparkled warmly at him, "Thank you, Brick."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he drops his gaze and tightly grips her necklace in his hand. The chain digs into his palm and the pressure of it eases some of the tension in his body. "This isn't real."
"No," Blossom concedes, "but your neglect is real. The feelings you've been avoiding are real."
He stares unblinkingly at a spot on the table and sees her hand resting near her cup out of his peripherals. He thinks that if he blinks, it will disappear. "You're dead." He tests the phrase on his tongue. It's strange, saying it out loud didn't make it feel real.
Her fingernails tap gently against the iron wrought table, catching his attention. He blinks. She's still there. It's comforting.
"Then why am I here?"
"You're haunting me."
The sun sinks lower, casting long shadows on the ground. Night is creeping in around the edges.
"Well, I guess that's partially true. It's a start." Blossom crosses her legs in a way that never fails to catch his eye. Bitch.
"Why are you here, Brick?"
"Habit. We've been getting drinks here every Sunday for two years." He shrugs and finally raises his head to meet her gaze. Behind her, Townsville looks as though it caught fire, a stretch of blackened buildings amidst a red-orange sky. Her face is veiled in shadows, making it difficult for him to see her features clearly, and her hair glimmers like copper in the fading light. It hurts to look at her.
Blossom runs her hand through her long hair with a sad curve of her lips. "Yes, ever since we were fourteen. But you've been sitting here for quite a while now, haven't you?"
"You're always late. I'm used to it."
"Six months late? Most people would think I wasn't coming."
"But you always do. You always come eventually."
"So it seems." She exhales loudly, closing her eyes. When she opens them, they are a deep pink hue that matches the wisps of pink in the sunset sky behind her.
"You have to stop this." she tells him quietly. Something inside him aches and churns. "All of it. You can't keep doing this. You know that. Boomer and Butch too. Help them."
The necklace digs deeper into his palm. "Why should I?"
"Because you're their leader, their oldest brother." Blossom stresses earnestly, leaning forward. "Have you forgotten that? They're family. It's your responsibility to keep them safe."
Something vicious darkens his face. "Don't preach at me. You did a pretty shitty job protecting your family." She flinches away and he goes in for the kill, teeth bared and gleaming sharply in the dying light. "At least Butch and Boomer are still alive."
The sun sinks beneath the horizon. All along the road, the streetlights flicker on, illuminating the hurt on her face.
"That was really cruel, Brick," she murmurs, "even for you."
She jumped when he entered the poorly lit cell and clumsily backed into the furthest corner like a beaten dog. Her good eye squinted in the light and it took a moment before she recognized him. He blanched inwardly at the intense relief that dawned on her face.
"Brick, you came!"
She took several hurried steps toward him. The light pouring in from the corridor showed the extent of her wounds. "I was so worried about you."
Worrying about her enemy. How fucking laughable was that?
"After the attack at City Hall, when you went down, I couldn't find you. Then this company, this evil company ambushed me and dragged me here and-" she struggled to push the words out of her mouth, "and experimented on me. They're trying to utilize our powers, our genetic makeup for something…advanced weaponry, I think? I don't know. I don't know! I think they're after the others too. I don't think they've gotten a hold of them though. I'm the only one they talk about. We've got to out of here!" She moved closer to him, eager for the freedom he offered but stopped short when she finally registered the details of his uniform. "Wh-What are you wearing?" The shock froze her desperate expression as her eyes roamed his body. "Did you steal that outfit to break in?"
She took a tentative step forward but the light glinting off of the metal trimmings on his uniform struck her bad eye—the one with the dangling piece of skin that used to be an eyelid—and she stumbled back wincing.
"Brick? Why aren't you saying anything?" Her voice was small with an uncertainty that quickly festered into panic and fear in the continuing silence.
"Brick." Blossom tremulously murmured, looking every bit like a lost, newly orphaned child. "Where are my sisters?"
Brick willed himself to feel nothing. He took the food tray from the guard posted outside her cell and walked inside. He dropped it on the metal slab in the center of the room. The impact echoed like a church bell toll.
Her expression crumpled. She covered her mouth with her hands, breathing harshly and stumbling backwards. She recognized her daily rations.
This was the end.
Blossom backed away slowly, furiously shaking her head from side to side as if she could dislodge the image from her head. The red scars on her scalp blurred with the movement, creating a maniacal, phantom grin hanging over her head.
"No." She crashed back into the corner. "Nononono."
Brick turned away and walked out. He didn't know what it would do to him to watch Blossom go into shock and he didn't want to find out. However, something beyond his control made him look back. His eyes locked onto her horrified expression. He could almost see the lines fissuring across her face as she fell apart.
"They trusted you. They trusted you." she chanted, clawing at her head as she rocked back and forth on her feet. Her scars broke open. Blood ran down her fingers, hands, arms, and face. "They trusted you. We trusted you. I trusted you."
She shook violently. Her voice rose as the implication sank in, eyes widening in horror. Forcing his feet to move faster, he moved past the guards stationed at the entrance and flew up the stairs, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
He didn't move fast enough.
"I TRUSTED YOU WITH ALL OF THEM!"
Her piercing shriek echoed through the corridor and dogged his footsteps long after the door slammed shut.
He can taste her bitterness in the back of his mouth, but keeps quiet. He's not sorry. He doesn't care. It didn't matter anymore. "It's the truth."
"You can't possibly think what you boys are doing now qualifies as living."
"I don't think you're qualified to tell me what's living and what's not."
"Well I know I'm the best person to give you some perspective on it." Of course she thinks she knows. Bossy Little Blossom. It almost makes him smile. "Why else do you think I'm here?"
"Vengeance?" Brick asks, affecting disinterest.
Blossom slants an exasperated glare at him. "Hardly."
Her answer surprises him. "When did you become so forgiving?"
Her finger traces the rim of her cup. "There's nothing to forgive if there's no apology." she says lightly, dropping her gaze to the table. "Besides, I'm not interested in revenge."
Brick tilts his head, studying her closely. "Why not?"
Her eyes crinkle as she smiles cheerlessly. "You know why."
The screen flashed red as the security system threatened to alert the entire building sector of a breech. Brick calmly entered the code to override this last defense and watched as the warning message flickered away. He inserted a disc into the driver and deftly ran his fingers over the keyboard. Camera 8 was Blossom's cell. She was lying listlessly on the bed, swinging an arm over the edge occasionally. He recorded that moment along with other feeds of people standing guard in the hallways and looped it onto the disc. After securing the live feed to his personal laptop, he replaced it with the looped sample and exited the system, making sure to restore all the firewalls and security systems he disabled.
Brick meticulously packed up his gear and checked his watch. 7:15. He had an hour before his meeting and if he took all the other variables into account, that gave him less than ten minutes to reach her. He reached into his pocket and pressed a button on the remote, shutting down the vent system so that the gas machine full of Chemical X would only flow into her cell. He left the security room, side-stepping the two dead guards in the swivel chairs, and quickly made his way to the cafeteria. After piling up the food on the tray, he poured a vial of Chemical X on the plate to speed up the healing process. It fizzled on contact before sinking into the food without a trace.
Five minutes later, Blossom heard the door open. She didn't stir at the noise and continued to stare at the ceiling. The vents had turned off a little while ago but she could still see faint puffs of cool air pass through the grate and waited to feel it against her skin. Something slid across the floor before the door closed again. Several minutes ticked by before Blossom curiously turned her head to face the door. She hadn't heard the lock click back into place.
The smell of fresh food wafted to her nose. She sat up cautiously and stared disbelievingly at the heap of hot, fragrant food. Her jaw grew tense from hunger and heavy with saliva. Blossom tried to rationalize why it was here. She'd only ever been given the smallest rations of stale bread and soggy vegetables straight from the can. It was a trick. It was poisoned. It was a figment of her imagination. Her stomach growled loudly and she couldn't help but dive for the food. Even if it turned out to be poisoned, she would at least die with a full stomach and the taste of pot roast on her tongue. She coaxed herself to eat slowly, knowing her stomach was too shriveled up to digest such a large meal so fast, and wept silently at this small sign of mercy.
She lifted the plate off the tray to bring the food closer to her when she saw the folded piece of paper hidden underneath the plate. Cautiously, she balanced the plate on her folded legs and examined the paper. "Breathe deep and eat fast. Find him here." It wasn't signed, but the handwriting was vaguely familiar as if she used to see it often a very long time ago. Blossom unfolded the paper and froze.
It was a floor plan. The same handwriting noted important sectors: research labs, security systems, and weapon storages. Several rooms were circled with names of what had to be high-ranking members of the company. One particular room located in the furthest sector of the compound had a large "x" marked over it. She knew that was where she'd find the one responsible for everything. That was where she'd find Brick.
But why now? Even with this information, she was injured and powerless in an armed and guarded facility. Was this some sort of sick joke to him? Frustrated, she threw the paper away and took a deep, calming breath. Suddenly, her scalp tingled uncomfortably. Tiny needle-like sensations erupted all over her body.
She tensed, expecting pain, but found her body healing itself right before her eyes. Wounds closed. Scars scabbed over and peeled off, revealing unblemished skin. Her bad eye stopped aching and the damaged eyelid knitted itself back together. She could feel her hair growing back. There was no doubt that she was somehow being exposed to Chemical X at that moment. The question was: how? Was it the food? No. It would take much longer for it to take effect if she had ingested it. Her eyes glanced around the room and her sharpened senses picked up the faint puffs of air flowing through the vents. She could have sworn it had been turned off before.
In an instant, she was hovering by the vent, taking deep breaths of the airborne Chemical X. She couldn't waste a second to marvel at her ability to fly again. She needed to be at full power if she was going to get out of this place alive. The tingling sensation intensified. She felt herself getting stronger. Carefully, she blew the air out of her lungs and nearly cried when snow and ice came out.
Blossom returned to her meal and began to shove the food down, certain that her stomach could process it all now with no problem. She needed the fuel. Picking up the cup, she sniffed it and realized it was hot chocolate.
Brick.
What was he up to?
It didn't matter. She had a map and a list of targets to take out. She was going to make sure what happened to her would never happen to anyone. She was going to tear this place apart and make them all pay for what they did to her. She was going to find Brick—'x' marks the spot—and kill him.
"Good girl." Brick said, watching from his laptop as Blossom drank the bittersweet liquid down in one gulp and threw her cup against the wall, shattering it on impact.
"I'd have to be angry to seek revenge and I'm not anymore. I was surprised and very angry when it happened, but now I'm just tired."
"I don't understand why you'd be surprised. You couldn't have believed that we wouldn't hurt you girls."
Her finger stills on the cup. "There's a difference," she says slowly, "between knowing and hoping. I was in love with you, after all."
I was in love you, was in love with you, was in love, with you, was, was, was–
–meaning that she isn't anymore. Brick scoffs. He watches the steam twist and curl around her finger and tells himself he doesn't care, doesn't care that she most likely hates him now because that's the way it should've been before everything got complicated and fucked up with feelings. Besides, it really doesn't matter anymore.
"What time is it now?" she asks.
"8:15." he answers after glancing at his phone.
"Okay, just checking." She nods. "Anyway, it doesn't matter to me anymore. It's almost over."
"Almost?"
She smiles softly. "So what do you say, Brick?"
"Are you asking for an apology?"
"We both want the same thing. We want Boomer to get better, but that's not going to happen if he keeps Bubbles."
"You want me to knock the crazy out of him?"
"Don't call him crazy. He's mourning."
Somehow, that rebuke hurts him. Brick swallows to get rid of the tightness in his throat. Whatever Boomer was going through didn't look like mourning so much as it did denial. With Blossom sitting across from him, Brick feels as though he understands his brother's madness just a little bit better.
"If I do this, what happens to you?" he asks quietly.
"Do you want me to go away?"
No.
"I just want to know."
"It's a little late to pretend you care about me, don't you think?" She tilts her head to the side and laughs self-deprecatingly. "Then again, you were so good at it."
Blossom dug frantically in another pile of rubble, tossing huge pieces of sheetrock away. It had to be here somewhere. She couldn't believe she lost it. She should have never worn it. What had she been thinking?
"Looking for something?"
She spun around with a gasp, her hair fanning out and spilling over her shoulder. "Brick! Um, fancy seeing you here."
"I heard about the monster attack. Thought I'd lend a hand since there was nothing else to do, but looks like you have it covered." He pointed to the unconscious creature several yards away.
"Well, you know me! Always prepared for the worst and all." she said with a forced smile. "These things sure are coming to the city a lot more often these days."
"Why are you rummaging in the debris?"
"Rummaging? Me?" she sputtered. "You've got it all wrong. I was…clearing the streets! You know, trying to give the construction workers a hand. They can't begin the repairs if the paths are blocked."
They both looked around. Blossom had haphazardly thrown the broken rocks and cement blocks onto the road, creating a nightmare obstacle course for the incoming construction workers.
"Right." Brick said flatly. "It looks like you've done enough. Why don't you go home and shower? I don't think I've ever seen you so dirty before."
Suddenly self-conscious, she patted her hair. A small dust cloud rose out. Mortified, she looked down at her hands and saw them smudged with dirt. "Right. Ok. I'll see you at home." she squeaked, taking off in a flash of pink light.
After finishing her shower, Blossom sat in front of her vanity brushing her recently hair and tried to gather up the courage to tell Brick what happened to her necklace. She thought about sneaking away to look again, but knew it was hopeless. It had most likely been crushed underneath all the building debris.
A knock sounded. She glanced at the reflection of the door in her mirror. "Come in." Brick entered and closed the door behind him. Her heart thundered in her chest. "Brick! Is there something wrong?"
"I just wanted to let you know the streets are all cleared. I had Butch and Boomer help clean up the mess you made. Reconstruction should begin tomorrow without a hitch."
"Oh," She turned around to face him directly. "You didn't have to do that, but thanks. I'm sure the mayor appreciates it."
He snorted. "The mayor is a fucking waste of space. He doesn't know anything about what's going on in Townsville. I can't believe he hasn't been canned."
"Language." Blossom said disapprovingly. "And that's not a nice thing to say about him. The mayor is doing the best he can."
"That's a terrifying thought. I'd hate to see what would happen to this place if he didn't give a shit." He ignored Blossom's glare and reached in his pocket. "Speaking of 'not nice', I don't think it's nice for someone to lose a gift either."
He pulled the necklace out and hung it on his fingers. The stone dropped from his hand and the chain tinkered as it unraveled.
Blossom gasped. "Where did you find it?" She rushed over to him and inspected the necklace. Much to her dismay, she could see that the ruby had chipped in one corner and the chain had been scratched.
"It slipped into a sewer grate. Lucky thing too. It would've been crushed if it were on the streets."
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know how to tell you. I tried looking for it, but I couldn't find it and now it's broken."
"How is it broken? It's a necklace. It doesn't do anything other than hang from your neck."
"It's chipped!"
"Wait. You don't want it now because of a small crack? Do you know how much this thing cost? I fucking picked it out of the sewer and cleaned it for you."
"Don't curse at me! I do want it. I'm just upset with myself because I shouldn't have worn it in the first place and now it's ruined."
"Not if you wear it."
Blossom looked at him, stunned. She couldn't believe he had said that, was convinced she had misheard him. Suddenly he was there, moving closer to her. He undid the clasp and gently reached around her neck, resting the stone on her collarbone, before securing the chain again. She felt his breath ghost across her face and she couldn't look away. His body heat radiated off of him in waves, making her body temperature rise in response. He gathered her hair out from under the chain and slowly allowed it to fall back over her shoulder, letting the long strands slide through his fingers like a caress. His eyes follow the movement of her hair before looking back to her face, lingering on her lips.
Blossom hardly dared to breathe.
Looking up at him with wonder in her eyes, she searched his face for some sign that would let her know what he was feeling. His eyes softened. It was such a small change that she would've missed it had her eyes not been riveted to his face. Everything seemed to freeze. She was so hyperaware of his body and his scent that it took her a moment to realize one key thing.
Brick wasn't moving away.
Slowly, his head ducked closer to hers. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, was sure he could feel the vibrations from it through the air. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his dark red eyes. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted it more than anything in the world. She couldn't stop wanting him no matter how hard she tried to ignore and deny her desires. It kept growing inside her like a poison, threatening to destroy her with the intensity of her feelings. And finally—finally!—it seemed like he felt something for her too. He was in her room and he was looking at her with those mesmerizing eyes and he was so handsome and his lips were hovering so close to hers and—
Please, she thought longingly, tilting her chin up. Please, please, please just kiss me, just once.
Someone pounded on her door.
"Blossom? We have a situation here." Buttercup called.
Immediately, Brick pulled away and turned around. Blossom barely managed to hold back a frustrated cry. She was going to kill Buttercup.
"Hey, did you hear me?" Buttercup demanded as she opened the door. "Girl, we've got a major situ-"Buttercup paused when she saw Brick was in the room too. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked incredulously, hardly able to believe something could possibly happen between Brick and Blossom.
Blossom cleared her throat. "What's the problem, Buttercup?"
"It's Bubbles. She in full meltdown mode over Mac. It looks bad, Blossom. I don't know how to handle her when she's like this. You have to do something."
"Right, of course. Where is she now?" Blossom asked, her brows furrowed in concern.
"She's in the living room. Boomer's getting everyone a drink in the kitchen and Butch is standing around being useless as usual."
"I'll be right down." Blossom promised. "Just make sure Bubbles doesn't do anything rash like go off on her own trying to find him. You know what happened the last time she did that."
Buttercup cringed and nodded. After she left, Blossom looked at Brick. He was tinkering with the things on her vanity. Disappointment swelled inside her chest. The moment had passed.
"Looks like I have to go take care of that." Blossom said weakly.
Brick nodded absently. "You go ahead. I'll check on Boomer in the kitchen." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "I'll see if I can get the necklace fixed if it's really bothering you."
"No no! It's fine. Really. I'm just glad to have it back." Blossom said, touched by his offer. "Thanks though. It means a lot to me." she smiled.
"After you." Brick said, moving toward the door.
He thinks about giving the necklace back to her, seriously considers taking it out and putting it on the table. If nothing else, he wants her to know that her gift was real. He bought it for her because she wanted it, and he wanted to give it to her. No strings attached. Brick rubs his thumb over the crack in the stone and grits his teeth. For the life of him, he can't get his hand to let go. It's all he has left of her.
The thought angers him almost as much as it hurts him.
"Maybe I did care about you." he confesses softly, bitterly, looking away. "Maybe that was the problem all along. I fucking cared. Back then, I fucked up and cared about you. I cared so fucking much. Even now, I don't know how to stop."
She doesn't say anything. It's probably for the best, plausible deniability and all. It isn't too late for him to recover from this lapse into insanity. He chances a look at her. She's staring vacantly off to the side, pink eyes dark and vacant. His heart pounds anxiously in his chest.
"Blossom? Did you hear me?"
"Hm?" She snaps out of it and looks at him curiously. It instantly calms him down. "Did you say something, Brick?"
Deny it, he thinks. Don't be a fucking idiot. What good is it going to do you now? But he couldn't stop. It's important to him that she knows. He needs her to know.
"I love you." he blurts out in a rush. The words feel strange on his tongue and they trip clumsily out of his mouth. He's not even sure it's completely true but he needs her to believe him. If there could be a possibility for her to have feelings for him again, she needed to believe him. He isn't sure he knows how to act, knowing she didn't love him anymore.
"You love me?" she asks laughing, suppressing a smile so hard that it makes her frown.
"Yes." he admits with no small amount of shame and humiliation. "Don't fucking laugh. You think this is funny?"
"No." she says with a miserable smile. "I don't think it's funny. It's actually kind of sad."
"You don't believe me." Brick feels as though he's suffocating. His chest tightens unbearably and it's painful to breathe. He can't let her see him this way. Get it fucking together.
"Does it matter?"
"How could it not matter?" Brick hisses, furious that this is how she reacts. Didn't she know what it cost him to say these things? Didn't she know?
Blossom sighs, closing her eyes. "Even if you did, it wasn't enough. You didn't save me, or my sisters, or your brothers. I don't even know if you saved yourself in the end."
"Don't be stupid." he snaps heatedly, "Of course I did."
"You wanted to see me, Brick?"
"Yes," Brick walked off to the side of the office rather than up to the desk. "There was something I wanted to speak to you about. I came across some files recently and it changed my perception about this company."
He threw the manila folder onto the desk. The General picked it up and thumbed through it. "I don't see your point. This is Project X. You've been working on this quite some time."
"My brothers and I agreed to work for this company years ago because it paid well and gave us plenty of leeway to handle business the way I saw fit." Brick said, taking a step closer to the stocky man behind the large oak desk. "Initially when you had shown interest in the Powerpuff Girls, I brushed it off as a natural curiosity about the first X-beings. When you didn't let up though, and gave them to us as an assignment, I did a little digging of my own."
"Just what exactly are you getting at?" the General demanded, his foot discretely inching toward the panic button on the floor beneath his desk.
"You should know better than to leave a paper trail when you're planning a double-cross. Project X was presented as a way to monopolize the weapons market with firearms based off our powers. What you left out was that it was also a plan to render X-beings ordinary." Brick spat the last word out distastefully.
"Don't be absurd. You were there at the showcases. You knew we had clients interested in X-enhanced security."
"I also know about the shots you gave us laced with inactive Antidote X. By the way, Boomer took care of that easily enough." Brick said with narrowed his eyes. "All you were missing was an actual X-being to experiment on and test your theories about what would do the most damage to us. Blossom seemed to work nicely since she was the first, and I know how scientists love testing things out on the original. You see, I've been onto you for a while now. I went along to see how far you'd get and what you'd learn about us. Now that I've got copies of your research, I really don't have any more use for you at all."
"You think you can just walk out of here with those files unscathed? You'll never make it out of here alive."
"That's where you're wrong. I've already won."
"We'll see about that." He pulled out a gun and trained it on Brick. "I trust you came across this when you were sticking your nose where it didn't belong. It's a double barrel semiautomatic. One chamber's loaded with a bullet full of enough Antidote X to render your impenetrable skin vulnerable. The other chamber's got grenade bullets that explode on impact. It'll shred you to pieces."
"I'm shaking in my boots." Brick said flatly.
Suddenly, the door was ripped off its hinges and tossed to the side. Blossom stood in the doorway in all her former glory: pink eyes clear and sharp, her long hair flowing behind her. Startled, the General made the mistake of taking his eyes off Brick. The gun was quickly shot out of his hands, leaving him completely defenseless. Blossom quickly scanned the room, noting a man behind the desk and Brick standing in the corner. Her eyes snapped back to the frozen man behind the desk.
"You!" she growled, her body crackling with pink energy. "You're the one who did those vile showcases."
"Guards!" the General shrieked, stamping his foot on the panic button now. "Guards!"
"Don't bother," Brick said in a bored tone. "I disconnected the communication and alarm wires."
"You wanted to see how strong my eyebeam is? Let me give you a proper demonstration." Blossom said furiously, her eyes glowing red.
The General screamed, hastily begging for mercy but it was no use. Blossom fired her eyebeam, slicing through the desk like butter, and incinerated him. The air was filled with the General's dying screams and the smell of burnt flesh and hair. When Blossom was done, only the charred skeletal remains were left. Brick looked at her in awe. Blossom's eyes lightened to their natural pink coloring, but they were bloodshot. He could still see the red shine of her eyebeam just beneath the surface. There was no remorse in her posture. She remained on guard and tense, ready to viciously cut down the next person in her way.
This was the darkness in her come to light.
"I always knew you had it in you." Brick praised quietly.
"Where are my sisters, you traitor?" she hissed, her eyes flaring red again as she turned to face him.
The smell of gasoline and smoke reached his nose from the hallway. It seemed as though she put the map he gave her to good use and made some stops along the way to this office.
"Dead."
Blossom knew. She had to have known. Nevertheless, Brick watched her face crumple in grief. She was devastated. With a pained cry, she fired a huge energy blast in his direction. Brick dodged it easily and watched as the wall behind him exploded. It filled the room with dust and made it difficult to see.
"Why did you do it?" Blossom shouted, scanning the darkened room for him. "Answer me!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The impact knocked the air out of her lungs and sent her flying against the wall next to the door. When she reached for her next breath, liquid filled her lungs. Dazed, she felt something wet soak through her shirt. Slowly, she touched her hand to her chest and brought it up to her face. It was covered in sticky dark blood. Brick moved into her line of vision, the smoking gun in his hand. His knees cracked as he bent down and looked her in the eyes, tossing the gun behind him.
"It's nothing personal." Brick tucked a finger underneath her chin and tilted her head toward his. She jerked out of his hold but he grabbed her jaw firmly in his hand and forced her to look at him. He could see tears well up in her eyes. "You were just collateral damage." he murmured, before closing the gap between them in a gentle kiss.
She kept her eyes opened, staring him down. He did the same. Even after everything, she couldn't help thinking that he really did have beautiful eyes. The tears spilled down her face. She tried lifting her hands to push him away, to blast a hole through the empty space where his heart would've been, but she was too weak from blood loss and her arms could only twitch by her side. Letting out a quiet moan, Brick's eyes slipped shut and he pressed harder against her lips. He took his time, pulling her full lower lip into his mouth before slipping his tongue inside her to taste her, stroking her tongue roughly. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead against hers.
It was everything she had thought it would be.
Blossom let out a choking sob, gasping for air. Blood erupted from her mouth and poured down her shirt. Some of it splattered onto his chin and onto the medals decorating his uniform.
"I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon." Brick said, lacing his fingers with hers.
He felt her body tense. "Don't touch me. Don't you ever touch me again."
A bright pink flash filled the room as she forced an energy blast through their interlocked hands, forcing him to let go, and sent him crashing through several walls. Wincing, he pulled himself out of the rubble and hissed at his singed hand. It was impressive that she managed to hit him with such force considering the Antidote X he shot into her system and the bullet shrapnel in her chest. When he flew back inside the office, she was slumped against the wall with blood streaming out of her wounds.
He landed in front of her and nudged her leg with his foot. She remained motionless, her empty pink eyes staring off into the distance.
"Brick," Butch's voice crackled through the earpiece Brick wore. "We sealed the entrances. What do you want us to do out here? People are starting to panic with all those explosions and shit."
Brick glances at the fallen clock on the wall. The batteries had popped out. It was stuck on 8:32. He took one last look at Blossom before shooting out the doorway and issuing out his order.
"No survivors. Burn it to the ground."
"Then why are you here?" Blossom asked, leaning toward him across the table.
"I don't fucking know, alright?" Brick lets out a growl and stands up. "Do you want me to leave? Is that why you're always fucking asking me that goddamn question? You want me to go? I will! I'm not fucking afraid of leaving."
He stares down at her, furious that she's so cool and collected when he feels so unhinged, so completely out of control because of her. It was always because of her. How could she just sit there like everything didn't matter, like he didn't matter? He would leave. He'd leave and never come back to this dump café and this shithole of a town with its fucking mayor and its fucking superheroes and its fucking memories.
"Of course I don't want you to leave. Sit down, Brick." Blossom gestures to his chair placatingly.
His anger flows out of him like smoke and he collapses back into the chair. He's relieved she's not sending him away. The tightness in his chest is still there though, and suddenly he's just so tired of it all. He wants everything to stop and go back to the way they were.
"What do you want from me?" he asks wearily.
"I want my sister." she says. "Please give her back to me."
"I don't have her."
"Buttercup and I have been waiting so long for her, but she can't come because Boomer's keeping her from us. Please, Brick?" she implores. Brick thinks she's close to tears but her eyes are dry and focused.
His cell phone alarm goes off.
Blood suddenly wells out of her mouth and spills down her chin. He can see dark red spots blossoming all over her chest, soaking through her white scarf like gauze wrapped around a mortal wound.
She's dying all over again, right before his eyes.
"She needs a burial, Brick." Blossom looks at him solemnly with dark pink eyes and red-stained teeth. "You owe me Bubbles."
Brick panics, half out of his seat, and reaches for her. He needs to fly her to the hospital. He needs to save her. Just as he's about to touch her hand, he makes the mistake of blinking. His hand comes into contact with nothing but the rusty table. He blinks again and looks around wildly, taking in the broken windows of the dilapidated café and the rusted overturned tables and chairs around him.
"Blossom?"
No one was there.
xxx
The door bursts open, startling Boomer.
"Brick? What are you doing…?" Boomer looks at the bed where Bubbles sleeps and at his brother standing in the doorway. His confusion is quickly replaced with horror. "No, don't—!"
Before Boomer could think to move, Brick grabs him by the head and slams him repeatedly against the wall until he hears a small crack. Brick drops an unconscious Boomer on the floor and turns to the bed. Fuck Sleeping Beauty, he thinks nastily, and shoots a small fireball out of his palm at Bubbles. Within seconds, her whole body is up in flames due to the amount of flammable chemicals in her body. The air is heavy with black smoke and toxic fumes.
"There's your goddamn funeral." Brick says quietly.
"Thank you." Blossom whispers behind him.
Brick doesn't turn around. It's easier to talk to her if he doesn't look. "You'll stay with me?"
Her hand hovers over his pants pocket where he keeps her necklace. "I never left," she says softly. "You've never let me go."
His hand closes over the stone tightly. Good.
Brick is not someone who wastes his time with what-ifs and could-have-beens, but sometimes…sometimes...
