Falling Star

by Animalcrunch12

After spending a year away and still reeling from her failure at MIT, Blossom Bellum returns to Townsville. Dealing with the repercussion of her actions before she left, a night at the lake with her former friends turns into something more. Now with mysterious powers and a long list of questions towards the supernatural essence of Townsville, they must solve a century old mystery.

12. The History

Disclaimer: Mentions of suicidal thoughts. Also, I have no beta and this is over 45,000 words long, so there might be a few grammatical mistakes here and there that I did not catch. Thank you for bearing with me and please enjoy this chapter!

---

July 3rd

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

4 months ago...

She was nineteen today. One more year of being a teen.

Blossom should be excited. She should be celebrating. She was about to be considered an adult soon. The idea of it was something she has looked forward to for years.

She has always wanted to be older than she actually was. When Blossom turned ten, she wanted to be fifteen. When fifteen came around, Blossom was vying to be eighteen. Eighteen arrived and she looked towards twenty-one.

Blossom has spent most of her life focused on the future. How she would get there. What would she have accomplished by then. Who would she be with.

The premise of wanting to enjoy her current age was often unfounded. Why would she want to be stuck in motion for one moment, when there were too many to look forward to? There was no reason to stop and smell the roses when a full rose garden of her own was destined down the path.

That was how she has seen the process of aging. There was always going to be something bigger and better for her to admire than what was going on in her life.

On her nineteenth birthday, Blossom has changed her mind. She wished for the past. To be fifteen again and not have a single responsibility to worry about other than school and what to wear to Otto's on Friday night. A time when she still had her innocence and friends.

When she had a future worth dreaming of.

It was ironic to her considering how much she hated the idea of dwelling on the past. Keep moving forward, right? Well, when was there a time to hit the brakes? When was she able to take a moment to herself and reset?

There were so many thing she wished she could change. Moments to relive and enjoy more. Time has flown by her and Blossom was not even aware of it until it was too late.

Now she was stuck in a hotel room alone, eating a grocery store jumbo cupcake she was not even going to eat a quarter of and was more dry than the desert air in Townsville, while watching an unfunny episode of The Office on cable.

It was the second birthday she had without her former friends and the pain of their deceased friendship has never gotten any better with time. More than ever, she needed them.

But she was alone as she has forced herself to be. Her decisions have led her to be without anyone by her side.

Blossom has never wanted to live in the present. The future seemed too intimidating to her now. Reliving the past was far more tempting than ever. It was a comforting hug to the miserable isolation she felt. The present, however, never intrigued her. Especially at this moment.

Her current time was something she never wished to experience or want to repeat.

Blossom simply wondered when time would ever be on her side. When would she be satisfied with how her life was? Did she already live through the glory days of her life or was there a better future for her after all?

She has yet to figure out the answer...

---

November 1st

Townsville, Arizona

Present Day...

It was her fault…

There was blood on her hands. It was under her nails and stained in the cracks of her palms... Well actually, figuratively, it was. The physicality of the night was actually caused by a silent killer of carbon monoxide.

But that was beside the point.

She should have been more careful. She should have saw this coming.

The moments… Ace's oppressive use of his powers; Brat's lifeless body; how helpless Blossom felt watching everyone scramble with making decisions.

If only she was useful. The one aspect she had been able to contribute to the group, was what got them in this mess.

It was what brought Brat to her death.

Blossom gripped on the blanket she was wrapped in. Her body shivered violently from the devastating emotions she felt taking over her body.

She wanted to cry but her body ached already from the sobbing she did on the way back to Princess' mansion.

From when Brick was the only one courageous enough to tell Princess and Brute what had happened.

Brute… the anguish she shown. The pleading she desperately made to Brick for a different reality… It truly wrecked Blossom even more.

Brat did not deserve to die.

It should not have been her.

Perhaps it should have been Blossom instead since she caused for the night to even happen...

Blossom inhaled and exhaled heavily. Her breathing coming out in short hyperventilation.

Even now, she was useless. Brick and Buttercup were calling the police to inform them of Brat's body. Princess was attempting to cover up her grief by busying her mind with helping the staff to clean up the aftermath of the Morbucks' Halloween party. Boomer—the same Boomer who had the worst panic attack Blossom had witnessed from him on the way back to Princess' home—was able to put himself together enough to help get Bubbles to eat something.

This was not her. She could not be someone who sat idly by while life went on. Yet… Brat's death had paralyzed her. Sure, it had happened a couple of hours ago but Blossom knew something changed within her.

Her trust in herself was gone.

She spent a whole summer trying to regain the ability to believe she was capable of making logical and sound decisions again without getting ahead of herself. Now, Blossom was here. Another mistake made by her.

Except this one had ghastly results.

Blossom should learn. Why could she not learn?

Why did she keep failing?

"Hey. Is there room for two under that blanket?"

Blossom freed herself from her thoughts, looking up to find Boomer standing before her. She nodded her head slowly, opening up the blanket for him. He slid in next to her on one of Princess' couches in her game room. The velvety, soft mink material wrapped around his shoulders tightly.

"How… How are you holding up?" Blossom asked quietly.

She shivered to herself, hugging her body to gather more heat. Even with Boomer next to her, Blossom felt like a tundra.

"I honestly…" Boomer trailed off, running a hand through his shoulder length blond hair. "I don't even know how I'm not still puking my guts out at the lake. I've never been that bad. Not even when my dad left…" His voice dipped low into a whisper. "I'm sorry you and the others had to see me like that. I usually try to keep it to myself but after everything, I… I just broke…"

Blossom reached out for his hand, cupping her's over his. "You don't have to apologize."

The blond took in a deep inhale, "I never been this anxious before, Blossom. Even before tonight, I've been overthinking the simplest things. And it's been hard for me to keep sane. Like right now, my brain is telling me that you probably think I'm a piece of shit for talking about my anxiety instead of Brat. That I shouldn't be making this night about myself but I feel so… guilty for everything. I put her by the tree, Blossom!" Boomer said in a hush exclamation. "Ace got her because of my decision. Because I can't ever do anything right. It's… God, I rather be puking again than to sit here and think about what happened..."

Blossom remained mum for a moment. Her eyes danced over to Brick and Buttercup who were in a deep discussion. To Bubbles who was staring blankly at one of the pristine ivory walls of the room. Her heart uncontrollably ached from the acknowledgment of Butch's absence.

"You aren't to blame, Boom," Blossom murmured. "And I don't think you're a bad person for thinking of what you could have done differently. I've been doing the same. I… I should have listened to you. You were right about everything. And I shouldn't have ignored what you had to say. If I had taken your advice, then maybe we wouldn't be here. Maybe Brat would be alive…"

"I don't think so," Boomer muttered. "Perhaps it would not have happened tonight, but Brat… I just have this feeling from whatever I haven't puked out from my gut that Brat…" Boomer glanced down at the ground. His voice barely audible to Blossom. "She was destined to die. I don't know why I do but I can't shake the feeling no matter what I have told myself for the past hour."

Blossom tilted her head to an angle. Brat did die in other timelines. The alluding to it was a warning Blossom failed to truly acknowledge, but perhaps it was also a telling sign there was no way to stop it from happening.

"...That could be."

Ocean blue eyes gave her face a once over before darting across the room, focusing entirely on another redhead. His shoulder tapped into her's gently.

"I think you should keep an eye on Brick."

Blossom arched an eyebrow. Her lips pressed together in an unsatisfied line.

"You don't trust him anymore, do you?" She said flatly. Her overprotective side flashing out like it was second nature to her.

"When my head is clear, I do trust him," Boomer responded after a beat. "But when things get messy in here," the blond knocked against his head lightly. "Then I start to get paranoid about Brick still working for Him." Blossom opened her mouth to refute Boomer's notion but he spoke before her. "But that's not what I meant by you keeping an eye on him."

"Then what did you mean?"

Boomer's face seemed to shift. He was already solemn to begin with but something within he seemed more somber. His sharp features becoming more pronounce; his lips pursed lightly before he let out a heavy sigh.

"Ace… He was going to spare Brat if me, Bubbles, or Brick were going to trade places. And Brick…" The blond hesitated for a moment with continuing on. "Brick was willing to be the one to take the fall. Even after Berserk interfered and Ace was distracted." Ocean blue eyes connected with rose-colored ones. It was an establishment of support shared between them. "Blossom. He was okay with dying tonight. He was willing and vocal about sacrificing himself. I'm worried about the head-space he may be in. I know when Brick gets down, his mind can get pretty dark. And I thought things have been better with him because of you but after tonight, I think it's clear he's not in a good place."

Blossom's gaze went to her boyfriend.

The thought of him dying…

She never expected someone to feel like home before but he has become such a feeling for her.

From the moment they met, Blossom knew she was meant to be with him. It was not hard for her to recognize the scars they shared. The understanding and trust they had for each other. Falling for him was no chore. It was innate for her. It was like breathing in a constant breath of relief. Her body and senses would become secure with the very thought of him. He was the person who made Blossom feel at peace.

Finding him was the best thing she has ever done in her life.

The possibility of losing him was sickening.

Blossom had saw him sacrifice himself once already. She did not need to see it again. He almost drowned to his death earlier in the night, and Blossom was sure she would have lost it if the worse did happen to him then.

She loves him too much to allow it to happen.

The redhead widened her eyes for a moment at the trail of her thoughts.

She loves him?

As the question raced across her mind, Brick had glanced over to her. It was obvious his mind was all over the place but from a small look at Blossom, it grew calm. A gentle smile tugged on his lips. Ruby-colored eyes faltered to a tenderness for a quick moment before he returned to his conversation with Buttercup.

It was such a simple action he had done but that one glance made Blossom come to the answer of her question.

Of course, she loves him. Blossom was completely in love with Brick that it was impossible for her to find any reason for why she should not be.

She knew it should have been expected. There were other timelines in which allowed her to know they were going to fall for each other but Blossom wanted to come to terms with it on her own. Now, Blossom understood the reason why she subconsciously found her way to him in each timeline.

In all of the chaos, he kept her sane, and she did the same for him. He would do anything for her and she would stop at nothing to protect him.

It was strange. To have the fluttering, oozy feeling of love being so remarkable strong during a time in which she should be nothing but a mass of anxiety, fears, and grief. Yet, Blossom could not prevent herself from feeling such a way whenever in the presence of Brick.

That was why the knowledge of Brick being willing to die was such a heavy blow to her. Blossom knew she had to be there for him. To be attentive but respectful to the emotions he may express to her. She had to be supportive of him in any way she could.

Anything to keep Brick alive, Blossom was going to commit to.

Blossom tossed her eyes back to Boomer. She squeezed his hand. A small grateful smile expressed off of her lips.

"I promise I'll keep an eye on him."

"Good," Boomer breathed.

The redhead looked on to see him cast his stare over to Bubbles. The blonde was still in the same, emotionless state from a few minutes ago.

"I'm worried about her too," Blossom said quietly.

Boomer's body tensed up for a moment before mellowing back to normal. A heavy breath escaped his lips once again.

"She's been distant lately with everyone. More than Buttercup is trying to be. I don't know what Bubs is going through but this is definitely not going to help her at all. I'm afraid…" Boomer paused. He removed his hand from Blossom's hold, using it to tap his knee anxiously. "I'm afraid we're going to lose her. Not as in her dying physically but maybe emotionally? I don't know. All I know is Bubbles has not been herself for awhile now and it's been hurting me to watch her like this. I wish I could do more to help but what am I good for? I would just screw up and make things worse. I always do."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"Boom, out of all of us, you have made the least amount of mistakes," Blossom pointed out. "Perhaps it's because you overthink everything but you have not really made anything turn into an utter disaster. You think you do because, you know, overthinking."

"...Tonight was a disaster I caused," Boomer murmured after a beat. His head hung low as he spoke.

"No. Tonight would have been a disaster we could have avoided if I had simply listened to you," Blossom countered but it did not seem to change any feelings for Boomer. "Boomer, look at me."

"Blossom, I don't—"

"Boomer, please."

The blond reluctantly obeyed, peering into her eyes. The ocean within his eyes seemingly begged to stream out water as his lip quivered a little. Blossom reached out, caressing his cheek.

"You, Boomer Hardly, were not responsible for tonight. You were just being a team player and carried out a plan you didn't agree to. And Brat… Ace would have grabbed her because she was the closest person to him. Not because you made it easier for him. He would have gotten Berserk instead if she was closer. Or Buttercup. Maybe even Butch..." She listed. Her voice growing lower as time went on as the thoughts of many other devastating scenarios were conjured up in her mind. She shook her head a little to do away with those images, forcing herself to continue on. "Either way, Ace was out to kill anyone tonight. Therefore, you are not responsible for her death. You, at least, tried to protect her. You cared about her well being even after she spent the night attacking you, and that says a tremendous amount about your character, Boomer. Alright?"

Boomer swallowed a hard lump in his throat. He gave her a small nod. His arms enveloped around her body, sinking his head into her shoulder as he pulled Blossom into a tight hug. A quiet cry was released from him.

"Thank you…" Boomer whispered. A wet spot was developing on the shoulder of Blossom's shirt but she did not care. Instead, she wrapped her arm around Boomer, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "Thank you for trying, Bloss. I know," He took a moment to hyperventilate and calm himself down. "... I know I'm not going to be okay but you are making me feel better right now. I want you to know that. You've always tried to make me feel normal and… Thank you. Thank you for being you, Blossom."

"Anytime," the redhead said gently to him.

Grief was a funny thing. One moment, Blossom wanted to lock herself away and remain that way until New Year's. Stay in isolation until the new time loop began.

The other part wanted her to take blame. She wanted to fetishize the guilt she felt. The sadness enveloping her for not doing better. For constantly making mistakes without giving herself time to grow.

She wanted to sink down with the rock tied to her neck. Her thoughts wanted to make her out to be the real villain. To convince her that it should have been her instead of Brat. To be filled to the brim with anger and remorse.

Yet Boomer reminded her to not behave in such a way. The words she spoke to calm him down and reassure him, needed to be heard by her too. For her to see that wishing she could swap places with Brat out of the guilt drowning her, was not going to get her anywhere. In fact, it would ruin her in a toxic mind state. She needed her mourning to be nothing but healthy for her. To where she would not lose touch with who she was.

She needed to cope in a better way. One that would benefit her and only her.

Helping others and being a source of affirmation was the way. It was how she would be able to heal her heart. To push her to fix the world they were in.

To help make sure Brat's death did not happen for the sake of it happening.

She had to find hope in the moment. It may just be a tiny amount but she needed it to keep herself going.

That was how she would able to save the others. It was how she wanted to mourn Brat.

It was how Blossom was going to save her from herself.

---

November 7th

Townsville, Arizona

Present Day...

Brat had been dead for a week.

A week in which it felt like time moved slower than normal in town. There was a dark cloud looming over the heads of the citizens of Townsville. Some were still wearing black to mourn the blonde's short life. Others were preparing a memorial candlelight walk through town in her honor. Plenty visited Ms. Fatale in the past seven days, checking on her well being and leaving her with a fridge full of food made from their sympathy for her. The whole town had attended Brat's funeral a few days ago. It was a much more somber event than many had predicted.

Parents in town were on high alert. The idea of how this could have also happened to their own child made an unprecedented impact. Curfews had become stricter. No one was permitted to visit the lake anymore. Some were not even allowed to leave their house for anything but school.

Townsville had quickly lost any ounce of joy it had.

The redhead knew, more than ever, Him had to be stopped. Him was inching closer to his endgame and Blossom did not want Brat's death to be in vain. For her fate to be the first step in Him's larger scheme. She wanted to keep on fighting so no one else would end up like Brat.

Blossom wanted to keep fighting because the guilt and responsibility of Brat's death motivated her to do better. To make a change. To save the world.

It was warped to find a good out of the events in which has transpired but Blossom had to.

Her determination to continue on with stopping Him did have roadblocks. One was Blossom's lack of trust in her abilities to lead. It was under her guidance and advisory that they went to the lake on Halloween. She was the one who dismissed any objections or notions of caution Boomer had presented to her. Her overzealous need to fix the Him problem had overcame any logical thoughts she could have made.

It was not the first time she has done so. Her mind flashed back to Henry but she quickly dismissed any thoughts about him and her past.

Another stoppage was the lack of cooperation from her friends to engage in any new discussion about Him.

As she and Brick sat across from Boomer and Buttercup in a booth at Otto's, Blossom's picked up on the unresolved tension between. With Butch's betrayal and the mixed emotions about what happened at the lake, the fractures within the group were more noticeable than normal.

When Bubbles came by with a coffee pot to refill Buttercup and Brick's mugs, the redhead even picked up on how the blonde did not express any want to mingle. She did not even attempt to cheer up the four of them as she would on any other occasions she saw her friends in a distressed state. Instead, Bubbles radiated a colder aura. She was icing all of them out. Isolating herself from them.

"So…" Blossom said awkwardly after some time. Bubbles had left their table a few seconds ago to refill more coffee mugs around the diner. Green and blue eyes looked at her with indifference. "Are we going to talk about anything?"

She watched as Boomer fiddled with his fingers as Buttercup took a spill of her black coffee.

A lingering yellowish-blue bruise graced her jaw on the right side from the intense punch Buttercup took from Berserk at the lake. It was the first time in the week she did not have it cover-up with makeup. Small but still raw cuts and scrapes decorated her knuckles, becoming more noticeable as she gripped tightly on the porcelain coffee mug in her hands. Out of all of them, Buttercup sported the most physical wounds from their battle on Halloween.

Who had the most emotional scars, however, was still up to debate...

Next to Blossom, Brick waited for a response from the two along with her.

"About that, Blossom…" Boomer trailed off uneasily. "We've been talking," His ocean blue eyes went to Buttercup's before continuing, "And we think it's best if we—"

Boomer could not finish his sentence as the door to the diner opened. Buttercup's eyes flashed with bright rage. Her hand slammed the mug full of coffee she held onto the table. Droplets of the dark, hot liquid landed onto the surface from the quick motion. The blond next to her sunk down into the booth, not wanting to make eye contact with whoever entered the diner. His chest was moving at a quick pace, Blossom noticed before craning her neck around to see who caused such a reaction.

Her rose-colored eyes instantly connected with Butch's emerald ones.

She wanted to express the same amount of fury Buttercup did. When she looked at him, Blossom wanted nothing more than to hate him but she could not.

Instead, all Blossom could feel was sorrow. Her heart hurt from Butch's decision. From the years they spent together as friends thrown away in an instant once again.

Grief was known to be experienced in stages and Blossom felt her and her friends could be an example for such. Buttercup was at the stage of anger and has been for weeks now since her break up with Butch; Boomer, with his inability to meet Butch in the eye and the stark, despondent frown on his lips, was more saddened by Butch than anything; Blossom, despite her best wishes, was in denial; and Brick, with his narrowed stare but lack of conveying any objective emotions showed his acceptance to Butch's actions.

Butch's eyes never broke away from Blossom's stare as he made his way to the table in which the four shared. The redhead could practically hear Buttercup's jaw grinding together as he stopped in front of their booth.

"Blossom," he said calmly. "Can I speak to you for a moment?" Butch glanced around at the ranging faces from his former friends, easily picking up on the mutual dislike towards his presence. "Outside? And alone?"

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. He wanted to speak to her? About what? What did they have left to say?

He had made his decision; therefore, Butch should know they no longer should be on speaking terms. No matter how disheartening it was for her to acknowledge the fact, Blossom knew she should not talk to him.

But then her nasty trait of being ever so curious popped it's head in her mind. The fact he made the risky move to speak to her when in front of everyone, showed how important whatever he had to say must be. And also considering he wanted to talk to her and only her, made Blossom have to know what it was.

Perhaps it would be beneficial to her. It could be about Him. There was a chance it could be a well needed dose of closure for their friendship.

Or the redhead was trying to convince herself it was okay to speak to him as her mind was unwilling to accept the reality where Butch was not trustworthy. Her gut, unexpectedly, was telling her to reconsider what she had to believe.

Blossom nodded at him once, rising to her feet. "Fine," she replied in a short manner, heading for the door without making sure he was following. She did this more for the fact of not wanting to face Brick or Buttercup's reaction to her choice.

"Are you kidding me?" Buttercup hissed, attempting to chase after Blossom but was held back by Boomer who was blocking her from escaping the booth to begin with.

The blond pushed her back down into the vinyl leather seating, quietly surprising her—and mildly impressing her—by his strength to do so. He was a lot stronger than his lanky appearance led on. His ocean blue eyes stared at her intensely.

"We don't need to make a scene."

"What are you—" Buttercup glanced around the restaurant, finding some in the diner were subtly watching their table. Their invasive stares evaporated her outrage quickly.

Any chance of the other Townsville natives finding their group in any questionable moments was incredibly lethal to them at the moment.

After the phone call Buttercup and Brick made to the police, Ace held most of the public blame for Brat's death. It was mainly derived from: one, his disappearance during the Gangreen Gang arrests; two, Brat's cause of death being similar to Elmer's attack from the Gangreen Gang a few weeks ago; and three, it was an easier narrative to paint a former gang leader as a murderer than the other options available.

The other options being Buttercup and her friends.

There was a slight suspicion made towards them since they were the ones who called the police and were reported for doing so in the town's newspaper. All them―except for Blossom, strangely―were accounted for in the article released the day after. Because of it, a belief of foul play made by the group was an unpopular opinion but it was still a whisper spreading around town.

If Townsville did not already pay attention to them, they surely were now.

With the warily looks from around the diner, Buttercup found Boomer to be right. If she went out and ranted to Butch about things being his fault, onlookers would get the wrong idea and start spreading more accusations at them.

"Right," she muttered to herself, folding her arms. Her light green eyes peered out the window next to her with disdain as she kept an eye on the two in the parking lot. "But that doesn't mean I'm okay with her coercing with the backstabber."

"None of us are," Brick said before taking a quick sip of his coffee. Buttercup instantly spotted his white-knuckle grip on the mug he was holding. He may be able to verbalize his lack of emotions, but his body language gave away how he truly felt about the situation. "But Blossom's allowed to do whatever she wants."

Buttercup arched an eyebrow, "Blossom also can make some pretty fucked up choices that she hasn't learned from yet."

Ruby-colored eyes went to the window, keeping a steady focus on the two, unable to hear anything said between them. "I know, Buttercup."

Blossom was unaware of the watchful eyes gazing at her from the window as she had her attention on Butch. She waited for him to speak. For him to explain what was so important. To see if her gut was wrong or not.

However, Butch remained mum. He stood quietly, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The skin of his muscular arms were covered in small, faint bruises from his fall into the pebbles of the lake's beach. His emerald eyes glued to the clear skies above them.

The redhead narrowed her eyes at him, feeling as if this was another trick made by him. A way to leave her vulnerable again until he or someone else attacked her.

"Butch, can you quit playing games?" She huffed out tiredly. "After what you did, I don't think it's appropriate for you to continue wrecking my heart."

He did not reply as he continued to stare up at the sky.

Blossom ran a hand through her hair, unsure on what to do next. Should she leave? Butch obviously seemed to have nothing to say.

"I'm going to go—"

She stopped as Butch grabbed her wrist to get her attention. His other hand was used to point up at the sky as an airplane was flying over the diner to reach it's destination.

"Have you ever been to the airport in Citiesville?"

Blossom nodded hesitantly. Her face displayed the great amount of confusion she held. "Yeah…"

He glanced down at her. A sly grin tugged on his lips. His hand released her's as he picked at his short, dark ringlets. "There's this road behind the airport that I like to go to sometimes—I think Brick showed it to me back in high school. But anyways, I really like going there to clear my mind and make sense of everything."

"Okay?"

Blossom knew of the road. It was the same one Brick had taken her down when they got Dairy Queen and hung out in the back of his truck.

"You should go there sometime," he said in a friendly tone. With how he was behaving, Butch made it seem like nothing had happened between them. "Especially during sunset. It is quite indescribable to look at."

Blossom tilted her head to a degree, not comprehending what angle he was using. Her thoughts were clinging on to the irrational.

Did he want her to go there alone and then him and Berserk would attack her? Was that how they would get rid of her?

"Sure…" Blossom whispered, making the mental note to not go back there ever again but also to make sure Brick did not either. "Is that all?"

"Yup," he grinned. Two of his fingers went to his forehand as he gave her a salute before heading towards his car. "See you around."

Blossom remained in place as she watched him drive off. Her mind was puzzled by the entire interaction.

I like going there to clear my mind and make sense of everything…

She did not know why those words stood out to her the most. Blossom found it strange of him to provide her with the reasoning as to the importance of the location to him. If it was a trap, the sunset proposition should have been enough to appeal to her. The other explanation seemed unnecessary to her.

Blossom did not expect for this to be what he needed to discuss; and now, she had more questions than she originally had before talking to him.

---

March 11th

Townsville, Arizona

1 year ago…

Her mom practically pounced on her when she came home. Blossom was not even able to get her schoolbag off when her mom grabbed a hold of her wrist. A large white envelope was in her hand as she dragged Blossom into the kitchen.

She handed the envelope over—actually, more like shoved it into Blossom's hands. An excited expression was dancing across her elegant face.

Blossom examined the envelope. Her fingers traced over the cardinal red stigma for MIT in the corner of the crisp white paper.

Thick envelope meant…

"Open it, honey," her mom pushed. She was barely able to contain herself from ripping it up herself.

Blossom took a deep breath, ignore the leering eye of her mother. Two of her fingers slide under the envelope gently, opening the fold cleanly. She took out a thick folder in which was stuffed into the envelope. A thin paper with heavy writing laid on top.

Congratulations Blossom Bellum…

She did not read the rest. Her eyes grew watery as she glanced up at her mom.

"I got in," Blossom whispered with a soft smile.

"Oh baby," her mom cooed. A proud grin on her face as she wrapped her daughter into a strong hug. "I always knew you were made for bigger things."

Blossom pulled back, still remaining in her mom's hold. A bashfully laugh escaped from her lips. Her cheeks were stained with tears of joy.

"I'm going to MIT," she said to herself. The reality not having sunken in yet. "I'm going to MIT, mom! I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," her mom commented. Her hand went to smooth down her daughter's hair. "I'm so proud of you, Blossom. You're going to get out of here. I don't have to worry about you being stuck in Townsville anymore."

Blossom nodded, pleased to know she did not have to worry about the thought of being contained in Tonwsville's strong grip any longer. She was finally going to be free. Just as her and her mom have always planned for her. Her acceptance letter was simply the beginning of her journey to discover the world.

In a few months, she would be starting a new life on the opposite side of the country. The thought of that electrified Blossom. There was no way for her to mask the elation she felt. Nor was the amount of her that would impatiently wait until the day of her departure to come.

Although, Blossom did know she was going to dread the day she had to break the news to her friends. She had broken the pact they made and Blossom was not sure what the repercussions of her actions would spiral into.

For the day though, Blossom was going to look forward to the future she has been striving towards, for what seemed like, her entire life. Today, Blossom was going to focus on the positives of what was to come.

She was optimistic for whatever may be thrown her way.

---

November 8th

Townsville, Arizona

Present Day…

It was strange to behave as if nothing had happened. For her to feel so aimless while her professor droned on about genetic coding to his night class. She glanced around to her few classmates. All of them oblivious to the impending doom surrounding them.

In a way, she wanted to feel envious of them. To not be included in the wicked schemes of Him. To be allowed to go on with life not having to worry about an inter-dimensional demon and what way he was going to kill them all. They could do whatever they wanted without any consequences for the time being. Until Him finally succeeded in his plan to bring hell on Earth.

She should be jealous of them. But when it came down to it, Blossom felt more responsible than anything. As if she had to be the one to save them from their unknown demise.

It was confusing for her. One side determined she was unfit to lead anyone. The other wanted to continue on with the fight against Him.

Her grief from Brat's death was taking shape into different forms.

There was no way she could give up, Blossom told herself for the thirtieth time that the week. It was impossible. Even if she tried. Her need to take care of others overpowered the part of her that was in doubt.

The ever growing questions looking for answers that fueled her innate curiosity, beat out the knowledge of how the end may be coming soon. An end in which, did not favor her and her friends.

Blossom spent most of her class period, trying to wrap her head around what could be done. If it was appropriate for her and the others to move forward after Brat. If there was anything they could do differently.

She wished there was more for her to know. More to make sense of why they were thrown into this. Another correct point Boomer made, was how they lacked in an definitive knowledge on how to stop Him.

When Blossom thought about it, there was very little they actually did know. Sure, Brick had the slightest clue to what had happened in some timelines; but given Him's choice to selectively repair his memory, it was hard to determine what it all meant.

For instance, why did they even have powers? What determined what abilities they got? Why would Him use Brick each and every time as a pawn when, given previous timelines, it never worked in his favor? What were the keys of chaos he needed and how did Him get them?

Then there was one question Blossom has been having a hard time finding any answers to. Each time left her frustrated by the lack of clues that came to her.

What was the point of the time loop?

From what Blossom could see through her visions, there were never any signs of the tides changing. Each one made Him look to be close to becoming victorious.

If the time loop was to ensure Him came out of this with his plan achieved, then why has it taken Him this many times to do so? With her visions, it seemed like Him would have achieved his goals a hundred and sixteen timelines ago.

There was something they were missing, she concluded.

A forty minute class period came and went as did her ideas and questions. When her professor dismissed the class, it was then when Blossom realized she zoned out for the entire lecture. Her rose-colored eyes read over a whiteboard full of descriptions she did not have current knowledge about. She quickly took a photo of the board in hopes to dissect the information on her own time before packing up her belongs.

Outside of the classroom, she walked along the outdoor breezeways of the community college. Blossom had one more class for the night but after the long brainstorming session she had, the redhead felt it was best to head home as an incoming migraine was formulating.

While making her way to the parking lot, Blossom spotted a familiar face in the distance.

"Buttercup!" She shouted out.

The dark-haired girl was standing by a classroom door, waiting for her own class to begin. Her focus was on a phone in hand until Blossom called out her name. She shoved her phone in the back pocket of her black jean shorts. Her face remained neutral as Blossom approached her.

"Hey," the redhead greeted nicely. "What class are you waiting for?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, groaning, "Some required bullshit humanities class I put off last year."

Blossom scrunched up her nose, feeling Buttercup's pain. In her opinion, pre-requisite classes were never worth the time and effort. Of course, Blossom did give all of her time and effort into them, but she did not enjoy it. Not one bit.

Thankfully, she got most of her's done in high school with college equivalent classes. By her first semester at MIT, she had only one required class outside of her major to do. From that one experience, she fully understood Buttercup's displeasure.

"At least the semester is almost over," Blossom presented as a solution.

Buttercup arched an eyebrow. Her fingers hooked onto the straps of her backpack. A light snort of disagreement was made by her.

"Yeah. If we can make it past the New Year without a new time loop," Buttercup chuckled wryly. "You know, that might be why I hate this class so much. I've taken it a hundred and seventeen times now."

"But it should help you. The information must already be up there," Blossom tapped her finger against her own head. "Somewhere."

Buttercup shook her head. "Nah. I'm flunking."

"What? Why?" Blossom exasperated. Her eyes widened.

Buttercup has never been entirely motivated when it came to academics. Like Butch, she barely graduated high school. When Blossom found out Buttercup had made the decision to attend the community college, she thought things had changed for Buttercup.

Blossom, at least, hoped she had.

"Eh," Buttercup shrugged. "At first, I blew off the assignments because I didn't want to do them. Then we found out about the time loop and I was like, 'What's the fucking point now?'. After that, Butch broke up with me and my motivation to do anything was at an all time low. Now I'm back to seeing no point in doing any work since it's all going to be restarted again. Or we're all going to die. Either way, I don't see a reason for trying."

"But you're here. You must see some point in it if you're still going to class."

"That's because I don't want to be stuck home with my mom while she catches up on her soap operas. Ever since my dad, it doesn't take much to make her a blubbering mess."

"Buttercup," Blossom said in a disapproving manner.

Buttercup put up her hands defensively. Two of her fingers on each side were still hooked onto the straps of her backpack.

"What?" Buttercup took a moment to take in a deep breath. She bent down a little to be at Blossom's height. Her light green eyes stared into Blossom's like a laser. "Bloss, I hate to break it to you but none of this matters anymore. Just accept it already."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. Buttercup wanted to give up. The most stubborn out of them, wanted to throw in the towel.

"No," Blossom said firmly. Her head shaking a little at Buttercup's notion. "We still have a chance to fix this. We can make sure Brat's death was not in vain. If we just get together and make a new plan–a better plan, we can—"

"Blossom," Buttercup interrupted harshly. Her eyes narrowed at the redhead. "It's over. We loss and whatever you come up with next, it's going to have the same results. You need to realize that."

"But…" Blossom trailed off.

Her rose-colored eyes went straight to her feet. There was not much she could think of to rebuttal with. She did not have a plan to convince Buttercup otherwise. She did not have the slightest clue as to where to even begin a new plan.

All she had was hope. Blinded or not, she had hope that things would turn around for them.

"It's time to give up," Buttercup said quietly as her professor opened the door to the classroom, allowing their students in. "I know I have."

Blossom did not respond, letting Buttercup leave her out in the breezeway in favor of her humanities class.

She stood alone in mild shock. Blossom felt let down by Buttercup.

It made Blossom question where she was left now. What did this mean for her?

Buttercup had valid points. Words in which Blossom knew she should accept.

Yet she wanted to keep fighting. There had to be a way to stop all of this. A way for them to prevail. She just needed to sort out her head first. Then maybe, just maybe, things would begin to clear up for her.

---

November 9th

Townsville, Arizona

Present Day…

Jonathan Utonium's journal.

Blossom had awoke to the single remembrance. A crucial piece of knowledge that could help her gain more of an understanding on Him and his schemes.

She has neglected to take a good look at it due to Brick spending a couple of weeks translating the text from French to English for her in a separate notebook. The other weeks, she was too focused on the Halloween plan.

Another mistake she had come to realize.

With the knowledge that the journal was at Brick's and he was about to leave for work in forty minutes, Blossom rushed out of her bed. She did not bother with changing out of the tank top and sleeper shorts she wore. Instead, she quickly brushed her teeth and combed through her bedhead of orange hair. As she slipped on a pair of sandals, grabbed her wallet and keys, Blossom was out the door before her mom even noticed.

She drove faster than she normally liked, hoping to better her odds in catching Brick before he left. It typically took her thirty minutes to get to his house but on this morning, she was there within seventeen.

Blossom let out a sigh of relief when she spotted his truck parked in place. She quickly did the same with her car, exiting and locking it.

She gave his door a subtle knock. Her foot tapped lightly as she waited. She knocked again when there was no response. This time, working better than the last.

The door cracked open as Brick revealed himself from behind the door. His short scarlet waves were tousled from his night's rest. A yawn escaped from his lips while he stretched his back. His eyes were squinting at her to adjust to the bright morning sunlight. A hand went to rub his right eye to relieve the irritation it felt.

"Blossom? What are you doing here?" He greeted, his voice more deeper than normal.

It had a certain grit to it. That and his Cajun accent came out more naturally. 'What are you doing here?' sounded like 'Wha are ya doin' hare?' instead. His drawl was much slower and bit stuck in his throat.

Blossom would comment on how she found his accent to be cute. Or question as to why he made such an effort to stop himself from speaking in his native dialect.

Instead, she was focused on something entirely different.

Her mind was completely flustered by the sight of Brick not having a shirt on. The first time she has ever witnessed such a thing.

It was ridiculous and Blossom was sure her face matched the shade of the deepest red of a tomato. She has seen guys shirtless before—and naked, but Blossom did not like to think of the face attached to that body. Yet, here she was, a fumbling mess from Brick's upper body.

She knew he was in shape. It was evident by the decent amount of muscle mass his biceps held—it was not the same amount Butch had acquired from his years of physical labor at the bakery but was definitely more defined than Boomer's lanky arms. And it was not like he was ripped to the max or brawny. He was more toned and fit than anything. Nothing too extravagant.

Yet, her eyes could not help tracing over the smooth muscles of his broad chest. To the nicely defined v-cut of his waist. To his stomach that had a subtle trail of dark red hair leading down from his belly button to the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Blossom blinked out of the unexpected daze she was under when the thought of where the trail lead to came across her mind. She clenched her jaw back together, clearing her throat—her incredibly dry throat.

Her face was burning greatly as she finally looked into his eyes.

"Do you always answer the door without a shirt on in the mornings?" She asked absentmindedly. Blossom did not even believe she would ask such a thing yet it just came out of her mouth.

Brick arched an eyebrow. His tall stature leaned against the door frame. A sly grin had taken shape on his lips.

"When I have to get out of bed unexpectedly to answer the door, yeah. I do."

His Cajun pronunciation was tamed again, no longer prominent in his tone. Instead, it was a subtle afterthought to his voice. A feature most would not pick up on if they did not pay close attention to his words.

Blossom tilted her head to a degree. Her lips pursed together in confusion. "Don't you have to be at the shop in twenty minutes?"

Brick was usually one to arrive at work at least an hour earlier than necessary. Blossom was aware of the routine he needed to complete in the morning to satisfied himself, which was why he preferred to be there way before opening.

He avoided her gaze. Ruby-colored eyes were fixated on his bare feet. His arms crossed, radiating off the discomfort he felt from the conversation.

"I had… a hard time getting out of bed this morning," he shrugged off. His voice quieter than anticipated.

"Brick," Blossom said softly.

She took a step towards him. Her hand found a home in the crook of his neck. She gently positioned his chin up with her thumb, giving him the opportunity to look up at her. He did so, hesitantly. There was a flash of… disappointment? She was not sure but there was something unsettling him, in which she was able read from his eyes.

Blossom was not sure if it was because of her or it had to do with all the troubling thoughts brewing in his head. She hoped it was her, simply for Brick's sake. However, Blossom had a feeling it was from Brick's restless mind.

"It's not a big deal," Brick mumbled. His arms slowly fell to his sides. "I'll get through it. I always do," he huffed out in an exhausted breath.

"You know, we can talk," Blossom whispered. She took another step closer to him, leaving no space between them. Her mind not even flustered by the idea of being up against Brick while he was shirtless. Instead, she was more concerned about his mental state. "Whatever it is going on in your head, we can talk about it. All of it if you want—"

"Thanks for that, sweetheart. But it's fine," Brick brushed off. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll be fine. It's nothing new for me."

"Brick," she said skeptically.

Blossom was aware she could not force him to talk to her. If he wanted to keep his thoughts private, then he was allowed to. She simply wished her chest did not sting so much from the decision.

It was obvious Brick was hurting and Blossom wanted to help him. She wanted him to know she was there for him. That she would do anything to make him feel the slightest bit better. She wanted to take care of him. Make him see the good he was to the world. Let him know it was okay to feel love. To give him the much needed break he needed in life.

But Blossom could not do such a thing as Brick was determined to keep her at an arm's length with this. A position she had to respect, and did respect.

"I will be fine," Brick repeated firmly.

Blossom let out a small sigh. Her concern for him was consuming her but she had no outlet to express such an emotion.

"Okay," she breathed.

Apprehension reflected off of his ruby-colored eyes for a long moment before a crooked grin tugged on his lips. He was obviously looking for a way out of the current conversation material, Blossom decided.

His line of vision dipped down for a second and then glancing back up at her.

"So… do you always show up unexpectedly at someone's doorstep in your sleep wear?"

Blossom arched an eyebrow, taking a step back from him to look herself over the best she could, "Well I—" The redhead abruptly stopped her sentence. Heat rose in her cheeks again as she became aware of how she forgot to put on a bra before leaving her house. More importantly, she swiftly came to the realization of just how see through the thin, white fabric of her tank top was. "I, uh," she fumbled while Brick let out a deep yet nervous laughter.

She narrowed her eyes at him as she was about to ask him what was so funny but Blossom took notice to the light pink tint lining his nose and cheeks. His flustered nature to the situation made her ease up, softening her stare towards him. Her arms folded across her chest to make sure nothing was visible anymore—even though she did not have quite that much to show to begin with.

Although, she did not know if she should be embarrassed by the situation. Brick was her boyfriend and seeing each other in this type of nature, was not something to be ashamed of. Yet, Blossom could not be nothing but timid about thoughts on that particular topic.

After Henry, Blossom was not surprised by the progression of her having physical intimacy issues. He had used her in ways that she should have never agreed to and now Blossom has to deal with the lasting effects of their relationship on more than one level.

Furthermore, the idea of her and Brick becoming intimate in such a way was not easy for her to settle into. Yes, she was attracted to him and hopes one day certain thoughts about them would not be weird for her. That one day, she would be comfortable enough to have sex with him and know what it was like to be with someone she was truly in love with but, as of now, there was no ease in her. It was not like how she had a subconscious want to be near Brick when she met him for the first time again. Or how calm her mind was when she kissed him at the Grand Canyon. All of those times, Blossom was able to be secure with Brick because they have all happened beforehand. Therefore, she was left with nothing but glee and the sense of being home when experiencing moments between them over again.

Yet, when the rare thoughts of physical intimacy came to her, Blossom's mind felt hazy and vacant. There was no faceless memories to draw upon like before. She was left with all the nerves and fears of repeating the mistakes of her past relationship instead. Which left her with the assumption, that because there was no gut feeling of calmness towards the topic, her and Brick never made it that far in their relationship before.

It was a notion Blossom wondered if Brick had come to discover on his own too...

On the bright side, Brick has never shown any signs of pressure. In fact, any moves towards advancing their relationship have all been on her part in this timeline.

She was the one who tried to connect with him. She was the one who encouraged him to attempt to get his GED. She was the one who admitted her feelings first. She kissed him first. She asked him to be her boyfriend.

Noticing those type of things, made Blossom appreciate Brick even more. He respected her boundaries, allowing her to move forward when she felt comfortable to do so. It all led her to firmly know he would do the same when considering the process of furthering their relationship physically.

She knew deep down that she did not need to be flustered around him about these type of things, but it was going to take her some time to fully get use to the idea.

"I was in a rush," Blossom remarked. Her face, all the way down to her neck, was still hot from the entirety of the visit.

"To see me?" Brick questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. "We see each other everyday, sweetheart. I thought by now you would get tired of my ass."

"Quite the opposite, Brick," Blossom smiled happily. "But I came to get the journal."

Brick opened his mouth to reply but it hung for a moment. His jaw tightened together afterward. A hard swallow followed.

"You're trying to come up with a new plan?"

Blossom inhaled and exhaled smoothly. "Yeah. I am."

"... Are you sure that's the best idea at this time?" Brick questioned hesitantly. "After what happened to Brat, I'm…" He swallowed again. His face paler than normal. "I'm worried that Him will do something to," His voice dipped lower, coming out in a frightened whisper. "You."

"And I'm worried about Him doing something to you," Blossom said softly. Her mind flashing to Him stabbing Brick after his decision to sacrifice himself for her in one of the visions from the past. The image of it, still haunted her each and every day. "I can't be content with the thought of Him lingering around and none of us doing anything. I need to find a way to help. It's… It's helping me cope…"

Brick stayed quiet for a moment before nodding to her, pushing off of the door frame. "Alright," he said, motioning for her to come into his home.

He closed the door after she came in. His finger pointed over to the coffee table as he made his way over to his bathroom door. He began to talk from inside the opposite room.

"The translated journal is over there. I don't know if it will help you though. Other than what I told you, the rest of it was a jumbled mess. I'm pretty sure Buttercup's dad was erratic when he wrote some of his passages. But if you are going to read it, I think it's best if you stay here and read it since Townsville has Him acting like an all seeing eye."

Brick came out of his bathroom. A toothbrush in his mouth while a little bit of the white toothpaste he was using foamed against his lips. He had a burgundy tee-shirt in his hand, which he tossed over to Blossom.

The redhead caught the item of clothing, grateful he gave her something to cover up with. Her eyes traced over the white lettering stating, Property of South Townsville High Athletics with an animated image of their mountain lion mascot underneath. She mouthed thank you to him before putting on the shirt. Blossom took in a deep inhale, finding the material smelled like Brick. The funny thing about having fire powers, was it made her boyfriend smell like a walking forest fire. A scent that warmed Blossom's entire body and soul.

"You're okay with me staying here alone?" She questioned after retrieving the journal from the coffee table. Blossom knew how much Brick liked his personal space and dislike towards feeling invaded by anyone.

He stopped brushing his teeth, taking out the plastic brush, "Yeah," he shrugged nonchalantly without a moment to question it. "As long as you don't touch the oven, I'm good."

"That was one time," Blossom huffed out.

The last time—and only time—she had tried to cook at Brick's home was a few weeks ago. It was a simple box of macaroni and cheese and the results… were less than stellar.

"You almost burned my house down," Brick pointed out. "It's a good thing I can control fire because it would have been bad if I didn't."

"I still think it wasn't entirely my fault," she pouted.

"Right," Brick chuckled sarcastically.

He went back to brushing his teeth, finding himself disappearing back into the bathroom. A few seconds later, he rejoined her in the living room. His lips wiped clean from any white toothpaste. He went to his refrigerator, taking out a water bottle, and then to one of his kitchen cabinets. His hand reached for an orange pill bottle, opening the small container to shake out one of the small pills. He quickly popped it into his mouth along with a large swing of water. Brick wiped his lips with the back of mouth, choosing to speak again before Blossom could ask him what he just took.

"I could come by around noon to bring you some lunch?"

Blossom grinned at his generous offer. "I would love that."

Brick gave her a nod before slipping into his bathroom, leaving Blossom alone again.

The redhead, with the journal—and a pen she grabbed from his coffee table—in hand, went to Brick's dining table. As she sat down, Blossom took a deep breath. Her mind hoping this would give her some answers to the many, many questions she has.

She turned to the first page of the journal. Her finger ran along the page lightly, feeling the smooth writing made by Brick. A soft smile spread across her face when looking at his neat but high-pressured handwriting.

At this point, anything about him impressed her.

Rose-colored eyes began to read the first passage. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she turned to the next page. And then the next. To another page, and the one afterward.

Brick was right.

A lot of the writing seemed inconsistent. Professor Utonium's words were full of paranoia and mistrust. Some sentences would stop and new ones would begin without any punctuation to signal the shift. Not to mention, most of them barely spoke about Him. Instead, they were specifying random numbers. Each new entry having a number highlighted at random.

17… 37… 57... 77… 97… 17...

"Found anything?"

Blossom glanced over her shoulder, finding Brick behind her. He was dressed in his usual gray jumpsuit for work. His scarlet hair damp from a quick shower he must have taken and was ruffled messily. Car keys were in one hand.

"Not yet," she sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't remember Professor Utonium being like this. He was always so calm, intellectual, and together. I used to look up to him, Brick. I was originally interested to MIT because it was his Alma mater and all of the stories he used to tell me about the school. Seeing what he wrote…" Blossom began to frown. "It's just sad."

"That's what Him does," Brick said quietly. His hand perched on her shoulder to show support. "He knows how to bring out the worst in us."

Blossom cocked an eyebrow. "The worst in us…" she repeated. "Isn't that what Ace said to you at the lake? His plan for the night was to bring out the worst in all of us?"

"Yeah, he did," Brick replied after a beat. His lips pressed together in thought after confirming the connection.

"So maybe Him wants to make us all behave badly?" She thought out loud. A part of her was thrilled by the idea of having a clue as to what Him wanted.

Brick shook his head. "I don't know about that. Ace seemed more interested in the violent effects we could draw upon. For some of us, I can see how the worst in us would be to act out. But then you? Bubbles and Boomer? Brute? Your worst wouldn't be the same as Ace. Or Buttercup's and Berserk's."

"You're right," she huffed out. Her shoulders sunk down in defeat. "Him is more complicated than simply wanting all of us to act as if we were in the Hunger Games."

"Unfortunately, he is," Brick said quietly. "And as much as I want to stay here with you, I have to get to work. Just make sure you don't overwork yourself, alright?"

"I wouldn't," Blossom promised.

Brick smiled at her reply. He moved his hand from her shoulder, using it to lift up her chin. He leaned down, giving her a kiss goodbye. The strong taste of cinnamon danced across Blossom's lips from making contact with Brick's. As he began to stand back up again, Blossom gently tugged on the collar of his jumpsuit.

"I can I have one more?" She asked playfully.

Brick grinned at her. "Anything for you," he remarked, pressing down against her lips again. He let the kiss last longer than the first one before he pulled away. His free hand went to her head, ruffling her hair affectionately. "I'll be back around noon."

"Looking forward to it," Blossom grinned.

She instinctively combed through her hair as she watched Brick go to his front door. He gave her one last look before heading out. Once Blossom heard his truck start up, she began to read the journal again.

Brick's comment about bringing out the worst in them was stuck in the forefront of her mind when analyzing the pages.

September 27th

Repeat the sequence. The moon will turn the shade of blood. The meteor will make an appearance again—We are stuck here. Stuck with the threat. They don't know! The rest don't know. But we… I know! There has to be—What does the meteor bring? Why us? Why weren't we the final ones? The new group, they will be—Sedusa is close by. I must stop writing for now.

Blossom grew more disheartened by getting the picture of what Professor Utonium's mental state was like before his death. Him truly broke Professor Utonium.

He lost his sanity. Growing up, Professor Utonium was the most put together adult Blossom knew. He loved his family and his career…

Career…

Blossom widened her eyes as the realization came to her. Professor Utonium had lost both of his jobs a year before his death.

He used to teach at the university in Citiesville while also making new tech for an energy company in Phoenix. He was responsible for creating energy efficient power boxes for the town. There used to be one every other block.

Then a freak accident happened. One of the boxes in Buttercup and Butch's neighborhood exploded from being overpowered. Two individuals happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and lost their lives. Professor Utonium was fired soon afterward due to being a liability and was let go by the university for displaying some erratic behavior following the incident.

Blossom remembered how Buttercup kept swearing it was not her father's fault. She had watched him create the entire system and there was a kill-switch designed to contain any chances of a massive influx of power. Her, her father, the company in Phoenix, and those who worked for the town were the only ones who knew of the design. The civil servants of Townsville had gotten a peak at the blueprints when the Mayor signed for the project.

Now that Blossom knew Professor Utonium was apart of Him's group before her, it was hard for her not to agree with Buttercup's theory. Except it was not someone at City Hall, but Him who had manipulated the events.

Him took away Professor Utonium's passion and disgraced him.

Him had achieved at bringing out the worst in Professor Utonium. Insatiability was what caused him to lose his mind. It was the individual quality that ruined him.

For a year, Professor Utonium was lost with no help available for him. The only way he was able to cope, was trying to figure out how to stop Him. He must have known about Him's influence growing stronger on him. His research took over and drove him into a deeper madness. The paranoia Professor Utonium had was immensely valid, when Blossom thought about it now.

She flipped through more pages. Some of the passages were saying the same ideas in different phrases.

Repetition… Again… Happens more than once…

The paranoia was growing more and more with each page.

Blossom arched an eyebrow as Brick had written in the margins of the section that it used to involve multiple drawings in the original text. Ones that mostly represented each of a certain power they individually had.

December 7th

The meteor provides to the chosen. We were not them—None of us before were. We did not carry the traits for it. My dreams and research into the folks tales of the blood moon have allowed me to conclude we are not—They will be the group. They will be what has been chased after—Powers like no one has seen. Powers entwined with their soul. The meteor knows. It knows all…

Blossom wondered how Professor Utonium was able to decipher most of their powers from visions in his dreams. His writing painted a picture of a man out of his mind and spoke nothing of the truth, but he had figured out an aspect before everyone else while lost in his own madness.

And then his words about folk tales... How did anyone outside of Townsville know about Him or their abilities? Blossom hoped Professor Utonium would indulge more on that part.

However, Professor Utonium neglected to talk about their powers nor the folk tales anymore. Other than illusion, speed, and invisible being used a few more times, there was nothing much to make note of. The three words were used to describe their companion. Lack of sleep was equivalent to speed. Illusion and nightmares. Invisible and nausea.

They appeared to be the only side effects Professor Utonium had some understanding of.

After that, he failed to talk about them. At some point, the journal stopped discussing his research. Instead, it became personal.

He started writing about the state of his marriage. How Sedusa was overcautious about what he may discover. His want to protect her. There was a discussion of regrets he had over the course of his life. Buttercup's relationship with him and his hopes for her in life.

Blossom felt invasive reading some of the passages. They told a tale of a man losing his sanity but was trying to grip onto the little bits of reality he had left. His wife and daughter.

Sedusa was not her favorite person; and while her own mother was not a saint, Blossom could not help feeling grateful for her mother whenever hearing or seeing how Sedusa treats Buttercup. Yet, the picture Professor Utonium painted of her, she seemed… likable?

It was clear he loved her deeply and vice versa. It was a shame their story together had to end the way it did, Blossom noted with a heavy heart.

January 28th

There is not much time left. The ending is coming soon—So much I could have fixed. Mor—I let them down. I was the last one and I let them down. We all have succumb to—If only I had tried. If only we had been able to forgive each other. Together… we could have salvaged our lives. Then the worst came—I should have apologized. Time moves so quickly, it is hard to notice the wounds we have not let heal. Our past becomes our future, I have come to realize. My mistakes, I should have fixed—The end is coming soon. It will happen all again. Then he will be set free.

It was Sedusa and I's faults if that is how the events turn.

Blossom inhaled a shaky breath as she become acquainted with the knowledge of influence of the past. She was not sure if Professor Utonium was correct or if he was in a manic state when writing this passage. It could be another ramble of erratic thoughts.

There was no telling. Just like her visions, Blossom was not sure what she could believe or not.

However, there was one note that frightened her more than anything. The way Professor Utonium spoke, it almost sounded how Blossom's thoughts have been acting for the past week. The need to take responsibility. The mistakes piling into needs to fix things but when it came time to do so, it was too late.

Was she doomed to become him? To lose her sanity in the name of defeating something way bigger than her? Those notions... They were too alarming for her to easily digest them.

She did not want to lose herself. If she was on the verge of doing so, then perhaps Blossom should reconsider her position in all of this.

Maybe she was not the right person after all...

As she moved towards the end of the journal, Blossom was left with little questions answered and more brewing within her. Furthermore, she was starting to feel more buried than ever with no chance of digging herself out of the grave made for her.

Even when she turned to the last page, there was nothing to calm her fears down. Nothing to confirm her new theories. Or even her previous ones.

March 28th

It has all happened before. Years and years of suffering for one cause. Chaos will stop at nothing to return. I fear that I may find myself on the receiving end. My research has grown too dangerous over the past fifteen years. The darkness looming together once again for when it chooses a new group to torture. A group that I believe will finally give Him what he wants…

The blood moon will carry out the same routine but this time, it will work. My successors will gain control of the mysterious elements within them unlike my colleagues and I. Unlike those before us for the past ninety-five years.

I have to find a way to stop Him or the world will collapse under his reign. A world I do not want to expose my dear daughter to…

Sedusa says I should stop my obsession before it gets me killed. Before Him finds out how close I am. She thinks I should say quiet like her and the others.

I'm sorry my love, but there are certain things I cannot give up on. Him needs to be stopped. If not…

God save us all.

In his last entry, Professor Utonium seemed to be at his clearest. The last day before his death and he was more consistent with his thoughts. If things did not turn out the way they did, perhaps she would have more answers.

She would not be using a journal for guidance about an inter-dimensional demon who has silently been terrorizing the citizens of Townsville for ninety-five years…

Wait…

This was written five years ago, which meant this was the hundredth year. Blossom quickly recollected Brick's explanation of how the blood moon happened each twenty years for the past century. A fact in which went over her head when presented with the other information given on that day.

Blossom rapidly turned back to the beginning of the journal.

17… 37… 57… 77… 97… 17…

Those six numbers were not random. They were dates. Each the year of the blood moon. Each the year of when the meteor selected a new group.

Repetition… Again… Happens more than once…

There was no control over their actions it seemed. They were simply replaying the past. They were paralleling those before them.

History was known to repeat itself, and in this case, Blossom was fearful of it being true.

That they had no chance of changing the course of events.

Were they truly doomed all along? Was trying to stop Him a wasted effort after all?

Blossom did not want to believe it but from the slim amount of evidence she had, everything pointed in one direction.

Chaos was unstoppable. Him should have won by now.

If it was not for the strange time loop, Him's century long imprisonment of being stuck halfway through this dimension would have been over a long time ago.

Which again, brought to Blossom's attention as to why did the time loop exist? What was Him trying to achieve with it if it was even Him's doing it?

Blossom wished she could travel back in time and find ways to prevent the repetition of the past. To stop Him from tormenting her and the others like he has done to the other groups.

She wanted to know what the other groups went through. What caused them to fall apart so easily and what made her group different from the others.

Without realizing it, Blossom had began to write down the sequence of dates. Her fingertips brushed upon the soft page of paper. A little bit of the black ink smudged under her skin.

Blossom heard herself breathing heavily but it was distant to her. As if it was not coming from her own body. Her surroundings were becoming blurry. Her head grew light and dizzy. Light faded in and out in flashes. Her eyes were growing heavier and heavier the more she fought it.

She did not know what was going on with her body. There was no way for her to control what was happening.

In a matter of moments, things went black and she was no longer conscious to the world around her...

---

Unknown Date

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time…

Blossom groaned to herself. Her eyes peeled open. She slowly grew more conscious, finding herself on the ground outdoors. She sat herself up, rubbing her temples.

Her head… It felt like a scrambled mess. As if it was a television stuck permanently on with static snow.

It took Blossom a few moments to adapt to her surroundings. Her mind becoming a little bit clearer as she recognized where she was.

She was at Lake Canem Loquentes.

Blossom's hands pressed into the ground underneath her as she pushed herself to stand up. Her head felt empty, making her stumble in her footing. She grabbed onto a nearby pine tree for support. A few deep breaths were taken for her to relieve her lightheadedness.

She took a glance at her hand using the tree for support. Her skin was transparent, allowing her to see through it. The bark of the tree peeking through led her to know that she was not physically in the moment.

Whatever this was, it was a personal vision for her.

She wandered around the pine forest. Her feet moved slower than normal. It was as if someone had reduced time around her, making her feel lethargic with each step made.

The lake soon came into her sight.

Or at least, what the lake should be.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows, finding a large crater in the center of the land. The length being almost exact to what the lake was. The only difference was, the hole seemed much shallower than the current state of what the lake was. It was about fifteen feet deep with a plateau made shortly by the shoreline; while Blossom remembered the long incline she had to travel to get to the center of the lake on Halloween.

In the middle of the crater, four men stood together. Concrete walls were being constructed in the moonlight.

The underwater bunker, Blossom noted to herself quickly.

She hid between a pine tree despite them not being able to see her, hoping to get more of an idea of what was going on.

Her eyes analyzed the men. They seemed to be in their late thirties. Their appeal was odd to her. It seemed dated.

They all wore overalls designed with pinstripes. Underneath, they wore long sleeve button down shirts. The collars of their shirts were noticeably stiff. Newsboy caps were adorned to the crown of each of their heads.

Their appearance reminded Blossom of her United States History class in high school. The time spent learning about the workers and unions in America during the beginning of the twentieth century.

Blossom came to the sudden thought that it was possible she had traveled back in time. That this was not a vision after all. She, unexpectedly, had tapped into her powers for once and was able to get results. And now, she was at the beginning.

The first night of the blood moon.

It was 1917 and she was about to witness the start of Him's terror.

She looked up at the moon. The celestial object was perfectly aligned with the center of the hole in which would soon be Lake Canem Loquentes. A thick red haze was formulating around the moon.

Blossom felt the urge to warn the men. To let them escape the fate Brick had informed her about. However, she was not truly there. This was a replay of events for her to witness like a live play. The men would not be able to see her nor hear any warnings she may have. There was nothing she could possibly do.

Instead, Blossom was stuck watching them work on the mysterious room. Two were focused entirely on building the structure while the other two were jabbering on about current events.

One was speaking critically about the government's involvement with the war, while the other was pleased since it gave them work to do.

It was soon revealed to her by them about the purpose of the bunker. The room was to be used to interrogate any German spies that were suspected in the southwestern region of the United States.

With that newly acquainted knowledge, Blossom instantly realized she had been in the bunker before. The interrogation room where Berserk and Butch were in during her vision, that was the inside of the bunker. The scene of where she met Robin back in the forest, it was from the same event.

Robin had used her invisibility on Blossom to sneak her into the bunker. That was how she was able to see Butch and Berserk without them seeing her.

With that theory, the redhead came to the acknowledgement that she may have not seen a vision from Butch after all. In fact, the insight to Berserk and Butch's relationship, may have been a personal look of her own into another timeline.

Perhaps, it was not truly about Butch and Berserk either. Nor was the other scene about Robin and her odd behavior.

The visions were actually about the bunker. How it was the interrogation room and the way to access it was on the other side of the lake by the trees Brick had burnt for a momentarily length of time on Halloween.

It was another warning. A clue she was not receptive to the real meaning of until later.

All of them were. It seemed like all of them were carefully selected for Blossom to see. Each having a hidden meaning she glossed over unintentionally in favor for the more obvious parts she witnessed.

As Blossom was about to connect some more pieces together, the moon had descended into a rich shade of red.

All four of the men paused in what they were doing. Bewilderment struck across each of their faces.

A bright light soon raced towards them. The mysterious meteor was making it's first appearance in the century it would terrorize.

Blossom sucked in a deep breath. Her hands tightened together in a white knuckle grip. Her stomach churned from the remembrance of the night at the lake. The terror she felt from seeing her impending doom. The hopelessness she held in her chest as there was no escape from the path of the meteor.

It was determined to hit them. She was destined to be one of the victims of the meteor. Just as these four men were too.

In the blink of an eye, the blinding light crashed into them. The ground sunk in with the entity, driving the crater deeper into the earth.

The white light slowly devolved into darkness. The earth underneath the lake began to crack. Large fractures were forming along the center of the lake, only to be stopped by the solid concrete structure of the bunker.

Jet-black shadows were seeping through from the cracks, released into the night air. The atmosphere sharply changed into a more intense heat. A climate more similar to the one Townsville was under in her current time, Blossom realized.

The shadows seemed to collect above the bunker. A crimson beam of light flared underneath. The shadows swirled together, converging into one. A dark figure was being birthed from the action.

And that figure was Him.

The demon had crossed over with the meteor's impact. The entity created a dent in the gateway of their two respective dimensions to allow Him through.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows as Him appeared to be confused himself. His dark transparent eyes were stuck on his body.

Him seemed to be realizing he did not make it over completely. His physical form stuck in his own dimension still.

The bunker, Blossom noted, had prevented Him from coming over completely. It blocked the fracture from allowing the gateway to fully open.

Him seemed to try going back to the fracture but the Earth slowly merged back together. In a matter of seconds, it seemed as if there was never any fissures there.

The gateway had closed. Him was too late to retrieve his physical body.

He was stuck in this dimension without his true form.

A dark mist covered the water-less lake as Him appeared to be outraged by his reality. His focus went to the four workers who laid on the ground under him. They survived the meteor, just as Blossom did. Him summoned one of the men, lifting his unconscious body with his mind.

The construction worker's arms and legs began to bend inward. His limbs were twisted together like a pretzel. His hips contorted unnaturally. More and more...

Blossom had to look away as she heard the echoes of bones cracking loudly in her ears. She closed her eyes, wishing to leave. She had seen enough of this period in time.

She wanted to leave.

She needed to leave...

---

Unknown Date

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time…

Blossom's mind had faded to complete darkness before coming back to her. She opened her eyes like before, finding herself at the lake again. Her body still transparent to her sight.

She had traveled through time again. Blossom figured she must be going through each date now. If so, she must be in 1937.

The redhead made pace around the pine forest again. Her head seemed a bit less light from the use of her powers, making it easier for her to get up this time around.

The lake came into her line of vision once again. The setting was eerily familiar to what she knew as Lake Canem Loquentes' in present day. The crater of the man-made lake was filled to the brim of inky water.

Oddly, the sky did not have a red haze brewing with the silver moonlight.

Blossom scanned the area, trying to find anything she must take note of but strangely found everything to be the same to current time. It was like the lake never changes after the first date.

As if time stood still, forever frozen in one single moment.

That must be a reason why it was important for her to get to the center of the lake. It could be the strongest area of untapped energy from the space-time continuum. That and it was directly underneath the gateway to Him's dimension.

She was still not sure how she played into the factor of the dimensional gate yet, as Blossom had the feeling it had more to do with Him getting the keys of chaos than her powers.

In the corner of her eye, Blossom caught sight of a woman across the lake.

She had her head covered by a white scarf tied underneath her chin. Dark shades covered her eyes despite it being the middle of the night. Her face even hard to make out in the distance.

The redhead jogged over to where the woman was heading, which was into the pine forest opposite from Blossom.

The same location Brick had set ablaze when fighting Berserk.

It took her a few minutes but Blossom caught up to her. She was alone in the wooded area. Her sunglasses were off, held tightly in her left hand. Her eyes focused on a tiny wrist watch. A oddly shaped boulder granted her support as she leaned against it.

She was dressed in an ankle-length, navy peplum dress. Red buttons ran straight down the upper half of the dress. Wooden heels dyed the same hue were strapped to her tiny feet. Vibrant scarlet lipstick was painted onto her lips. Her skin could be comparable to fine china. Sharp cheekbones, a heart-shaped face, and almond-shaped eyes added more to her appearance.

The woman decided to remove her headscarf, freeing her short ebony hair. The length of her hair was curled and ended right above her chin.

When she glanced up, the redhead caught sight of her slate-colored eyes. To Blossom, they reminded her of the moon.

She was like a porcelain doll. Beautiful to look at but seemed cold to the touch.

The woman stayed alone for a long period of time before a twig cracked in the distance. A man soon appeared from the forest.

His stature was much taller than her. About a foot or so. A verdant dress shirt, wide-legged brown pants, and oxfords of the same shade of his trousers covered his body. A gold chain could be found in his right pocket, which Blossom figured must be a pocket watch. His hair was the shade of honey and was slicked back with an impossible amount of hair cream. His eyes were a striking color of amber.

"Lawrence," the woman greeted coldly. She folded her arms. A dark, starkly drawn eyebrow arched upward. "It's about time."

"Come on, Catherine," he chuckled. "I did the best I could do. And look, I made it here to see you like you wanted."

"Yes, yes. I suppose," she said under her breath. She glanced down at the pebbles on the ground. A heavy sigh escaped from her lips. "...We should end this."

"What? Why?" Lawrence exasperated. He took a step forward. The gravel underneath him crunched loudly from his heavyweight. "Is this about Edith?"

Catherine avoided his gaze. Her head turned to the side. "Maybe it is…"

The man inhaled through his nostrils. His eyes closed for a moment to calm himself down. Both of his large hands reached out for Catherine, settling on her upper arms. They gently held onto her as he tried to appease her.

"I've told you time and time again, Catherine. I'm in love with you. Edith and I… I have to do what will make my parents happy. And that's marrying into her family, unfortunately. I can't—" His face wavered for a second. A brief moment of vulnerability. He cleared his throat to prevent anymore of those emotions to display. "I can't get out of this unfavorable commitment. I thought you understood that."

"I did," she mumbled. Her dark eyelashes fluttering upward as Catherine finally allowed herself to look up at him. "But after… that night, I find myself unsatisfied with the thought of being the other woman."

Blossom widened her eyes at the acknowledge Catherine made and what it most likely meant. Her and Lawrence were hit by the meteor. Which also means, Him had his eyes on them. They were another one of his many to come casualties.

"I do not want to be a secret for you, Lawrence. I want to marry. I want a family with the man I love. I want to enjoy life for every moment and not some brief ones I have in the darkness of sneaking around. I do not want to die having any ill notions towards the choices I make. And my family may not have the same amount of wealth as Edith's but if you truly loved me, you would leave her. You would not go through with the wedding. If that is too much for you, if you do not agree, if you cannot find yourself man enough to make the decision we both know would make you happy, then I will move on. I will find a man who could give me children in a respectable way. One who would not keep me hidden for the rest of my life."

Blossom tilted her head. She wondered if complicated love triangles were prevalent in most of the groups chosen. How Lawrence and Catherine carried themselves, resembled Butch and Berserk to her. One was icy with trust issues. The other was warm and had a difficult time at making personal decisions.

Not to mention the secret romance aspect both relationships had, added more to the comparison.

Catherine waited for Lawrence to answer her. His grip on her loosely. Hands fell back to his sides.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I wish things could be different for us. If we met before I was engaged…"

The ebony-haired woman remained mum. Her scarlet lips parted a little. She wanted to say something but could not find the words it seemed.

After an uncomfortable length of silence, Catherine spoke up.

"You truly are a pathetic man, aren't you?" She whispered.

Blossom figured she wanted to seem angry. To make Lawrence regret making an enemy out of her. However, her voice expressed the recently developed heartbreak she held. The hurt she felt was inescapable.

If Catherine and Lawrence did parallel Butch and Berserk, Blossom was a bit happy things worked out for the latter half. Even though they were traitors to the human race, it was hard for the redhead not to appreciate their unconditional love for each other. Catherine and Lawrence... their fault was there were too many conditions to their love for each other.

"Catherine," he breathed. "I said I was sorry. Can't that be enough for you?"

She shook her head, "It is not. You surely made the wrong decision tonight. Edith will never—"

Before Catherine could finish her sentence, she was flung back into a tree. As was the same with Lawrence. A dark mist trailed in from the surrounding forest.

It was not long until Him formed before them. Catherine narrowed her eyes at him. She attempted to point her finger at Him but was restricted due to the mass force keeping her pushed against the tree.

"You!" Catherine shouted out fearfully. "You're the thing that has been haunting me! You're the monster from my dreams!"

Him grinned in delight at her reaction. "And I'm the monster outside of your dreams too, darling."

"What—What do you want?" Lawrence trembled.

Him's dark eyes flickered between the two. "I believe you both have something I need."

The dark figure gravitated towards Lawrence. A wispy hand stroked the side of his face. In a matter of seconds, Lawrence was screaming at top of his lungs with Catherine doing the same hysterical. Blood was rushing out of his nostrils and eyes. His body shook violently under Him's strong hold over him.

Blossom wished to leave again but found no luck. She was stuck with her eyes closed, unable to force herself to willing see Lawrence's death.

"What did you do to him?" Catherine shrilled in between her sobs. "Why—Why would you…"

"I told you, I need something from the both of you. There are many ways I could go about getting chaos, but this way is so much more delicious for me..."

Blossom opened her eyes for a brief moment at the mention of chaos before shutting them again, narrowly missing Catherine's turn at having her life end.

He killed them for the keys of chaos. Him believed they would have opened the gateway.

From what Brick told them all, none of the groups before them were able to give Him what he wanted. Meaning, Lawrence and Catherine died for no reason at all.

It only fulfilled Him's bloodlust...

---

Unknown Date

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time…

Blossom gasped harshly. Her eyes snapped open.

She had awakened in the same spot. The night stars above the lake greeted her once again. They were the only friendly aspect to what she has seen so far.

The redhead was able to stand up with more ease again, stumbling only once in her way towards the lake.

Through the forest, she could already hear voices. Shouting and accusations filled the stagnant air.

Blossom hurried in her steps, making her way out of the pine forest to find a group of seven. A clear division was made between the individuals. Three stood on one side facing the four others. An intense standoff was in full effect.

"We need to address what happened! We can't keep running away from the–the–The freak!" A blonde girl argued, stumbling a little with trying to figure out a name for the shadow haunting them; while Blossom confirmed to herself that the 1957 group has already experienced the blood moon and were obviously dealing with the consequences of the aftermath.

She looked about Blossom's age—as did the other six individuals. Her hair was long and straight. She was skinny and taller than the two guys who stood next to her. Her face long and narrow with a significantly, pointy and elongated nose.

"Are you insane, Margaret?" Another girl from the opposing side exclaimed. Her hair darker than the lake's water at night. Chubby cheeks puffed out in outrage. "We're not going to risk losing our damn minds trying to figure out some fever dreams you keep having."

"She's not the only having them," a scrawny brunet pitched in. "I saw them too."

The only male of the other side scoffed at the brunet's remark. His eyes rolled dramatically. "Of course, Joseph has to be Margaret's hero and make her feel less insane. Newsflash loser, she is not going to let you in her pants. So just stop lying already and get over yourself."

"Gerald, you're only saying that because Margaret turned you down and now you're jealous," Joseph egged on.

The two males took a step closer to one another, puffing out their chests in a macho contest. Gerald had the clear advantage over the brunet. His body stature was similar to Butch's, having an intimidating height and muscular body mass.

"Oh god, put your dicks away already," a redhead girl groaned from the majority side. The two boys looked over to her before backing away from each other. Their great dislike for the other was evident from their faces. The redhead let out a tired sigh, shifting her weight, "We're not going to help you guys. We all agreed to not discuss what happened that night. So just shut up already and deal with it."

"Do you always have to act like your better than everyone, Barbara?" The other male beside Margaret questioned. His thick blond eyebrows furrowed together in frustration.

"Yeah, I do," she said firmly. "Is there a problem with that, Bobby?" She used his name venomously. As if it was poison upon the tip of her tongue.

Bobby laughed at her dryly. "And you wonder why I broke up with you."

"I don't actually," Barbara snapped.

"So you do have an understanding it was because of your utterly annoying, superiority complex?"

Barbara gritted her teeth together at his condescending comment. She took a step forward, jabbing his shoulder aggressively.

"No! It because you couldn't keep your hands off of Margaret!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Gerald chimed in. His finger pointed at Bobby. "You scored with Barbara and Margaret? Nice job, man!" The boy put up his hand for a high five but Bobby was too busy sending Barbara daggers.

"Barbara, we didn't do—"

"Shut it, bird-face," the redhead ordered. "Ruth saw you both at the cinema the week before Bobby broke up with me."

"That I did," the girl with the dark hair added. "So did Donna." She nudged her shoulder towards the short girl next to her, to which Donna nodded.

"We didn't—It wasn't what," Margaret began to fumble. "Guys, this isn't about Bobby and me—"

"You and Bobby are together?" Joseph murmured beside her. Hurt emotions expressed across his face.

"Jo, we—"

"Ha!" Gerald mocked. "You've spent all of high school following her around like a lapdog only for her to chose your best friend. Oh, that's golden," the tall male laughed boastfully.

In a matter of minutes, the group divulged into chaos. Joseph and Gerald began shoving each other around, with Joseph being jerked around like a rag doll. Bobby and Barbara were at each other's throats—they could have given Buttercup and Butch a run for their money with dragging on and involving others into their bitter breakup. Margaret was sharing her frustrations with Ruth and Donna for spreading rumors. The two girls were too busy shaming the blonde about her relations to care about what Margaret had to say.

All in the midst of this, the seven missed out on the dark energy peering out from across the lake. A sinister smile watched his entertainment from a far.

Blossom knew why Him was pleased. The seven were bringing out the worst in each other. They were creating enough chaos for Him to feed off of. He must have thought they would have been the group to get the keys of chaos from.

She could see why he did. There was too much bad blood between the seven of them. Too many secrets, resentment, and lack of remorse to their actions. There was no sense of togetherness in any of them. No strong foundation of trust. They were the perfect group to fall under Him's manipulation.

According to Professor Utonium's journal, this may be the same way his friend group shattered. They repeated these seven individuals' mistakes.

Blossom, now, knew she could not let her friends become the same. They needed each other more than she realized...

---

Unknown Date

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time…

The wake up was much gentler. Her eyes fluttered open softly. The night sky was as calm as her mind felt.

Blossom stood, finding no problems at all. She carried out the same actions like before, heading for the lake itself first.

As expected, Blossom found a woman running in the distance. Her location heading in a similar direction.

It was the same way Catherine had gone to meet up with Lawrence.

Blossom followed after her, only to be brought to a halt in the same exact area as she was in 1937.

The woman—a dark-skinned brunette dressed in all black and was carrying a satchel—seemed interested in the odd boulder; the same one Catherine had used as support to lean on when waiting for Lawrence. The woman kept circling around the rock. Her eyes searched critically for something.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. It was just a rock, why was she spending so much time on it?

Unless…

The redhead started circling around the boulder too. There was something bizarre about it. The surface texture appeared to be fake. The shape of the rock has not eroded or weathered over the past four decades. The way the ground seemed to incline into the earth around it was another unusual factor.

The woman, in her act of examining the rock, crouched down to her hands and knees. Her fingers slipped into a space—a width of no more than an inch and a half—in between the rock and the ground. Her full hand soon followed, then her other one. In a use of her might, the woman propped the rock up—except it was not a rock at all.

It was a disguised doorway. The opening for the bunker, Blossom acknowledged.

The woman gazed down into the manhole, climbing onto the long ladder used to lead down to the even ground that the bunker was on. Blossom accompanied her in her descend into the bunker.

The drop down to solid ground was much longer than Blossom had predicted. It must have been two or three minutes before her and the woman were congruent with the bunker.

They were brought to a long hallway. Industrial lights from decades before kept the narrow space in dim illumination. The walls were lined with dingy white subway tiles while the floors were smooth concrete.

The woman reached into her satchel, pulling out a camera. The loud shuttering of the object echoed off the walls. When she seemed satisfied with her photo intake, the woman put the camera back in her bag and started running down the hallway.

She trailed behind the woman by ten steps for awhile before both were brought to a halt by a door at the end of the hallway. The sound of the woman's panting intensified in Blossom's ears as did her own need to catch her breath. The stranger's hands went to the hatch of the door, opening it slowly.

The doorway led into a barely lit room, which other than the two different doors to choose from, was completely empty. The walls were made out of solid concrete as oppose to the ones in the hallway.

The woman pulled out her camera again, snapping more photos of the room for unknown reasons.

She entered the room, going for the door to the right of her.

It took Blossom a moment to realize she recognized the entire room. It was the one she found herself in before finding the interrogation room.

The woman was repeating the same actions Blossom had done before—or had Blossom copied her?

The woman took multiple photographs in a frenzy of the room.

"The Mayor is going to have a hard time denying this place, now isn't he?" The woman questioned to herself with a smirk.

Blossom took a step back, her eyes welling up in fear as an ominous cloud swirled around the woman's feet. She had the same reaction as Blossom, backing herself against the wall containing the one-way window.

Him's wispy figure conjured up before her.

The redhead knew where this was going. After Catherine and Lawrence, Blossom could not bare watching another person's end.

Without any hesitations, Blossom sprinted out of the room, begging for herself to snap out of this time period. The sound of the woman's shrills of agony played over Blossom's ears as the world faded to black around her...

---

Unknown Date

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time…

The scream…

She could still hear the woman screaming as she woke up in the new time period.

The last time period. 1997.

Sedusa and Jonathan Utonium were apart of this group. Perhaps other individuals she knew in Townsville were secretly apart of Him's scheme too...

She made the familiar route to the lake. Her head the most calm it has been in weeks.

Well, if one did not count the constant image of Brat's lifeless body being flashed to the forefront of her mind or the newly acquired replay of the poor woman's cry of pain, then her thoughts were the most safest place to be.

There was a bonfire happening on the lake's shore. Embers of the flames flickered into the night air as seven individuals were among those on the beach.

Blossom quickly found Buttercup's dad. His appearance had not changed much from his youth. Other than the slight lines of age on his forehead he acquired in the few years before his death, Professor Utonium surely was beating Father Time.

He was engaged in a conversation with a short male.

The man had a head full of thick, raven-colored hair. His built stocky and wide. From Blossom understanding, he appeared to have some ancestral ties to Eastern Asia.

Blossom narrowed her eyes for moment. The man… he looked oddly familiar.

"Sara! Sedusa!" Professor Utonium called out, pausing his conversation with the unknown male as the two females came from the pathway leading from the parking lot of the lake. "I'm so glad you both came."

Blossom snapped her neck over to the two.

It could not be…

Rose-colored eyes immediately identified the person in question.

It was her mom with an incredibly pregnant Sedusa.

Her mom…

She was involved.

Blossom let her mouth hang, unable to function initially from the new knowledge.

Her mom had ties to Him. This whole time. For twenty years, her mom kept the secret of an inter-dimensional demon looming over the town.

Once she ingested the revelation with some deep breaths, Blossom finally had the curtain lifted in her mind to help unveil the truth.

It should be more of a lasting surprise to her. She should expect more from her mom to be innocent. To be in denial about something so life-altering to her.

Yet, now, it was perfectly clear to Blossom that her mom must be apart of the few who are spreading chaos discreetly.

The way she has led Townsville into focusing on trivial matters instead of eradicating the Gangreen Gang a long time ago. Wasting town funding on expanding city hall for no reason at all other than widening the gap between those who lived in the "Rich Pines" to those who did not. Her decision to ruin Morris Jojo without a lack of regard.

The affair she was having with Bubbles' father… It was not a power grab or use of poor decision making. It was strategy. A way to wreck a marriage to bring out the worst in two individuals. Thus, allowing Him to feed off the chaos caused by the dissolve of a former relationship built on love.

Her mom was too smart for her own good. Which meant, her mom was an excellent partner for Him. A valuable one.

Which made Blossom question why Him was willing to sacrifice her mom if Brick went through with burning City Hall?

"Right, like I was going to miss out on my going away celebration," her mom replied back to Professor Utonium when the four merged together. A cooler was placed near the fire, which her mom went to, grabbing three bottles of wine coolers and a water. She handed the two other bottles full of alcohol to the males and the water to Sedusa, rising her bottle in the air. "Cheers to me getting the hell out of this town and finally making it to California!"

Blossom watched as they clinked their bottles together. A pair of electric green eyes rolled at the words of the redhead beside her.

She continued to watch the four for a moment but found herself eyeing the others there with them.

A group of three men were standing by the lake's shoreline, each smoking cigarettes respectively.

There was a lanky blond. He wore a pair of glasses with thick frames and a tight white shirt. His nose was long, sloping downward.

It took her a few moments to come to realization that he was Boomer's biological dad.

Richard Hardly.

Or as her mom and his colleagues called him, he was known as Dick. The man who was famous for sticking his junk in anything that could walk. Boys, girls, anyone and everyone; he did not care as along as they were attractive. His promiscuity was what resulted in him accidentally getting a woman pregnant at the age of twenty-one—which, given the time period she was currently in, Boomer had to be about eight months old. It also meant, Dick Hardly had four more months until a chubby baby boy would be left in his care as Boomer's mom would go off to pursue her college degree in England.

Furthermore, he was the same man who left Boomer and his partner for no explainable reason a few years into the future.

Well, Blossom had the reason for his disappearance now. He was trying to escape Him.

There was a man who would was balding pretty badly for being a young age and sporting a pot belly. It was easy for Blossom to recognize him as Gustavo. The owner of White Kitty's.

He was a man Boomer would point out on repeat occasions as being odd. She heard around town about the fact of the owner spoke more to his cockatoo than his customers or employees.

Perhaps his slip in sanity had to do with Him.

Rex Morbucks was the other person she knew. His apricot hair color and sausage fingers were the key indicators to her.

His involvement, like her mother's, was not hard to accept. This was a man who prided himself on keeping his wealth at any means possible, had no shame in destroying the environment with his company's factory waste, and spent most days making others feel inferior.

Yeah, he fit perfectly into Him's cause.

On the rock used for seating on the beach, two women sat together.

One had rich, dark skin. Her ebony hair shaped into a long crew cut. The haircut did wonders for her as it showed off her high cheekbones beautifully, making her seem otherworldly. Her eyes were a captivating shade of olive, which contrasted greatly with her skin tone, making them the first thing most people went to.

For some reason, she remained Blossom of Brute.

As she thought about it, Brute did talk about how her mom made them move out of Townsville for mysterious reasons. When her dad wanted to move back to town to save Otto's from closing, Brute's mom decided not to go back with them.

If it was Brute's mom, this could explain why her mom wanted to leave Townsville. She was trying to escape Him as Boomer's dad had done.

The other woman… it was clear to Blossom she was not from Townsville. She spoke with a southern drawl, and held herself with effortless grace and etiquette.

A true Southern Belle she was.

Her head was full of large dark ringlets. A round face and full lips; slender shoulders, porcelain skin, and tiny hands.

Her left hand was decorated with an antique engagement and wedding rings. A gold band for her marriage matched the same aesthetic of the three, marquise-cut diamonds of her engagement ring. The center gem was larger than the two next to it but the middle was no bigger than half of a karat. The design was simplistic yet elegant, much to Blossom's own personal liking.

She turned to the side, allowing Blossom to get an even better view of her face. The woman had eyes that were the shade of emerald jewels, alluring anyone with the treasure of her warm and kind spirit.

"... No," Blossom murmured to herself at the sad acknowledgment she made.

The woman had to be Butch's mom. Caroline Lumpkins. A woman she had only seen in photographs during her rare visits to Butch's home.

She was going to die a year and a half from now. A death in which was ruled a car related accident caused by the driver. She had apparently fallen asleep at the wheel after having dinner at a friend's home and crashed into one of the pine trees by the lake.

As Blossom kept her gaze on her, the redhead had a gut feeling the car accident was not Caroline Lumpkins' fault. There was foul play involved. The type of foul play consisting of Him's manipulation.

Her mom seemed to have taken interest in Caroline too, dragging a waddling Sedusa along with her to start up a conversation with the petite woman.

Blossom made the move to get closer to the girls to listen in on their conversation. She stood silently in the middle behind Caroline and the dark-skinned woman. Unknowing to her mom, her future daughter was peering into the eyes of her younger self.

"Carol, it's been so long," her mom commented, placing a hand on the dark-haired woman's shoulder.

"I know," Caroline smiled happily. She let out a blissfully sigh before speaking more, "My little man keeps me occupied most days. I still can't believe in two months he'll be a year old."

"Well, I can't believe you and Fuzzy decided to have a kid at twenty-one," her mom remarked, removing her hand from Caroline and using it to twirl one of her own curls. The passive aggressiveness was quickly read by everyone. "Don't you worry about being stuck as a housewife for the rest of your life?"

Caroline shrugged her shoulders, "I don't mind the idea at all. Being someone's mom has always been a dream of mine."

Her mom grimaced for a brief moment before saving face.

"That's… cute."

"Thank you," Caroline replied, not reading too much into Sara Bellum's expression nor did she care to have done so as she wanted to remain in a polite nature.

"Having a kid young doesn't mean you will be reduced to a housewife," the dark-skinned woman next to Caroline pitched in. "It's the nineties, Sara. Not the fifties. Children don't have to be a handicap to a woman's career anymore."

"Really, Heather? Because Rex made his wife quit her job last year before she got pregnant in order to better prepare herself to produce him a heir to Morbucks Industries."

Heather rolled her eyes, "That's because Rex is a misogynistic asshole—which, I don't understand why you even dare to be associated with someone like him."

Her mom shrugged off her comment, "He has good connections."

The dark-skinned woman arched an eyebrow with interest. "So he is the one who got you the internship with the Senator in California?"

"It's possible," Sara replied sheepishly, taking a sip of her wine cooler.

It was cherry flavored.

"And what kind of favors did you have to do for a 'connection' from him?"

"I got the internship all on my own merit, actually. But I do wish you would believe I am above such behavior, Heather. Especially when considering he is married," her mom retorted. It seemed as if the moment was growing sour but her mom let out a smirk. "However, that doesn't mean I haven't gone down that path once before, but a girl doesn't kiss and tell."

Blossom rubbed her arms uncomfortably. Her mom and Princess' dad? Yuck. Double yuck to him cheating on his wife—which in present time, Blossom understood why she ended up divorcing him. In fact, the redhead was glad his ex-wife ended up getting one-fourth of his fortune and half of their shared properties in the divorce.

Heather and her mom exchanged a round of laughs while Butch's mom seemed uncomfortable by the conversation material. Sedusa's attention was not with them. Instead, her eyes were shifting over to her previous location. A hand rubbed her stomach in a protective nature.

"Bellum, I swear for someone who likes to be seen as a goody-goody, you get around more than a lion in a field full of injured gazelles."

"I suppose so."

"Hey, you get no shame from me—well, maybe just a little for willingly doing anything with Rex," Heather continued, putting up her hands to signal no harm. "But as long as you stay away from Harold, then I'm good."

Harold Boogieman. Brute's dad. So that was Brute's mom, Blossom confirmed to herself.

Her mom scrunched her nose up in disgust, "No offense but I'm not hooking up with a busboy."

"Well that busboy happens to be the smoothest guy around and gets me free cheese fries whenever I want," Heather countered. Her hands were on her hips now. "So I'll happily take him any day."

"To each their own," her mom said after a beat. She took another large swing of her cherry flavored wine cooler.

Blossom innately grimaced at the action.

"So are you excited to leave for California?" Caroline asked, attempting to change the conversation.

"I've been waiting to get out of Townsville since I was five, Carol," her mom answered with a certain bite. "And I need to get out of this godforsaken town before I become a useless housewife like my mother."

An awkward atmosphere gathered around the four girls, produced by Sara's words. To all of them, it could have been taken as a subtle dig directed at Caroline and her life choices. Or perhaps it was towards the soon to-be-mother in Sedusa. Her mom, however, did not seem regretful for what she had said.

"Well, I'm glad you're getting what you want," Caroline remarked genuinely. A warm smile on her lips.

"I heard that Senator you're working for is quite a looker," Heather added, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, he is," her mom smirked devilishly. "He's a total silver fox at the age of thirty-seven and used to play football back when he attended USC. Plus, his mind is brilliant and all. His strategy to gerrymander the Bay Area is in my top ten of state-based political moves."

Blossom felt gross listening to her mom talk about the man who would later become her father. She always thought what happened between them was a heat of the moment type of thing. Hearing this conversation, made Blossom realize how her mom had adulterous thoughts way before meeting her dad. It was pre-planned and knowing her mom, she must have been hellbent on hooking up with him.

Furthermore, seeing how much her mom wanted to leave Townsville and knowing the fact she did not, made Blossom question her mom's intentions. All those years of overbearing support to Blossom getting an education outside of Arizona, now seemed to have underlying wants behind them. It was not genuine. It was a push for what her mom truly wanted. Not for Blossom, but for herself.

The more she learned about her mom, the more Blossom wished none of it was true. That this was actually an alternative reality and not the past. It was easy for her to connect her mom's role in Him's plans yet to accept the idea of her mom being an all around garbage bag of person was not so effortless.

However, Blossom knew at one point in the future she would have to accept this was who her mom was—and still is.

Heather appeared profoundly upset about her mom's praising his use of gerrymandering for a moment before asking a question.

"So you're not going to—" Olive eyes darted over to across the beach. To the same location Sedusa had been sneaking peeks at the entire time. "Finish business here first?"

"I'm working on it," her mom said with a wink.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. Did her mom not know Sedusa and—But if she did know, then that would mean...

She shook her head, not wanting to conjure up that image in her head. Blossom, however, grew tired and disgusted by her mom's behavior. If this was how she acted at the age of twenty-one, then she understood why her mom ended up the way she did.

Blossom looked to the pair of males by the bonfire. At this point, she rather listen to anyone but her mom.

She walked over to Jonathan Utonium and the mysterious man. The two were carrying on a hushed conversation.

"I think we'll be fine," Professor Utonium eased.

"No, no, no. You don't understand, John. This lake. This place. It is cursed. Bad things will happen if we are here too late. We should leave before the night grows too old. If we don't, we'll be doomed like the others," the short man advised. His dark eyes were glazed over with petrified fear.

"Others?"

"Yes, others," the man nodded. "So many have died here. So many have perished for mysterious reasons. They all are apart of the curse. And I, Morris Jojo, do not want to be cursed. I do not want to lose my life."

Morris Jojo…

Blossom let out a deep, exhausted breath. A hand ran through her long orange hair as she processed the information.

This was why Morris was in a coma. Him had done something to him. Perhaps he was punished for not going along with his schemes. Or for leaving Townsville as Dick Hardly and Heather Boogieman had done.

Blossom immediately thought of Brick. He was going to be devastated when hearing about this.

Rose-colored eyes danced across the beach, realizing there were way too many generational connections to Him than she originally thought.

Her mom, Butch's, Brute's, Buttercup's…

Boomer's dad, Princess', Buttercup's…

Now Brick's foster dad.

She was not sure if it was pure coincidence or if Him has manipulated their lives somehow to parallel their parents in a way.

Either way, her friends… Butch… Brick… They all had to be told the truth. Two of their parents were murdered. Two physically abandoned their children, while another did it emotionally. Two were laying in bed with a demon. One was in a coma.

All of this pain inflicted onto them. All the trauma they experienced in their youth. The bizarre behaviors their parents exhibited. Regardless of what the cause and effect implemented from the choices made in the future were, after this night it all derived from one single root problem.

Him.

"Morris, if this was true, then why doesn't anyone in town know about it?"

"They do! Those who remember the sinful seven deaths of 1957, they know the truth. Those who saw the photos from Deborah Roberts' lost camera, they know. City Hall, they been covering it up, John! For decades! They have been hiding their deaths for many, many, many years! They don't want us to get scared. They don't want people to leave Townsville. They want us to stay and believe everything is fine." Morris stared into his friend's eyes like a laser. "John, if we don't leave now, everything will not be fine. It never will be again for us if we stay."

From the face Jonathan was making, Blossom could tell he was debating on whether to take Morris seriously or not. Blossom wanted to shake his shoulders and tell him that Morris was right. That if he did not leave right this moment, he was basically signing his own death wish.

After taking a few moments to process, John gave Morris a nod.

"Okay. We'll leave." His eyes went to the girls. "Let me say goodbye to Sara and Sedusa first."

"I advise that you make it quick," Morris replied, presumably agreeing to Professor Utonium's terms.

The dark-haired male took steps towards the girls who, at the same time, broke away from Caroline and Heather in favor of the cooler. Blossom went over to them likewise.

"Did you really have to be that harsh to Caroline?" Sedusa muttered to her mom.

Sara rolled her eyes, "Does it matter? She's the one making awful decisions. Who spends three years making moves to get into law school, only to throw it all away for the 'love' of her life and to start a family? Especially for that bumpkin of a husband she has." Her mom took a moment to scoff at the ridiculousness of the idea. Her eyes shifted downward to Sedusa's stomach, a cool expression on her lips. "If I was her, I would have headed straight towards the nearest abortion clinic instead."

Sedusa rubbed her temple, obvious irritation struck across her face. "I surely hope to hell you never become a parent."

"Good thing I intend not to," Blossom's mom replied sharply before opening another cherry wine cooler.

Blossom did not know what was worst. Her mom's preference in flavor of wine coolers, her treatment towards her "friends" who had different lifestyle choices, her incredibly questionable decisions when it came to men, or discovering the fact she never wanted to become a mom. It could be all four; although, to a normal person, the wine cooler would not be seen as a true equal to the other factors.

The redhead did not understand, if her mom was so adamant about not having children, how was Blossom alive today? What had possibly changed her mind? It could not have been her dad since he has never truly been in the picture to begin with. So what had it been?

"I hope I'm not interrupting," John had said when approaching the pair.

Blossom watched as her mom flashed a flirtatious smile while Sedusa seemed to avoid any eye contact with him. The hem of the vermilion top she wore was more interesting as she failed to stop it from sliding upward to her protruding belly button.

"Of course not," Sara purred. "In fact, I was hoping we could have a chance to speak privately later tonight?"

"I would love to b—"

"Great," her mom smirked.

Her fingers danced along Professor Utonium's shoulder as she moved pass him. She gave him a wink before turning around and joining the three males by the shoreline without hearing the rest of his sentence.

John hesitantly glanced at Sedusa with a confused expression as the dark-haired girl let out a long sigh.

"She's trying to sleep with you tonight," Sedusa said flatly.

"She–Whoa, what? Why–With me?" John pointed at himself. His eyes were bugging out of his head uncontrollably. "I don't… Um…Doesn't she know..."

Sedusa narrowed her eyes. It was not at John. No, it was clearly towards the curly-haired ginger.

"She knows about what happened."

"Then, um… why would she want me?"

"Most will think it's because she 'had' a thing for you since high school, but if you truly know her, you'll know it's because she likes to be the first at everything."

John blinked at her in response. His mouth hung low in shock until he realized what Sedusa may have implied. His jaw tightened together as he swallowed harshly.

"There's, um, there's a competition–" He strung together his words skeptically. His head was tilted to a degree, not believing any words he was saying. "For me? Me of all people? Why?" He exaggerated the final question loudly.

Sedusa kicked at the pebbles on the beach. She, once again, was unable to meet his eyes.

"You know that Sara and I have been 'best' friends since we were children despite our two year age difference, right?" Professor Utonium nodded. His perplexed state remained unbroken. "Well, over the years I would think I have a pretty good grasp on how she is as a person. She's educated yet conniving. Well-mannered but has no regard for anyone except herself. Knows how to work a room and does it intimidatingly well. Men too. She could have a person eating out of the palms of her hands after one conversation. That's how good she is at communicating and working people. But most importantly, I've come to notice whatever I may want, Sara sees it as a contest between us. And she always comes out the better half."

Jonathan swallowed harshly again. He lowered his chin. His eyes trying it's best not to gaze down at the growing bump of her stomach. "But if this was a competition, you… We…"

Sedusa hugged herself in comfort. "Sara is relentless. Knowing we hooked up once… it made her even more crazed with the idea of making you fall in love with her… just as much as I am with you…"

"You're… you're in love with me?" He breathed lowly in disbelief. "I'm just some nerd and you're…" Sedusa finally met his eyes, arching an eyebrow. "You're... you," John finished nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't know why, okay? All I know is that you're the nicest and most respectable guy in Townsville. You've always been interested in what I have to say, even when most of my conversations consist of hairdressing and makeup. And you… You've never looked at me as if I was a slab of meat like most guys do or simply Sara Bellum's friend. I don't why you would since everyone else does, but you do and I can't help noticing it..."

"How do you—Why didn't you say this when we… you know?""

"Because I didn't want us to start out how we did," Sedusa confessed despondently. Her head hung low in shame. "I didn't want to be the slut everyone thinks I am. More importantly, I didn't want to be my mother and trap a guy into being with me."

"Trap?" John repeated. His charcoal eyes went down to her swollen belly. "That would mean…" he murmured to himself. He took a step closer to her. His hands went to grip her shoulders but he thought against it at the last second. Instead, John ran a hand through his fine black hair. "You told me it was someone else's. You said you didn't want to even consider the possibility of me being the father. Even afterward when I offered to help you out, you pushed me away… You lied to me, didn't you? Why did you lie to me about this?" He questioned desperately. His voice stricken with heart-wrenching pain.

Sedusa shrugged her shoulders, taking a moment to look out over the lake. There was not sense of bitterness or guilt. Instead, she just looked sad.

"I've spent most of my high school years deeply in love with you but I couldn't do anything about it because Sara was always in the way for me. And then you left for MIT and I wasn't going to admit a stupid crush to you when you had better waiting for you in Massachusetts," Sedusa began in a fragile tone. "Whenever you came home from school, those feelings I had for you would come back so strongly, that last winter I couldn't hold them back anymore. New Year's… I was going to tell you everything but instead I impulsively took the easy way out and seduced you. By the time I found out I was pregnant, you were already back at college."

Sedusa paused. Her pasty cheeks were stained with warm tears. Electric green eyes were less vibrant than ever.

"You have a future, John. I wasn't going to have you handicapped by a bimbo from high school who you had a one night stand with. And when you came back home for spring break and found out, all I could do was lie. It took all of the strength within me to do so because I wanted you to not feel forced to be with me. It was fucked up of me to do but John," Sedusa read him carefully. "Be honest with me. I'm not what you would ever want. And having a child now…" She shook her head lightly. "I'm sorry for ruining you. It wasn't my intentions…"

Blossom, despite already knowing how this story went, was hanging on by a thread waiting for him to make a move. Or to at least reassure her.

Her consumption in their interaction prevented Blossom from noticing the red haze slowly filling up the moon like wine pouring into a glass.

"Ruin me?" He whispered softly. "Sedusa, there's a reason why during spring break, I was so willing to be there for you when I found out you were pregnant. Even when you told me it wasn't mine. Part of me hoped you were wrong and it ended up being my child after all. Another also hoped that it would mean I could finally be with the girl I was so convinced was out of my league..."

Sedusa flickered her eyes up to meet his line of vision. Her thin, dark eyebrows lined together. An unreadable expression came over her face.

"You don't mean that."

He tucked a strand of her thick, wavy hair behind her ear. His thumb tenderly stroked her cheek, "I do. I mean every word. I also want you to know that, yes, my schooling is important to me. And I am going crazy from knowing in less than a month, I will have fathered a child into this world—And I will need to take some time to adjust my plans for life. But when it comes down to it, you and our baby are now my future. No matter what. You both are going to be what truly matters to me."

Sedusa folded her forehead. Her stubborn nature unwilling to give into the idea something good was happening to her.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm more sure than ever…"

With determination, he moved forward, cupping her chin and tipping it upward. In a fluid motion, he leaned down. Their lips brushed up against each other bashfully for a few seconds before John deepened it. His free hand found itself on the small of her back. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as she was standing on her tippy-toes. Her enlarged belly pressed into him without any complaints.

Both, too occupied by the moment, failed to recognize the bright light hurling straight towards the lake's beach. It was not until they heard the others scream. Not until Morris forcibly broke them apart, shoving them in opposite directions, did they know what was truly going on.

"It's the curse!" Morris shouted, pushing John in the chest. "The curse is coming! I told you we should have left! I told you—"

Morris did not get to finish his sentence as the meteor had made contact with the shoreline. A blinding white light exploded before their eyes.

Before Blossom's eyes.

It was not long before the white dimmed into darkness for her as the access to the time period began to fade away in her mind.

---

Unknown Date

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time…

"Bubs, you have to do it! Please just do it!" Blossom pleaded desperately. Her fingers were talons on the blonde's shoulders. The black and gold headband she wore stating Happy New Year was tipped forward, catching strands of her orange hair out of place. Dark mascara stained her pale cheeks. "I can fix this! Just–You just have to give me an adrenaline boost!"

Light blue eyes watched her friend unravel at the seams. Pity and sympathy reflected off of her face.

"Blossom, I can't…"

"We're not going to let her do that," Buttercup added firmly. Her arms crossed but her stare softened at the redness in Blossom's eyes.

"Look, we just lost Brick. We don't need to lose you too," Boomer whispered gently to appease the redhead.

Blossom shook her head crazily.

"Bubs, please," Blossom continued to beg, choosing to ignore Boomer's words.

Bubbles' mouth began to move in reply to her but nothing came out.

Her vision began to grow blurry. Lines and colors warping as if someone had smeared wet paints together. Bubbles vanished from her sight as did Boomer and Buttercup. Light was fading in and out; darkness was surrounding her, inching closer and closer.

The world soon became pitch black. Her mind was moving like a train breaking out of a tunnel, heading straight for the slightest sight of light...

---

November 9th

Townsville, Arizona

Present Day…

Blossom stirred. A groaned expelled from her lips as she lifted her head up from the dining table. Her hand went to massage her forehead. Rose-colored eyes squinted harshly until fully adjusting to the lighting of the room. Her mind was scratchy and lost from the unfinished vision she tapped into.

Where was it—

She jumped at the sound of a car door closing. Her eyes went to the clock on Brick's stove.

It was noon already.

She had been out for six hours…

When Brick walked into his home, a bag of takeout from Otto's in hand and his signature crooked grin, Blossom felt her heart drop to her stomach.

She had to tell him about Mojo.

He arched a perplexed eyebrow when taking notice of the deep frown she held.

"What's wrong?"

"I, um…" Blossom motioned to the seat across from her. Her voice falling right above a breezy whisper. "Perhaps it's best if you sit down first."

Brick did as such. The white paper bag full of food sat on the wood surface. His face matched the expression Blossom felt she may have, but for different reasons.

"Are you, um… you know?"

Oh god, he thought she was breaking up with him.

Blossom shook her head rapidly. "No, no, no. I, uh…" Blossom trailed off, choosing not to use the original words her mind thought of. "I really like you, Brick. That's not even a thought on my mind."

"Okay," he said hesitantly, extending the "y" sound. He reached for the food from Otto's as a distraction. A container containing cheese fries and a burger were presented to her, while Brick had a meal of a fried chicken breast with buttery mashed potatoes for himself. He also gave her a strawberry milkshake in a Styrofoam cup. "Then what's going on?"

Blossom nibbled on the tip of her French fry for a moment, discovering she did not have an appetite. Not after the devastation she had witnessed today.

"So, um, while you were gone, my powers got a hold on me and somehow I was able to travel back in time."

His eyebrows shot up. "You can do that?"

"Yeah. Apparently, I can," Blossom sighed tiredly. She combed her hands through her hair, stopping midway as her elbows were propped up on the table. "I went to each time period the blood moon ever arose over Townsville. All of them were devastating, but the group before us… Brick, more than half of our parents were involved."

Brick narrowed his eyes. He slowly chewed his food, swallowing in the same pace. "...What do you mean?"

"Buttercup's dad was not the only one of our parents to die because of Him's influence. Butch's mom did too," Blossom revealed in a shaky breath. "Then Brute's mom and Boomer's dad left their families because of Him's hold over them. Princess' dad… My mom—"

"Your mom is working with Him?" Brick questioned sharply. His hold on the utensils in his hands intensified, turning into a white-knuckle grip. The disdain he held for her mom reflected clearly off of his ruby-colored eyes. "That explains why she so keen on fucking up this town without any remorse."

Blossom took in a deep inhale, unable to meet his eyes to confirm the truth. "I know…"

Despite everything. Despite what her mom has said and done, it was hard for Blossom to make the distinctive cut to their relationship.

It should have been when she learned about her mom's affair with Bubbles' dad.

When Brick revealed her mom's sabotage and public outing of Mojo.

She should snip at the string after seeing who her mom truly was at her age.

Blossom, for the life of her, wished she could not love her mom anymore. She wished she could be like Brick and display the disgust towards her mom externally. She wished there was not a flame inside her that held onto the hope and belief her mom was not that bad. That she could be redeemable at some point if Blossom advised her correctly.

It was hard to make the dignifying cut from one's parents. No matter what, they would be a cloud looming over their child's life. Anything Blossom could do, she would end up finding another thread to her mom.

She was always going to be Sara Bellum's daughter, after all. A fact, in which, she was no longer proud of.

A fact she wished could be wiped away from her life.

"Sweetheart," Brick said gently. His momentarily expression of detesting emotions were quickly replaced by his concern for Blossom. A open hand slid across the table, presenting itself to Blossom. The redhead girl let out a small smile, her petite hand taking up the space in his wide palm. "...I'm sorry."

"I am too," Blossom murmured. The brief smile she held faltered greatly. "I… I saw Mojo when I traveled back." She felt Brick squeeze her hand in a reflex. His hand forgetting it was holding another as it continued to hold her in a tight grasp. "He was there. He was apart of the group, Brick. I'm sorry…"

Brick removed his hand from her's. It joined his other as the palms of his hands rubbed his face. He leaned back in his chair as he did this, rocking on the back two legs before flattening it back onto the ground. His hands ran through his hair, pulling harshly on his roots.

"It makes so much fucking sense now," Brick said critically to himself. "Why Mojo wanted to come back so badly. Why he had a heart attack out of nowhere. Why Him knew when and what to offer me as a deal even before the night at the lake... My whole life since coming to Townsville… it has been determined by Him. I've been his little puppet this entire time…"

"Brick—"

"Fuck!" He cursed. His fist slammed into the dining table. The contents on top of the wooden surface jumped up an inch from the action. "I caused this! Him knew I would be desperate enough to take any offer if Mojo wasn't in the picture. I should have…" He choked on his words, burrowing his face in his hands. "I could have… Fuck!"

Blossom went into autopilot, rushing over to Brick's side. She brought a chair to laid right next to his', her arms wrapped tightly around him in support. Her hand rubbed small circles into his back as he leaned into her embrace.

"You didn't know," she whispered into his ear in an attempt to ease his pain but Blossom knew there was no way to do such a thing.

Brick already harbored feelings of remorse from not being there when Mojo had his heart attack. Knowing he may have initiated Him's reasoning for tampering with Mojo's health, Brick was never going to be the same.

If Boomer was correct and Brick was in a dark place, then Blossom knew this piece of information was capable of sending him into a downward spiral.

It was capable of bringing out the worst in him.

Brick cleared his throat, restraining his sniffles quite well. He removed his hands from his face, laying them down on his lap. Blossom pulled her head back, tracing her eyes over his profile.

"I saw Him a month ago…" Brick confessed in a breath. The fingers in his lap tapped anxiously against the gray fabric of his jumpsuit. "It was not necessary for me to go but I felt compelled to tell Him that I was no longer going to aid him. Now I know why I felt such a way. He still has his claws in me." Brick pointed a finger against his head. "Somewhere in here, Him knows each and every doubt I have ever had about myself. Him knows exactly what button to push to make me feel hopeless. And that's…" He chewed down on his lip for a moment to prevent it from quivering. "That's why Mojo is practically dead."

Blossom cupped his face. Her eyes expressed the love and devotion she held for him. Seeing him heartbroken over the possibility of Him's orchestrating his life, was creating the same effect inside of her.

"There's a chance Him has been manipulating you for years now. There's a chance he has been doing the same with all of us involved. I would like to believe we have free will to do what we want, but how can we be so sure?" Blossom spoke softly. "And I know I wouldn't be able to heal your wounds. I can't say the magical words that could bring Mojo back. But I do hope that you can take comfort in knowing that Him no longer has a hold on you. Even if you think he does, I believe from the bottom of my heart, you are in charge of your destiny now. You, Brick Jojo, have the right to live your life the way you want to."

Brick gently removed her hands, settling them onto his lap. His disheartened state was showing no signs of letting up.

"But what right do I have to live when my life has ended Mojo's right?"

"I…" Blossom blinked at him in response. Her shoulders fell in defeat. "I don't have an answer for that."

Brick inhaled sharply. "I didn't expect you to…"

"I wish I could do more," she whispered.

Brick shook his head in disagreement. "Blossom, no one since Mojo has believed and cared about me like you do. I wish I could do more to show you that. I wish could do more for you."

Blossom extended her hand, moving a piece of scarlet hair out of his eyes. Her hand then slowly slid down the side of his face, caressing the slope of his jaw. The tips of her fingers were gently prickled by the small growth of hair on his face.

"You already have."

For a split second, the corner of his lip tugged upward. For a brief moment, his deep hue of red iris' displayed more than remorse and heartache. And from that small instance, Blossom held onto the hope Brick would be okay.

He would not be today; but someday, he would be.

"At least I know one thing Him hasn't engineered since he's been so adamantly against it," Brick commented, turning to meet her face on. He leaned forward, bumping his forehead against her's.

"And what would that be?" She wondered despite knowing the answer. Blossom simply wanted to hear it be spoken out loud.

"My feelings for you. What we have," he confessed bashfully. A rush of pink flooded his cheeks as he continued. "So if I truly do have the right to live my life the way I want to, the one choice I willingly make anytime is the chance to live my life with you in it."

Blossom could not suppress the radiant smile she held or the want to swoon from his words. Her thumb wiped away the last remaining wet spot on his cheek, unraveling herself more to the vulnerability of the moment between them.

"Brick, I—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Blossom was interrupted abruptly by the sound of a phone alarm. Brick sighed, digging his hand into one of the pockets of his jumpsuit to turn off the alarm.

"I have to get back to work," he sighed.

"Are you sure you're okay to go after…"

Brick nodded reluctantly. "It's not the first time I've gone to work with my head all fucked up by Him. Or when I," his voice dipped to right below a whisper. "Miss Mojo… But you know, sometimes it's better to put on a brave face..."

"You know that doesn't stop me from worrying about you," Blossom pointed out in a concerned murmur.

"You wouldn't be you if you weren't looking out for my well being," he followed.

Brick offered his hand to Blossom, which was accepted, as they both stood up. Her eyes fell back to the table, eyeing her uneaten food and the journal.

"I think I'm going to head home," she decided. "I've had a long day."

"It's only twelve-twenty, sweetheart," Brick chuckled.

"And I've had a long day already," Blossom replied. She removed her hand from his grasp, moving it up to his shoulder. Her fingers played with the short hair at the nip of his neck. "We're going to get through this, Brick. I promise."

The way he looked at her, Blossom had an understanding he wanted to disagree. His pessimism was in it's peak form at the moment. And while Blossom could not know, Brick did not dismiss her words because a part of him clung onto what they truly represented.

Blossom and her words were the last tangent of hope he had left in him. With her, Brick was not completely forlorn despite the mounting evidence as to why he should be.

Despite the feelings inside of him that wanted to give up. Not only on defeating Him but on the pursue of whatever life was supposed to be.

So instead of telling her such complicated things, Brick simply nodded.

"I believe you."

---

Blossom leaned back into her desk chair. A unsatisfied sigh was huffed out into the air. An empty container from Otto's sat next to her laptop—she made the mental to note to thank Brick for getting her lunch the next time she saw him.

She had changed out of her sleepwear when getting home. A pair of high-waisted light blue jean shorts replaced her pink fleece shorts while she had put on a bra and kept on Brick's high school gym shirt—as far as Blossom was concerned, she was going to keep this particular article of clothing for as long as she could—which was French-tucked into her shorts.

Her mom, thankfully, was not home nor has been back from work since Blossom had taken comfort in her own room. The absence of her material figure postponed the fight Blossom surely knew was approaching the both of them. Furthermore, it gave her time to carefully decide on what to say to her mom.

Was she going to outright tell her mom what she knew and believed or should she get her mom to confess her version of the truth?

The latter seemed the logical way to go about it but after the brewing negative thoughts she felt, Blossom could not be so acceptable of the idea that she would not let her emotions get the better of her. She was going to make the effort not to, but Blossom was not going to pretend it was not an option.

Nor was she going ignore the bubbling conflict within her over whether she still saw any good in her mom. She wanted there to be but what happens if there was not any?

Blossom did not have the answer for such a question. And instead of figuring it out and spending much time dwelling on her mom, she found herself more curious about what Mojo had said since she got home.

She spent most of the afternoon clicking and typing her way through the internet trying to find any ounce of information about the previous victims of Him's predatory nature. Blossom even went to the length of accessing the private server used for City Hall employees—Her mom used the same password for practically everything; Reagan, Blossom's middle name and also her mom's favorite president. Much to her expected disappointment, Blossom found nothing.

There was no words about the "sinful" seven from 1957. Nothing about a man named Lawrence being engaged to someone called Edith. Any information about a bunker resting under the depths of Lake Canem Loquentes had been wiped away from any official town records.

She did take a moment to consider it might have been hard to transfer certain non-essential documents or newspaper articles to the internet from such a great length of time ago; but then Blossom looked up Deborah Roberts. The only person she had a full name for except for the generation before her.

There was not a whole lot about her. Most of it was articles written by her that had been preserved onto the internet, most consisting of the promotion for the Black Power Movement in the Bay Area.

Then there was her death record made in the city's database. The coroner wrote it off as a suicide under suspicious circumstances.

Blossom felt the temperature in her room drop from reading the lie provided. The sound of Deborah's scream pierced through her mind over and over again.

Mojo was right. Townsville has spent the last century trying to cover up Him's path of destruction. This decision to do such a thing has caused a ripple effect for all of them.

If the town knew about the deaths, perhaps Lake Canem Loquentes would have been forbidden among the citizens way before Brat's tragic death. If her hypothetical was true, there would have been nothing to cover up. There would be no senseless violence in Him's quest for freedom. Him would not have had anyone to terrorize for eighty or sixty years. He would go back to his dimension an immense failure.

Instead, Townsville was doing exactly what Him would want. To keep more secrets. Create mistrust and fear. To make it easier for Him to prey on the native folks of the area.

Blossom wondered, if Him had been able to manipulate Brick's life even before he was chosen by the meteor, then who was to say Him has not been doing the same to the whole town? It was highly possible they did not have to be apart of the blood moon's selection to fall victim to his temptation. Maybe the shortcomings of humanity had been the exact weapon Him has been truly equipped with this whole time.

It certainly would explain why he seemed to decrease in outward aggressive tactics as time went on. The four construction workers were killed on the spot, while Him had let the others live to longer dates until proven useless. In fact, Him did not appear to be willing to get his hands—or should she say claws—dirty anymore. He preferred his "associates" to do his bidding for him more now.

Even his ability to convert regular individuals into obeying him, let Blossom know Him was advanced in the art of exploiting human flaws.

Her mom and Princess' dad were the epitome of greed and pride tied together. Blossom was sure the dangling of power was an easy bargaining tool used for them.

Same with Ace.

Berserk lacked enough empathy to care about her actions. The thought of carrying out Him's wishes were not reflective to her concerns; therefore, the orange-haired girl had no problem with the idea of them.

Or at least it seemed to be. After Brat's death, Blossom was not sure if Berserk was as aloof and receptive to Him's commands as before.

Despite her short time working for Him, Brute had agreed out of cowardliness. Her fears prevented her from truly expressing her opinion until it was too late.

Brat was simply following along with what her friends were doing. Her naive and childish form of decision-making allowed Him to know if he recruited Berserk and then Brute first, the blonde would have no objections to accepting his offer.

Brick—her sweet Brick—was manipulated into isolation. He was forced into a five year period of the returning emotions of hopelessness and heartache. His decision to accept Him's deal was a last ditch effort to capture back the last bit of trust he had in the good of the world.

Him simply feasted on the unrelenting sadness Brick held within him.

Then Butch…

Blossom was not sure what convinced Butch to be okay with Him other than Berserk. The redhead has not lost the thought of how Butch was not foolish enough to blindly be coerce into ruining humanity because of a girl. Even if he was in love with her, Blossom had a hard time believing it.

This was Butch. The same Butch who planned to attend pastry school once Him was no more. The boy who watched way too many cartoons and was able to get the most grumpiest person to crack a smile—Hell, he got Berserk, the most unfeeling person Blossom has come to know, to fall head over heels in love with him. The one who has taken care of his dad ever since the age of thirteen. Blossom could not even grasp on how Butch planned to go about annihilating the human race when he could not bare the idea of leaving Fuzzy alone for a few months.

How was he supposed to behave when his dad perished along with the other citizens of Townsville when Him broke through the gateway from his dimension?

Even when he betrayed her friends before her very own eyes. Even when Butch had physically harmed Buttercup and tried to do the same to Brick. Even when everyone wanted her to, Blossom felt deep in gut that Butch was incapable of falling for Him's tricks.

He had too much of a good heart.

Which made his actions hard for her to make sense of…

Make sense of everything…

Blossom widened her eyes at the remembrance of those very words from him. She dipped her head back, glancing out of her bedroom window. The sun was about thirty minutes away from setting.

The redhead abruptly stood up from her desk. She grabbed her car keys and wallet. Her phone pressed up against her ear as she shuffled her feet back into her sandals.

An anxious breath escaped from her lips as the other line picked up on the fourth ring.

"Buttercup, are you busy right now? There's somewhere we have to go…"

---

November 9th

Citiesville, Arizona

Present Day...

"Blossom, do you mind telling us why we're at Citiesville airport?" Buttercup questioned gruffly from the passenger seat. Her arms were folded while light green eyes narrowed at their surroundings in a suspicious manner.

Blossom had called her at the right time. Her dark-haired friend had just gotten out of work when she picked up her call. The same with Bubbles, who had the day off for once—unfortunately, Boomer was busy helping with the preparation for White Kitty's closure.

The blonde sat in Blossom's backseat. A woolly sweater dyed a bubblegum pink hugged the curves of her body as she kept her mouth closed the entire car ride.

Blossom was somewhat shocked when Bubbles agreed to come with them since the blue-eyed girl has been withdrawn as of late. The redhead, however, did not fault Bubbles for feeling such a way though.

"We're meeting up with someone," Blossom replied as she turned down the same dirt road her and Brick had taken over two months ago.

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows aggressively, "Who?"

Blossom kept her lips tight. Her rose-colored eyes focused on the green Mustang they were approaching. On to the tall, dark-haired male who was leaning against the vehicle. The amber glow of the sun settling in for the night outlined his silhouette beautifully.

She heard Buttercup's growl from the sight of Butch.

"We're meeting up with him," Blossom said after parking the car. She glanced through the rear-view mirror to find Bubbles' with her mouth agape.

"Unless we're beating him up, I don't want to hear shit he has to say," Buttercup dismissed venomously.

Blossom shrugged her shoulder, "That's fine. You can stay in my car without the AC running while I do talk to him."

"You wouldn't dare," Buttercup remarked.

The redhead removed her keys from the engine, jingling them for a moment to show Buttercup how serious she was. Blossom then unbuckled her seat belt and opened her car door. Her neck craned to meet Bubbles' eyes.

"You coming, Bubs?"

The blonde chewed down on her bottom lip. Her light blue eyes stared out at the person not involved in the conversation.

"I am," she said quietly, freeing herself from the seat belt holding her in.

"Are you sure you don't want to at least hear what he has to say?" Blossom asked Buttercup sincerely as Bubbles exited the car. The redhead felt it would be incredibly beneficial if Buttercup did entertain the idea to at least hear what Butch had to say. At least, she hopes it would be...

Buttercup's eyes grew sharp as she took a minute to make her decision. Her fingers pushed eject on her seat belt.

"You're on my shit list, Blossom," she seethed

"When aren't I?" The redhead sighed.

Buttercup grumbled incoherently under her breath as a response before stepping out of the car and making the conscious effort to slam her door.

Blossom took a moment to take in a deep inhale. To take a moment to hope this was not a mistake. That they would hear exactly what she believed.

That her gut feeling about Butch was right after all...

---

"That was…"

Blossom could not find the right words to express what she felt over the shared conversation between Butch and them. Her rose-colored eyes watched his car travel past them after parting. A million different thoughts raced through her brain as she continued to follow his red taillights in her rear-view mirror until he was longer in sight.

"I don't believe a word he had to say," Buttercup scoffed. The dim light of Blossom's car radio illuminated her face as the night sky had taken over the space.

The stubborn look she had during the entire conversation was still present. Light green eyes tried to mask over the pain she has dealt with for a month by letting her outrage shine brighter.

"Did you listen to what he said, Buttercup? He's—"

"I don't give a fuck," she said flatly, shaking her head. "Butch is never going to be able to make up for what he did. And I can't believe you're giving him the benefit of the doubt."

"I'm not—"

"You kind of are," Bubbles pitched in softly.

Blossom met her light blue eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Her shoulders fell in defeat.

"Okay, maybe I am. Is that so bad? Is it bad that I want to believe Butch is the same Butch we know and love?"

Buttercup scoffed loudly. "Yes, it is. If he can easily turn on us like he did—"

"But that was—"

"Again, I don't give a fuck, Blossom," Buttercup interjected sharply. She was fuming from the redhead's attempts of conviction. "Butch…" The dark-haired girl let out a breath to expel the trapped up agony within her. "He can't be trusted. Not then and especially now."

The sound of her car's air conditioning and the low volume of a rock ballad sung by a former boy-band member playing on the radio nullified the silence between the girls. A looming and thick tension enveloped them in the compact vehicle, hugging them until they were left breathless.

"...I think you're wrong," Blossom said lowly after a long moment.

Buttercup rolled her eyes greatly. She threw her hands up in the air to express her disdain. "Of course you do. You're the one who thought it was a fucking great idea to come out here to hear a bunch of bullshit."

"It was to help us figure out things with Him," the redhead replied in offense. "More importantly, I was hoping it would help you, Buttercup. That's why I called you."

"Alright, that's it," Buttercup remarked furiously. "Blossom, I've never asked for your help. And I never will because I'm sick and tired of your meddling. Do you ever get tired of never minding your own business? Of fucking everything up because your damn ego believes you know the answer to everything?"

Blossom leaned back into her car seat, wounded by Buttercup's words. Her mouth left agape.

Her ego?

"That was a little much, Buttercup," Bubbles said under her breath.

"Well excuse me if she never learns. Even her boyfriend knows it too."

"Leave Brick out of this," Blossom responded protectively.

"Why? You thought it was okay to bring Butch into this. To make me talk to him after everything he has done to me," Buttercup said. Her voice cracking more and more as she spoke. Her light green eyes were growing wet. "He tore my heart out of my chest and fucking stomped on it! And you thought this would provide me with closure? How dare you, Blossom? How fucking dare you?" Buttercup let out a wryly chuckle. "You've really lost sight of reality."

Blossom felt a dagger slip into her chest. The turning of the blade expelled an excruciating pain. The acknowledgment of she having lost sight of reality, as Professor Utonium had done, was eclipsing her fears. She did not want to become Professor Utonium but perhaps she was already there. Her blind need to fix has been her downfall. A fault Buttercup easily picked up on and pointed out.

"Buttercup, I'm—"

"I don't want an apology," she remarked bitterly. Bubbles extended her hand, providing it as a gesture of support on Buttercup's shoulder. "You already made it clear how you have no regard to how I feel."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. "But I'm trying to," she exasperated. "I'm trying to do what's right for everyone. I'm trying to be a good friend to you but also to Butch. I thought coming here would give you answers and help you heal. I didn't know…" Her eyes softened as a tear rolled down Buttercup's olive skin. "It's hard to keep up with you lately. What Bubbles said about you pushing all of us away, it's happening and I'm terrified about losing you." She glanced over to Bubbles who stared out at the chain-link fence in front of them through the front window of the car instead. "The both of you, actually. I know what happened on Halloween was—"

"Someone died, Blossom. Try and have some empathy," Buttercup muttered.

Blossom narrowed her eyes, "I am. I'm doing this to make sure Brat didn't die in vain. It's not like I've forgotten what happened. I never can. Not when I see her and her blank stare in my dreams every night since. Not when I have seen each and every one of the ones I love die because of Him. So maybe I haven't given myself enough time to grieve. Maybe I've become partially numb to death as time goes by. But you're not going to fault me, Buttercup. You're not going to sit here and point a finger at me. I do that enough to myself and, from doing so, I've come to terms that I need to move forward. Especially when trying to figure out a way to stop Him's endgame, has kept me from losing myself in the atrocities I've seen and felt," Blossom said steadily, even though she was not particularly sure if her last sentence was the truth.

It was more for trying to convince herself than Buttercup and Bubbles, the redhead acknowledged. It still did not calm her fears towards losing her sanity in the same manner as Professor Utonium had done.

Buttercup rolled her eyes at Blossom's words. An action caught quickly by the redhead. Blossom gritted her jaw together, pressing her nails into the skin of her palms to help her suppress the bubbling anger in her system. Deep breaths were taken into her system. She was not going to lash out.

She was not going to lose control and turn against Buttercup.

That was exactly what Him would want.

"Why are you being like this?" The pink-eyed girl asked tiredly. "Why be difficult when we need each other…" Blossom's eyes widened when the answer instantly came to her. "You're trying to push me away. You want me mad at you so it's easier for you. Aren't you?"

Buttercup avoided her eyes, glancing down at her lap.

"I rather distance myself from all of you than have to experience the full effect of losing you when the time comes," she muttered after a long pause.

"...You sound like your mom."

Buttercup's eyes shot up immediately, giving Blossom a nasty glare.

"How fucking dare you compare me to her?" She seethed.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. How you've both have been handling Him, it's quite similar," the redhead said neutrally. "You both cope the same way."

There was a silence entrapping them. Green and pink eyes dueled each other, waiting for one to apologize. One to snap. Or for one to have a breakdown.

Buttercup shut her eyes for a moment, counting quietly to herself to calm down. She huffed out a breath of hot air, bringing her tone down to a respectful manner instead of the harsh one she has held the entire time.

"There's no way to come back from this," she mumbled, avoiding Blossom's all too accurate accusation. "I told you at school to drop it but you never do. Do you need another one of us to die for you to understand there's zero chances of us winning?"

"No—"

"We had a talk," Bubbles interrupted softly. Her hand was back in her lap. The tips of her fingers were rubbing away the frost growing under her nails. A habit the blonde has picked up since acquiring her powers. "Me, Buttercup, and Boomer. We all decided it's time for us to give up. What happened to Brat…"

Blossom hugged herself, rubbing her arms to warm herself. Her breath was visible in the air as was Buttercup's. The windows of the car were gathering thin layers of ice from the inside. The dark-haired girl turned on the car's heater to combat Bubbles' passage of bone-chilling air.

"It was devastating enough. If that happened to one of you…" Light blue eyes glazed over from the imagined horror in her head. She shook her head lightly, waning the control her dark thoughts had over her. "I don't want to experience it. And the longer we keep engaging with Him, the more likely it's going to happen. So the three of us think it's better if we went out like the rest of the world in one big, catastrophic event than go through the torture Him may cause to all of us."

Blossom blinked at Bubbles and then Buttercup.

Like her classmates, a part of her wanted to envy them. How they could be able to forget the tragedies of the past with each new time loop and mind swipe while Blossom was unable to control the replaying of such. Of how they could properly mourn while the redhead felt she was going to become the worst version of herself if she allowed such a thing to occur.

But unlike the conviction she held during her class period of needing to move forward and save everyone, Blossom felt herself slowly become less encouraged. The sparks of hope within her were starting to burn out from the horrors of the past and a lack of mutual aspirations from her friends for a better future.

She was teetering off of the edge of becoming Him's dream while they had no clue about what the inter-dimensional demon truly wanted from them.

Blossom wished she could be ignorant like them. She wished she could make the easy decision to give up.

Yet, Blossom could not sit idly by. Not when the fate of the Earth rested on their hands. Which brought about the part of her that was saddened by her friends' valid but ultimately selfish decision.

"You all made up your minds already," she said slowly. "How could you just give up? Don't you care about saving everyone? To live your lives the way we should?"

"Because we're being realistic, Bloss," Buttercup said. Her hand ran through her short, black hair. "It took me awhile to realize this but I was actually happy before all of this," she confessed frailly.

Her voice was scratching greatly from the grains of emotions caught in her throat. She swallowed a hard lump before continuing.

"Sure, my dad is dead and I was stuck working a brainless job, but my life had everything I needed. Friends who I care immensely about and who feel the same way about me. A roof over my head and a chance at a higher education. No threats of a demon who wants to prey on my life and my friends'. No powers or stupid side effects to worry about. A boy who treated me like I was the most fascinating thing in the world. Someone who made me excited about life again after my dad passed. Now… now I just feel empty." Bloodshot light green eyes narrowed at Blossom. "And I could fantasize about the past or dream of an unattainable future, but instead I want to live in the few moments of happiness I may have left until Him takes over. I," she nudged her shoulder in Bubbles' direction. "We are choosing to enjoy the present. That's the part you can never understand. You never want to be in the moment and that's why we didn't include you in our decision."

"I…" Blossom trailed off as she was left speechless.

What was she supposed to say?

Buttercup's confession had gutted her into pieces, leading her to second guess everything in an instant.

They had every right to the decision they had made. More so, there was a chance they were right.

Blossom, more out of all of them, has seen the terror Him was capable of.

The manipulation. The gorier. The chaos…

Her questions towards the purpose of the time loop seemed to solidify the rational behavior made between her three friends. If her visions have shown Him to have the edge over them each and every time, then they were correct.

Perhaps, they were not destined to defeat Him. Maybe their destiny was to be the reason Him was set free and there was no use in avoiding their fate anymore.

Blossom was lost. She was able to finally admit it to herself that she had nothing left to turn to. No new lead. No plan or vision to use to their advantage.

All she had was the one thing she has avoided the most: the present.

"Can you take us home now, please?" Bubbles inquired gently after another long period of silence.

Blossom, again, had nothing to say. Her mind too stunned and overloaded on what was right or wrong. On whether the notion to let go of Him to enjoy the month and a half they left was her best option.

So instead, the redhead nodded. Her hands gripped firmly on the steering wheel.

"Okay…"

---

November 9th

Townsville, Arizona

Present Day…

The drive back to her house was a blank one. Her mind had been empty from the moment Bubbles requested to go home to her pulling up into her driveway.

Nothing made sense to Blossom anymore. The moment she felt as if she was making gains in defeating Him, it all came tumbling back down.

Not since Henry has the redhead felt so defeated and exhausted.

She needed sleep. Desperately.

Anything to give her a momentarily freedom from the life she was living. Even if it was for a few hours as she has been cursed with since Him's unwanted arrival into her reality, Blossom wanted and needed sleep.

Those thoughts, however, were dropped the moment she entered her home.

"Blossom," her mom called out from in the kitchen. "Come to the nook. We have somethings to discuss."

Blossom closed her eyes, leaning back against the door in regret. She had failed to mentally register the other car in the driveway when she pulled up.

The conversation she has been dreading was here.

The talk, in which, the redhead was firmly in the belief would forever change her relationship with her mother.

She took slow steps into her kitchen and to the back table in their breakfast nook. A light overhead kept the room illuminated, contrasting with the darkness invited in by the long, wide windows in the space. Her mom's laptop sat on the circular table filling up the corner. A cup of tea sat next to it. Steam from the hot liquid was traveling up in the air still.

Her mom narrowed her eyes, taking much notice to the shirt Blossom was wearing as the younger redhead took a seat.

"South Townsville High," her mom read off. "I wonder where you would have gotten such a novelty tee-shirt like that."

"A friend," Blossom responded tightly.

An eyebrow arched at her, meeting her mom's hairline. The reality of her age was expressed more easily by the lines of her forehead when she did such an expression.

"And would this friend be Brick Jojo?"

"Is there a problem if it is?" she rebuttal. Her skull was beginning to pound greatly from the tension she has withheld from all of the events of the day. Another migraine for her to enjoy in misery.

Her mom's plump lips pursed together for a moment before giving Blossom an answer.

"Yes, there is."

"Why? Brick is a good guy. I don't—"

"I know you're seeing him, Blossom."

Blossom's mouth closed. Her back leaned into the wicker back of the chair she sat in.

In the past, Blossom had been completely honest with her mom about everything. Her first crush, her first kiss, the first time she tried alcohol, or what happened at a party she attended; she told her mom within twenty-four hours of such events. Her mom had done the same in a way, telling Blossom the truth about her relationship with her dad when Blossom was old enough to get it. There was no secrets between them—or at least, she used to believe there was none.

Blossom liked to see the good in people. The potential they have to do better. But the longer she held her breath waiting for her mom to do more, to become someone else, the sinking feeling of her enabling her mom would take over.

Since coming back to Townsville, Blossom has felt herself grow more tiresome of her mom. Antics she used to ignore or let slid have began to pile up into more and more grievances. She has given her mom way too many chances.

Chances she should have never given to anyone, no matter their relation to her.

"Okay then…"

Her mom let out an exaggerated sigh. A hand went to her forehead as she shook her head in disappointment.

"Honestly, Blossom, I don't know why you're wasting your time with a hick like him—"

Blossom narrowed her eyes. Her face twisted up in defensive outrage.

"Excuse me?"

"He's only going to bring you down, honey," her mom retorted in a particularly obvious, condescending tone. "Why would you slum yourself down for a high school dropout, grease monkey like him?"

"Slum myself down?" Blossom repeated, followed by a humorless chuckle. "If anything, I feel like I'm a better version of myself when I'm with him." She tilted her head to a degree, an eyebrow arched, "I'm in love with him, mom–"

"Oh, god," her mom muttered under her breath in disdain.

"There's nothing you can say or do that would change how I feel about him. More so, I'm not going to let you dictate who I should be able to see, given your history of romantic choices."

Her mom turned up her nose at the comment, not picking up on what Blossom was implying.

The younger redhead let out a heavy breath, staring down at the fine wood grains of their table.

"... I know you've been messing around with Anthony Keane…"

Blossom waited for her mom to reply. For her to deny it. Or apologize for her actions. Something to give Blossom some sense of morality from her mom; whether it be good or bad.

Instead, when her rose-colored eyes finally glanced up, she found her mom in a blank stare. Her lips pressed together; eyebrows drawn in a straight line. The tips of her nails clicked against the mouse of her laptop.

"That…" Blossom watched as her mom swallowed nervously. It was the first time the redhead has ever seen her mom sweat under pressure. "That does not concern you."

"It doesn't concern me?" Blossom questioned, flabbergasted by her mother's notion. "You're breaking apart one of my best friends' parents' marriage."

"That marriage was over a long time ago," her mom said sharply.

"That doesn't make it okay, mom!"

Her mom rubbed a hand across her face, letting out an exhausted groan.

"Yes, I know. Does that change what has happened? No..." She narrowed her eyes at her daughter. A finger was wagged aggressively in her direction too. "Blossom, I don't know what's gotten into you. I'm the adult here. So your opinion is not necessary nor do you even have any authority to discuss my life choices. Furthermore, I'm not going to tolerate this disrespect from you, little girl," her mom said venomously.

Blossom took a moment to see her mom. To finally see how vile of a person she was.

Her childhood nostalgia and belief in the good has left her so defenseless against the one who gave birth to her for so long. She had believed their relationship has been on an even playing field but, now, her mom has made it clear what she truly thought of Blossom.

She was a child to her. A little girl. Too naive and capable of being easily manipulated.

Blossom had flashbacks to unpleasant memories of Henry as she felt sick to her stomach. The further the conversation went on, the more Blossom had decided to not hold back.

To show her mom just how much she has grown up. That she was not a little girl anymore. She was her own person now.

"You're the one who wanted to have a conversation," Blossom remarked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes. To discuss your irresponsible use of your time here." The redhead let out a bitter laugh as her mom continued. "You've lost sight of your future, Blossom."

"Have I? Or have I lost sight of what you want my future to be?" The redhead countered. "You know, since you've basically been using me to live out the dream you weren't able to achieve. To get out of Townsville without any chances of coming back."

"I–You… That is not true," her mom said firmly after stumbling in her wording.

"It is," Blossom nodded harshly. "You didn't want to become your mom. You didn't want to become a housewife. And yeah, sure, you didn't get the ring but you sure did get the child to take care of. The one you never truly ever wanted..."

"Blossom, that's—"

"I'm sick of all the lies, mom," Blossom said defiantly. "I've let it slide for too long."

Her mom blinked at her. It was almost as if she was unable to believe Blossom's hostility. Her eyes reflected off the thoughts attempting to string together a reason for why her daughter was behaving such a way.

When she was not able to find any, her mom's face flashed with hot anger.

"You want to take low blows, honey? Fine. Do whatever makes you happy now. But thanks to your actions, your ass is going to be on the next flight back to MIT," her mom fumed. "You can forget about your little friend group or your 'mental break'. More importantly, you will never see that Jojo boy ever again."

"I'm not going back to MIT," Blossom responded flatly.

Her mom rolled her eyes, "Oh Blossom, drop this little hissy fit already. You will do as your told. In fact…" Her mom paused, typing furiously on the keyboard of her computer. "I'm buying you a plane ticket right this instant."

"Mom, don't—"

"It's too late, I've had enough—"

"I dropped out of MIT!" Blossom blurted out.

The adrenaline within her, created by her sudden revelation, throbbed against her skull. Her blood pressure pulsated throughout with great intensity. The rush of a long kept secret being exposed, had peaked and climaxed in one short swing. Her high produced by the rush of adrenaline frizzed out quickly; leaving Blossom with prickly hot skin formed out of embarrassment, a severe migraine in which distorted her vision a little, and a shell-shocked parent.

"You–you what? Her mom stuttered.

Blossom pursed her lips, taking in a calming breath. The feeling of some of the weight on her shoulders had been lifted, making it easier to push through and make complete peace with what had happened.

For her to ultimately forgive herself after months of still wondering what it would have been like if she did not go to MIT in the first place or if she never met Henry. There was nothing she could do to prevent any of her mistakes made a year ago and for once, Blossom did not want to.

Finally telling her mom had brought her to the final stage of acceptance in her grief over MIT.

"I dropped out," Blossom repeated casually. She gathered up her long orange hair, bunching it all together to style it into a topknot. "I got mixed up with this guy and he used me for a paper I wrote. Next thing I know, I was caught for academic dishonesty. Instead of letting him take the fall, I did. The deans then allowed me to drop out instead of expulsion." Rose-colored eyes traced over her mom, finding the elder redhead paralyzed by her description of past events. "I can't ever go back to MIT and I'm fine with that. I've been taking night classes at the community college here and I'm content to be there for awhile."

"I can't…" Her mom rubbed her temples in vigorous circles. "Blossom… how could you have been so stupid?"

"For what? For deciding not to ruin someone's life because of a decision I had naively made? I'm not like you, mom. I don't take delight in destroying others for sport."

"No! For throwing away an opportunity of an education at one of the finest institutes in the country—"

"There's other schools—"

"And destroying others for sport?" Her mom echoed. "Who do you exactly think I am, Blossom?"

Blossom paused for a moment.

She took in her mother's expression. The reflection of frustration and… Pain? Regret? Disappointment?

Blossom was not sure what the second emotion truly was. All she knew was, this was the first time her mom has looked at her in such a manner. It was the first time Blossom has felt as if she had let her mom down.

And it was the singular time Blossom had no stirring amount of guilt from upsetting someone. For speaking her mind instead of reminding diplomatic.

For letting herself be the wildcard instead of the leader.

"Not the person I grew up knowing," Blossom answered after a beat, her head shaking lightly. "I turned a blind eye for too long and after today, I finally know the truth. And when I say I know the truth," the younger redhead leaned forward, staring into the eyes of the one who birthed her with such intensity, her mom had to look away. "I know everything."

"Blossom, I think it's best—"

"I know about Him," Blossom interjected coolly. Her face kept up a neutral expression as her mom appeared to have seen a ghost. Or an inter-dimensional demon bent on the destruction of the world, if Blossom wanted to be literal. "I know about your involvement. I know you have been using City Hall budgeting to create a disarray for the town's economics. I know you've allowed the Gangreen Gang to integrate into Townsville without any alert or action made to stop them. I know you probably are messing around with Anthony Keane out of the pure sinful mess it will cause in time. I know City Hall has kept the truth about Him from the public for decades and I'm sure you've continued such a trend. I know you have been Him's puppet for the past twenty years. And I know you outed and ruined Morris Jojo's life because of it—"

"You need to stop, Blossom," her mom interrupted over her.

Her mahogany eyes were in full panic, dancing across the room sporadically. She was fearful of Him making an appearance, Blossom concluded to herself. The younger redhead figured Him must be watching over their conversation but she believed he would not intervene. Not when a fractured relationship between them would simply add to the ever-developing chaos circling around Townsville.

"Let me ask you this," Blossom said lowly, displaying no amount of fright. "What truly happened to Morris Jojo?"

"I can't…" her mom trailed off. A trembling hand scratched her neck nervously. The perfectly manicured image her mom has maintained for years was swiftly coming undone in a matter of seconds. "I'm not allowed to disclose such matters. Not when…" her eyes glanced up to the ceiling. To the sky. To whatever plane of existence Him was taking up in their reality. "What happened to Morris… It has been done and there's nothing that can be fixed."

Blossom blinked at her in response. She gave her a single nod, not feeling blindsided by her mom's response. It was predictable.

Predictable yet still unfathomably disappointing.

But what crossed her mind next, was not.

"...You were the one to encourage the mayor to agree to Professor Utonium's power boxes," she said slowly as the thought came to her quickly. "You saw the blueprints. You knew about the kill-switch to stop an overload of power." Blossom shook her head in disapproval at the realization of her mom being the direct cause of two innocent individuals' lives. For her being the reason Professor Utonium may have been driven mad before his death. "You're responsible for fourth deaths, aren't you?"

"I can't... This is not the time nor place..." Her mom swallowed again. Mahogany eyes appeared glassy as her mom was losing herself in the paranoia of Him making an appearance. "You need to stop..."

The redhead rose from her chair. Her fists clenched together. Rose-colored eyes burned from the displeasure she felt for her mom. From her decisions and her inability to take ownership of them. From her concern being more based on her fears and her heartless jaded answers.

From the lack of regret she expressed.

"I don't know how we're related," Blossom muttered harshly under her breath before making a quick dash up to her room.

Blossom made sure to lock her door as she felt her mom would soon follow her footsteps. The redhead looked around her room, taking in every inch. The feeling of claustrophobia was consuming her the larger she stood there.

The longer she was trapped in this house with her mom and her lies.

Blossom went to her closet. She pulled out a cardinal red duffel bag she purchased before leaving to MIT from underneath a pile of shoes.

"Blossom! Blossom, open the door!" Her mother demanded as she turned the doorknob rapidly with no success. The palm of her hand banged on the door with no signs of relenting.

The sound of her mother's knocking against the wooden frame of the door echoed in her room as Blossom ransacked her drawers, stuffing pieces of clothing and footwear into the bag. In her bathroom, Blossom grabbed her toothbrush, mouthwash, her makeup bag along with lotions and exfoliators, her shampoo and conditioner, a razor, her perfume, and her comb. Once satisfied with packing half of her wardrobe and toiletries, she unhooked both her phone and laptop chargers from their respective outlets, placing the computer and the cords on top of the mixture of fabrics in the narrow bag. She then grabbed her wallet and the translated journal from Buttercup's dad, sliding them down the side of the bag on the inside. In a heavy breath, she zipped up the bag, taking on the great weight of it onto her left shoulder.

She wrapped her lanyard containing her car keys around her wrist. The same hand went to her door handle as she hesitated to open the door. With a deep inhale and exhale, Blossom turned the doorknob, meeting the deranged appearance her mom held.

"Blossom, you are—" Her mom paused, her eyes catching sight of the duffel bag's strap on Blossom's shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Leaving," Blossom murmured. "I can't be here anymore. Not when I know who you truly are."

"Yeah, right," her mom snorted sarcastically. The pointed toe of her heel thumped against the hardwood floors of the hallway menacingly. "Where exactly do you think you can go—"

"That doesn't matter," the redhead dismissed, moving pass her mom to make her way down the stairs. The sound of the click-clacking of heels trailed behind her. Blossom turned sharply, meeting her mom's eyes as she got a hold of the front doorknob. "And don't bother looking for me or convincing me to come back home. If you do, I'll tell everyone the truth about you."

Her mom shook her head in disbelief, "You wouldn't..."

Blossom nodded somberly, "It's a promise."

"Blossom, don't—"

The redhead did not bother to listen as she was already out the door by the time her mom tried to appease her. She rushed over to her car, unlocking the doors and throwing the duffel bag in the back seat. Blossom quickly got into the driver's seat, reversing her car out of the driveway while still trying to buckle her seat belt. In a quick glance, she saw her mom out in their lawn trying to race to the car window before Blossom drove way but it was too late.

Blossom hit the gas with no second thoughts. Her mom becoming an insignificant orange dot in her mirrors in the matter of seconds.

Once at a good distance away from her home, Blossom pulled over to the side of the road, grabbing her phone from her back pocket. Her fingers went into autopilot when scrolling through her list of contacts. She pressed the device up against her ear, waiting for the other person to pick up.

They did after the second ring.

"Hey," Blossom greeted. Her voice was raw from all of the arguing and the emotional roller coaster of a day she experienced.

"Blossom, hey…"

Even when Blossom felt her entire world having been shaken over the period of less than twenty four hours, the sound of Brick's voice has yet to fail at bringing a smile to her face. It was for that reason why she called him. She needed a moment to breathe before figuring out a new living situation for herself.

"Shouldn't you be in class right now?"

Blossom grimaced at the reminder and for the fact she had forgotten to take her textbooks with her. There was no way she was going to turn around and retrieve them.

"Yeah, I should… I just…" the redhead sighed into the receiver. "I just got into a major fight with my mom and I stormed out with no real plan in mind. I—"

"Do you have a place to stay?" He asked. His voice full of concern in which made Blossom's chest flutter.

"I was going to ask Bubbles but that's a whole other story from today," she mumbled dejectedly.

"Then come stay with me for the night," Brick said immediately after.

Blossom arched an eyebrow despite Brick not being able to see her. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

She heard him let out a huff of air as if it was ridiculous for her to even think such a thing. "Yes, I'm sure. Now get over here before anything more happens to you."

Blossom did not have much to say in return other than an okay and how long it would take for her to be at his house.

---

Blossom ran a comb through her damp hair. The droplets from the hot shower she had taken sprinkled all over the counter-top of Brick's bathroom. A few strands of long orange hair collected in the sink from the motions of the plastic comb pulling on her hair. The mirror in front of her was still foggy from the steam of the water, revealing a hazy image of Blossom and the cream-colored tiles of the room behind her.

When she arrived, Blossom avoided discussing what had happened. Her mind was still fried from the day and she wanted a moment to not think about Him or Buttercup and Bubbles or her mom.

Brick did not put up a fight with her decision. Instead, he asked if she had eaten dinner. With her answer being a no, Brick had put together a plate of red beans and rice he had leftover from dinner that night to give to her. Once she stomached at least a quarter of the meal and managed to carry on a light conversation with Brick, Blossom had decided to take a shower to wash away the events of the day.

Blossom placed her comb down on the counter. Her hands went to clean the surface, making sure it was left in the same pristine state it was in before she rolled in. Once done, she gave herself one last glance in the mirror when she was finished. Her eyes traced over the exhausted expression her face held. Dark circles have become an accessory she could not escape from again.

Blossom turned on the faucet of the sink, splashing cold water onto her face to wake herself up. Not from her physical tiredness but from the intruding negative thoughts trying to suppress her. She dabbed her face with the fabric of her towel. A forced smile reflected off the mirror.

If she forced it, then perhaps it would eventually become real. At least that would keep her at bay for the night…

She exited the bathroom. Her hair leaving a large wet stain on the upper back of her cotton nightgown. The blush pink fabric complimented her pasty skin and, thankfully, was designed with a built-in bra.

That matter, however, did not stop Blossom from getting flustered when Brick paused in whatever he was doing on the other side of the couch with a pillow in his hand. A subtle crooked grin formed on his lips as his eyes traveled down from her face to her exposed legs as the gown stopped mid-thigh and then back to meet her eyes. As she did not need to worry about a bra, Blossom was starting to realize the sweetheart neckline and thin straps of the clothing did not leave much to imagine as she would have hoped.

Blossom was sure her face and neck matched the same hue of her nightgown. Perhaps it was even darker than the piece of clothing.

"Please ignore me," she mumbled, darting her eyes to anything but him.

Blossom heard him let out a chuckle. "Alright, alright…"

After taking in a calming breath, she glanced over at him once again, finding that he had been setting up a temporary bed on the couch—which turned out to be a pull out couch. A gentle, appreciative smile tugged on her lips as she made her way over to him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, her head resting in the grove between his shoulder blades.

"Thank you for making me a bed," she said softly. "And for letting me stay the night."

Brick turned around, facing her. Blossom moved her arms, loosely hanging them from his neck. "This was for me. I was going to let you have my room."

"What? No." Blossom shook her head. "I'm already intruding enough—"

"You're not," Brick interjected calmly, his hands taking shape in the soft curves of her hips. "Trust me. If you were, I would have no problem telling you."

"But I don't want you sacrificing your bed for me."

Brick shrugged his shoulders, smoothly dropping his hands to settle on the small of her back. "It's just a bed."

"Still." Blossom pursed her lips. She unhooked a hand from his neck, dipping it down to run along his left bicep. Her mouth moving faster than her thoughts. "We could just sleep in your bed together."

Brick arched an eyebrow, "Are you... um... Are you, uh, okay with that?" His asked awkwardly.

"I, um…" She took a moment to consider the question before nodding slowly. Her rose-colored eyes growing bright and warm when staring into Brick's. "Yeah. I am, actually. Are you?"

A dazzling smile capable of lighting up any room gradually overcame him, replacing his uneasy nature. "Yeah. I don't see any problems with it."

"Great."

"Indeed," he replied in a light manner. His eyes shifted over to the couch. "I'm going to fix that first. I'll meet you in my room in a few."

"Okay," Blossom grinned, pecking his lips sweetly.

She went to his bedroom door, giving him one last glance and smile before entering the space.

In the couple of months they have been seeing each other, Blossom has never gone into Brick's bedroom nor has she expressed any interest in doing so. Two reason were quick to jump out to her as to why: one, Brick was a notoriously private person and she did not want to cross any lines; two, she was not ready for the atmosphere it could create between them.

Now here she was. In the room of the man she loves.

Her eyes absorbed the space, taking in each and every aspect.

Unlike the majority of his home in which the walls were lined in dark wood paneling, his bedroom room was covered in a striped wallpaper, shifting from a sage hue to hunter green. A short but wide dresser was placed next to the door. Six drawers were neatly closed and there was nothing on top of the dresser's surface except for Brick's go-to red hat and a lamp in which was the only source of light in the room. A king-sized bed—along with the two nightstands on each side—took up most of the space in the room. The mattress was covered by a thin chocolate-colored quilt instead of a plush comforter. His closet was diagonally from the bed, closed off by two dark wooden doors. Two large bookcases could be found pushed up against the wall across from the door.

Blossom went over to check out the contents of the shelves. Her finger ran down the spines of several books as she read off the titles.

Siddhartha, The Republic, The Art of War, The Prince, Beyond Good and Evil, Critique of Pure Thought...

She stopped at the work of Responsibility and the Sentiments. Her nails dug behind the small space of the book's spine not attached to the pages, pulling the book out of the neat line it existed in along with the other books on the shelf. She flipped open the book as she occupied a space at the foot of Brick's bed.

Blossom was about four pages into the book when Brick came into the room, the same pillow from before in hand as he shut the door behind him.

A smile easily danced across her lips as she glanced up at him, closing the book in the process and sliding it over onto the nightstand closest to her.

"I didn't know you were into philosophy books."

Brick, who had tossed the spare pillow back onto his bed and was opening his closet, threw a look over his shoulder to her, "I'm not really into them. They're all Mojo's…"

"Oh."

Blossom felt the air shift for a moment. It reminded her of the time when she was in Florida. When the air there was so humid and dense, it was impossible not to feel uncomfortable. The pressure would sink into her lungs, making her breathless within seconds.

"I don't know why he was into them so much," Brick replied after a beat to avoid the awkwardness settling in between them. He did not convey the same upset nature he held earlier in the day, but Blossom knew Brick wanted to keep the talk about Mojo to a minimum if he could before it brought him dangerously low again. "I tried reading some stuff from Aristotle and I honestly hated every second of it," he shrugged.

"What? The guy who used to work for a demon isn't fond of reading about morals and ethics? Is that supposed to be surprising?" Blossom quipped with a playful grin.

Brick groaned dramatically, "Please don't."

Blossom let out a small laugh, "Fine, fine. I'll keep my A-plus humor to myself."

"Right," Brick said sarcastically. A lighthearted grin tugged at the corner of his mouth subtlety.

He turned back to face his closet, stripping himself from the ivory tee-shirt he wore. Blossom averted her gaze for a second, a familiar heat coming to her cheeks. She tried her best to keep her eyes from sneaking another peek at him but Blossom failed miserably.

Her jaw fell an inch as her skin became inflamed by a prickly warmth. She had glanced over when Brick had finished taking off the sweatpants he was wearing, leaving himself in a pair of black boxer-briefs. The tight material hugged a quarter of his well-shaped thighs. His bulge was…

Blossom had to look away as she wiped the sweat of her palms onto the soft material of her nightgown.

"What—" Brick began to say when he took notice to her flustered state, in which allowed the realization to hit him. His hands instinctively went to form a fig leaf to cover his crotch. "Perhaps I should have mentioned that I was planning on sleeping in my underwear?"

"Yeah, maybe so," she said quickly, still not able to fully meet his eyes.

"Would you feel better if I put some shorts on?"

Blossom let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing from the tension she was building up inside of herself from being easily rattled. Her line of vision slowly but surely matching his.

She had to keep his powers and side effect in mind when thinking over the question.

"Not if it makes you feel uncomfortable to sleep in."

"Well, I am about fifteen degrees warmer than the average human and more clothing can become unbearable so I usually sleep naked," he thought out loud while Blossom's eyes bugged out from the image his words brought to her mind. She may have glanced down at his thinly covered package again. Her curious mind getting the best of her. Why, oh, why did he have this effect on her? "But I don't—"

"Then I'm okay with it," Blossom stated hastily, more so to herself than him. Embarrassingly red and all, she was going to get better at becoming more confident with herself and learning to trust someone else in intimate situations.

"Are you sure?"

Blossom took a moment before nodding. She patted the bedding next to her. "Yes. Now come and lay down already."

"So demanding," Brick teased as he made his way over to the vacant left side of the bed and took up half of it. His tall frame almost filled the entire length of the mattress.

Blossom playfully rolled her eyes, taking up the space beside him. She pressed her weight on her knees as she kneeled into the firm bed. Her flushed nature was slowly draining from her system. Rose-colored eyes fluttered lovingly at him, still a bit shocked she was okay with sleeping over her boyfriend's house; furthermore, in the same bed as him while they both barely wore much clothing.

Her issues with the thought of physical intimacy were slowly peeling away the more she was with Brick, and Blossom was silently pleased with herself for the fact. More so, she was gratefully to be with Brick who was more understanding than she could have ever thought for a person.

"Is that a bad thing?" She whispered lowly, leaning closer to him.

A corner of his mouth turned upward. Ruby-colored eyes fell to her lips and then back to her eyes. "I may have grown to be fond of it."

It did not take long for her lips to crash into his. Her arms enveloped his neck, pulling him closer to her. The heat of his skin burned her into a soothing fire. His hands found themselves in the subtle curve of her hips; his fingers digging into the soft, cotton fabric of her nightgown. The breaths in between their kisses were quick and heavy as they grew more starved even with the smallest pull away.

Her body took control over her as she crawled into his lap and straddled him. Her fingers wrapped and tugged on the short ends of his hair. Brick subtlety slouched down, his back laying flat against his bed with Blossom lowering down with him.

Blossom has never truly been drunk before but she has been buzzed once. Kissing Brick was like that one singular time. Her mind was foggy and slow but she felt invincibly happy and warm. As if there was nothing in the world in which could stop her. A true high she had no trouble craving.

She freed a hand from his hair, slowly dragging it down from his shoulder to his chest with a gentle touch. An ember within her began to spark, spreading like a wildfire through her veins. It was a feeling Blossom had experienced maybe once or twice. One she has not felt since MIT.

Because of this, her mind swiftly regained control. The panic button was pressed repeatedly; the brakes to her brief longing were stomped down on harshly.

Her brain then became acutely aware to one of the straps to her nightgown having slipped down her shoulder as she pulled back. The palms of her hands pressed into the mattress as she leaned into them to push herself to sit up. Her thighs, however, remained parted by Brick's torso.

Brick arched an eyebrow at her. His eyes tried to read what was wrong. They soon found themselves following Blossom's. Her rose-colored eyes happened to be fixated on the one loose strap hanging down her upper arm.

Two of Brick's fingers went to the strap, sliding it back onto her slim shoulder before tucking a strand of orange hair behind her ear. Blossom had sat silently as he did this. Her gaze watched him with astonishment.

It was such a simple and gentle action. A touch in which had the capable of making Blossom cry if she had the energy to do so. One gesture that meant more to her than anyone could truly understand.

"...I'm sorry," Blossom murmured after a long, quiet moment.

Brick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I… I feel bad," she sighed. "You're my boyfriend yet I can't handle the strap of my nightgown falling when things get a little physical between us... You deserve more than this."

"You shouldn't have to pressure yourself nor feel obligated to be more physical because of me."

"Yeah but…" her voice grew lower than before. "Don't you want to, you know?" Brick chuckled lightly at her innocent choice not to use the word sex. "Aren't I being a tease?"

Brick narrowed his eyes at her for a second. Not out of spite or anger but to see her more proper. To decipher the truth behind her words.

"Henry really messed you up, sweetheart," he said softly.

Blossom's eyes fell down to Brick's chest. "I know," she breathed.

Brick cupped both sides of her face, capturing her attention again. "I don't expect anything from you, Blossom, okay? And I'm not going to because whatever happens between us, I want you to be one hundred percent comfortable with. Until you are, I'm not going to want anything."

"Are you sure?" She whispered, blinking back the water in her eyes.

Perhaps Blossom did have enough tears left to cry from the softness Brick was providing her. From the overwhelming emotion of love she felt for him.

Brick nodded without any hesitations, "How you feel is my main priority."

A smile slowly spread across her lips as she leaned her whole body back down to give him a gentle kiss. She felt the panic inside of her disappear, leaving her to feel homely in Brick's arms again.

She wrapped her own arms around his shoulders once more. When she pulled away, Blossom decided to rest the right side of her head on his bare chest. Her ear attentively listened to the thumping of his heartbeat. His abnormal body temperature warmed every inch of her skin pressed up against him. One of his hands was lightly rubbing it's fingertips into circles on the skin of her upper back.

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. The effortless enjoyment of the other's company fulfilling them. Blossom even felt serene enough that her eyes were beginning to grow heavy. Her mind calmed by the slow rise and fall of Brick's chest. She was minutes away from falling into a slumber when Brick's deep voice woke her out of it.

"Do you want to talk about today?"

Blossom exhaled hot air, her mind racking around the question. "I'm not ready to talk about my mom…"

"We don't have to talk about her."

There was a certain degree of mutual understanding in his tone. She did not want to divulge into the matters concerning her mom; he did not want to talk about Mojo much. It was easy for them to come to a boundary without much discussion about it.

She closed her eyes as she allowed her feelings from the day to flow out of her.

"Buttercup, Bubbles, and Boomer have all come to the agreement of not wanting to deal with Him anymore. They want to enjoy the time they have left instead of…" Blossom swallowed harshly as various images of Him's violent actions flashed through her mind. "And… I think they may have a point. Maybe it is time to give up…"

"You're not one to give up."

"I know... Trust me, I know..." Blossom murmured. "I just..." She opened her eyes, finding her gaze to be on the amber lighting of the lamp diagonal from her. "Buttercup said something that really got me thinking. She said we should simply enjoy the time we have left before the worst happens and―and I'm wondering if I should do the same. If I should stop myself before I become miserable and obsessive about stopping Him... Before I ended up like Professor Utonium..."

Brick did not say anything in reply. Instead, his lips puffed out in thought. A "mmh" was caught in his throat.

"It would be so nice to forget about all of this for a little. To not live in fear anymore..." Blossom glided her thumb against the skin in the hollow of Brick's neck. "We could leave together, you know? Run off and explore the Western seaboard before it all becomes nothing―Or we could backpack through Europe..." A longing full sigh escaped her lips as Blossom imagined the many possibilities in which were not completely out of touch if she really thought about it. They could leave right this instant and be enjoying the little amount of time they had left together. "I would happily take the opportunity to travel with you until our world ends..."

"As tempting as that may sound... I don't think that's what you truly want," Brick commented respectfully. "You wouldn't be able to turn your back on Townsville and everyone in it so easily like that."

Blossom thought she would disagree with him. She felt her conscience make up a rebuttal to his words but her heart spoke up for her instead.

"No… it's not. Not when I feel responsible for what happened to Brat… Not when I've seen what will happen if we don't even intervene with Him," Blossom whispered hollowly. Her momentarily escape to a fantasy in her head crashed and burned abruptly, leaving her unable to breath in anything but the smoke and flames of the wreckage. Her heart was in her throat as she spoke quietly to Brick, "But what is there for us to do? We've been stuck in this warped sense of damnation for the hundred and seventeenth time. And it feels as if we're no step closer than the previous chances before us."

"I don't know if that's true. When I was working with Him, we both found the original group of five of you were processing everything at a much more accelerated rate than before. From what Him had let me remember, there has never been any big tidal waves to Him's plans until late October. But in this timeline, you figured out I was the pyro within the first five days. You went back to the lake way sooner than you normally would have. Then I told you all about what was really going on at the first month mark. If that is any indicator, it seems to me that we," He tapped his finger against the side of her head lightly. "You have the answers, Blossom. Somewhere in your mind, it's there. We just haven't pinpointed out what they are yet."

"I can't have the answers," she muttered. Blossom sat up again. Her hands laying flatly against Brick's chest as she did her best to meet his eyes. "Not when I led us to the Halloween attack. Not when my decisions led to Brat's death…"

"You weren't the sole cause of her death," Brick spoke somberly. His hands cupped each side of her hips.

"But I saw it in my visions and I never did anything about it," she confessed in a hush breath.

"Then you're just as guilty as I am for not stopping Ace."

"Brick, that's—"

"Different? Not in my eyes," he remarked stubbornly. "And you know I'm not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for something that you had no control over in the end."

"Well it's not like I could have any control when I've been sidelined for anything we do. I'm so useless compared to everyone else."

"That's untrue. You've been our unofficial leader this whole time."

"Right. I'm the leader who played right into Him's non-existent hands…" Blossom shook her head in shame. "I don't know what I should think or feel anymore. It's as if I'm playing this gigantic game of chess with Him and every time I make a move, he's already calling checkmate."

Brick read her face. His mind in obvious deep thought but Blossom was not patient enough to wait for his reply.

"For the entirety of my life, I've had this firm, strong belief there is good in the world. No matter how dark things may get, there is always light at the end. And because of that, I've tried to embody the good I believe everyone is capable of. I could never turn my back on those who need me. But now…" A tight breath hitched up in her throat. "Perhaps I've been the problem here. My sense of duty to save the world I love has led us to make deathly mistakes. Ones we could have avoided if I didn't fight for them so much."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself," Brick said quietly.

"Am I though?" She muttered. Rose-colored eyes glassed over from the accumulation of the frustrations, mistrust, and fears she had towards herself. "Or am I too caught up in my own wants to realize how wrong I may be? Perhaps I've been the selfish one this whole time."

"You're the most selfless person I know, sweetheart."

"But what if I've been that way in order to stroke my ego? To make myself feel better for all the trouble I cause? Maybe I've been a fraud this entire time. What if, at the end, when it's all said and done, I've let my ego relish in the satisfaction of helping others because it makes me feel better?" She theorized. Her hands went to pull on the roots of her hair in which were a bit still moist from her shower.

Brick scoffed slightly at the thought. "If you have to hypothesize about it than be acutely aware of such things like that, then I pretty sure your mind is just being irrational."

"I don't know. Buttercup said—"

"Buttercup is willing to say anything to drive people away right now," Brick interjected firmly. His eyes kept a steady gaze on her. "She knows you very well. Therefore, she also knows the exact things to say to get under your skin and keep you at a distance."

"But there has to be some truth to it or she wouldn't say it."

Brick inhaled and exhaled sharply through his nose. He let a minute pass as he studied her. Insecurities, fears, and all.

"You don't realize the impact you have, Blossom," he said after some time. His voice smooth and tender. "You made me believe in hope again after years of not thinking such a feeling existed anymore."

Blossom remained silent. Her mind growing choppy from the conflicting emotions within her.

"You take too much responsibility for anything wrong that happens to you or those around you. You pile and pile so much on those small shoulders of your's, but never once I have heard you complain about it. In fact, the only time you say anything negative, it's about yourself and how you weren't able to do much for yourself or someone else."

"You're not perfect, don't get me wrong," he continued. "But you never have tried to be such. Instead, you strive to be everything nice this world has to offer. And yeah, sure, you're going to take some missteps here and there. There are people who are going to challenge you. Yet, you always look for the best of any situation or person… And maybe I'm being biased here but I know I'm not the only one who feels such a way about you.

Brick reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. His eyes bright with adoration. They were the softest shade of red Blossom has ever seen before.

"So have this pity party you're having right now. Doubt yourself for a moment. But we both know this truly isn't you and you'll—we'll bounce back from this. We will make sure Brat did not die in vain. We will stop Him. Even if it's just you and me. As long as you believe in yourself and want to continue fighting for the good in the world, then I'm going to be right there with you. I will stand by you, no matter what."

"...we can't do it alone, Brick. As much as I adore you for wanting to stand by my side, I'm not going to endanger you anymore," Blossom mumbled after ingesting his kind words. "I don't want to endanger anyone at all. Not when I've watched strangers and the ones I love die over and over again…"

She waited for Brick to response. For him to say something to comfort her and ease her mind as he had a knack for doing so. Yet, nothing came out.

His body had stiffened, actually. Those full lips of his, in which Blossom loved dearly, were left open a little as he stared blankly at her.

"...I've died, haven't I?"

His voice was raw and tired.

Blossom felt her stomach flop from the truth she has kept locked away from him for weeks.

"Brick, I—"

"Please just tell me, Blossom."

The redhead tilted her head to a degree, her eyes struggling to meet his. They were the most vacant shade of ruby.

She sucked in a deep breath before she exhaled the shaky answer. "Yes."

His eyes closed, his hands went to rub his face. The truth finding a home in his heavy chest.

"God, I… I'm so sorry you had to see that."

Blossom moved her hand, brushing away a few strands of wavy, scarlet hair from his face. He may not be able to see but her face conveyed a large amount of guilt she has carried for two months.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," she whispered remorsefully. "I thought I had enough time to protect you from what could repeat again." His hands withdrew from his face, his eyes becoming greeted by Blossom's. A tear had disobeyed her, making a free fall down her cheek and staining her skin. "I wanted to make sure you kept your hopes high enough to stay mentally present because I couldn't bare with losing you the minute after you had finally let me have you. It was selfish of me to do so and I'm so incredibly sorry, Brick."

"Don't apologize," he said. His face pensive as he gently wiped away the leftover residue from her tear with his thumb. "The knowledge I was one of Him's casualties doesn't surprise me." He inhaled a sharp breath, "That fact I'm still alive in this timeline for as long as I have rejected Him is what seems to be more mind boggling for me."

Blossom's gaze fell. Her view was blurry and unfocused on the stitching of the chocolate quilt underneath them. Rose-colored eyes were glassy from the remembrance of Boomer's words.

"Boomer told me about what happened on Halloween," Blossom murmured.

She felt Brick's breath hitch. The heat of his skin grew even more, resulting in the skin of Blossom's thighs to feel as if they were becoming completely sunburned from being pressed against Brick's torso.

"...I was trying to save Brat…"

"Brick… We both know there's more to it."

He let out a sigh. It was an expulsion of the eternity of exhaustion he has carried throughout his life.

"Fine… I was more than willing to die that night. Even when you saved me from drowning, I felt disappointed. And I don't even understand why," he voiced with frustration. Blossom glanced up again, staring into his dull eyes. His gaze focused on the wood paneling of the roof, avoiding the compassionate stare Blossom held. "I should be okay now. I have a home. I been able to work my ass off for the last five years to keep Mojo's legacy alive but also to pay all of his medical bills and my own bills too. I have friends, I guess—or at least, people I care enough about to not want to see them hurt. I have a girlfriend who I'm crazy about. I do everything I can to keep me stable. I stay away from alcohol. I'm anal about cleaning because it at least keeps my mind clear for awhile and helps me with the compulsive thoughts I have. I make sure for doctors not to give me painkillers if I were to ever get injured. I take my antidepressants everyday... I should be happy. I should want to live but…" He combed a hand through his hair, shaking his head slowly. "I don't. I've never have and I'm terrified that may never will."

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" Blossom asked softly.

"I used to go to therapy regularly back when Mojo was okay. That's how I got my medication," he revealed quietly. Blossom's mind flash-backed to the pill she watched him ingest in the morning. "After he… you know. I could only go once a month in order to keep the shop open seven days a week. Now with this Him crap, I haven't gone since August."

"But for awhile there, I didn't care about going back because I thought I was finally okay," Brick continued. His ruby-colored eyes found themselves back to Blossom's. A hand began to fiddle nervously with the ends of her long, orange hair. "After I stopped being Him's puppet and let you in, things seemed much easier. I had something to look forward to with studying for my GED and getting to see you everyday; but most importantly, I was slowly inching closer to becoming the man Mojo had always believed I could be. I was finally able to catch my breath for once..."

"But then Halloween happened," Blossom finished vacantly.

"Yup," he answered with a hollowness to his deep voice. "And I was brought back to reality. To my reality. I just… I don't get it. I don't know how people can live life. To get up each day with ease and be excited for what's to come. It," he shook his head in a small motion. "Has never made sense to me. Even with the very few things that have gone well in my life. I thought I was close to figuring it out when I met you but I couldn't let myself fall into that way of thinking…"

"I know I can't be the single source of your happiness," she said understandingly in a delicate voice. "It wouldn't be fair to me if I was. Your happiness is something you have to figure out for yourself."

"Exactly. But you have, however, made it easier for me to get through the days."

"Not now though."

Brick analyzed her for a steady moment before shaking his head once. "No. You still give me a break from how shitty I feel all the time... It's just with Mojo and now Brat, I've been contemplating if I'm even worthy to still be alive when compared to them. How everyone else's lives have been and are more important than mine ever will be. If it would be more beneficial if I swapped places with them than to be stuck living the life I have… It would be a lot easier for most if I was gone," he revealed somberly. Ruby-colored eyes had become fragile and glassy.

"Don't…" Blossom swallowed the hard lump in her throat. "Don't say that, Brick. If something happened to you… if you did something to yourself—"

"I wouldn't though," he interjected softly. "Yeah, the thoughts have come and gone but I've never considered them fully to take action. I don't think I have the strength to go through with it anyway. But I've come to realize I wouldn't stop someone from trying to kill me. I do know I'm not scared of dying. That night on Halloween, I was at peace for once. And that feeling… it hasn't left my system since."

"The want?"

"More of the understanding of what to expect," he corrected quietly. Brick's eyes grew bright with remorse a second after. His hands went to cup the sides of her head, weaving his fingers into her orange hair. "I'm sorry for all of this. I'm sure hearing your boyfriend—"

"No, you will not apologize, Brick Jojo," Blossom said firmly. She exhaled a shaky breath, her tone becoming softer as she went on, "I wanted you to be open and tell me how you feel. Whether it be good or bad, I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Just as you would do the same for me, I'm going to be right by your side to support you through anything. This," she traced her fingertip over the left side of his chest, outlining an imaginary shape of a heart. "Doesn't change anything for me."

She watched as the corner of his mouth twitched upward for a moment.

"You're too good to me, you know that?"

"And you are to me."

Brick let a small, coy smile reflect off of his face. A slight silence faltered between them as he took a moment to himself. When he did speak again, his voice came off rough and uneasy; his words jammed pack with a mixture of emotions.

"If Him is defeated and we make it out of this alive, I'll make sure to get the help I need. I want to get better for myself but also for Mojo. Going back to therapy..." He trailed off. His Adam's apple bobbed harshly as he swallowed his words down before allowing them to come back up again. "Taking care of myself and to be happy... It would be what he would have wanted for me. And I just want to do what would have made him proud..."

Blossom ran her hand along the curve of his jaw. "I'm sure he was always proud of you, Brick."

"...I hope so," he murmured. A broken yet hopeful smile took shape on his lips, letting her know he truly wanted to be optimistic for once on this particularly painful topic.

Blossom leaned forward, brushing her lips against his for a moment. The air of the room becoming light again as she felt Brick ease up.

He was completely transparent with her now. A first for him to do such a thing in his life, Blossom hypothesized; even with Mojo, he hid these parts of himself.

When she pulled away, Brick began to memorize her face. His thumb stroked against her right cheek.

"You're incredibly strong, you know that?"

Blossom sighed, letting her shoulders slump down in defeat. "I don't want to sound like a broken record, but lately I haven't been able to find that strength you're talking about," Blossom muttered.

"You will," he assured warmly. "And I'll be here to keep reminding you until you're able to see and believe it for yourself." Brick brought her head down gently, leaning his forehead against her's. "Once you stop and let yourself breath. Once you overcome this fear inside of you, I swear you will see how damn strong you truly are, sweetheart."

Blossom blinked at him. Her mind processing how he may be right. That she was letting herself unravel from all the pressure she was placing onto herself.

From the all trauma she experienced in one day.

It all led her back to the place she was in before having her conversation with Boomer after Halloween. A mental state she had agreed not to submit to.

Her need to move forward. To cope with Brat's death. It was all the way she mourned, Blossom realized. The day had thrown it off, making her question who she was. Her fears of becoming Professor Utonium had dug way deeper into her mind than she had originally acknowledged. It threw her back into a state of mind she had abandoned the second her life changed at the lake on August 22nd. Her newly salvaged self has not wondered about the past anymore but reverted back to lusting after an out of reach future.

That was her mistake. The one she has not corrected. She was moving in lightning speed without taking a second to stop and look around. Her want to be five steps ahead, led her to be seven steps behind.

Perhaps, Buttercup was right about one thing. Blossom needed to live in the present. There may be things in the past she wanted to relive or change. Things in the future she wanted or feared. But the present was the only time she was going to enjoy her life. The only time she could attain— ironically, even with her chronokinesis, it was.

She needed to savor the days she had but also use them to her benefit. There was so much she could do if she stopped trying to have the future figured out all of the time. If she forgave herself for the past. Then she could contently live in the present as she should.

Then perhaps she could be ready for Him...

Blossom was going to allow herself to still be sad. To mourn Brat in her own way. To let her need to take responsible be a way to motivate herself. But she was not going to lose sight of herself. She was not going to let her friends do the same. Nor her boyfriend either.

The present was all she had left and Blossom was not going to let it go.

For instance, Blossom was currently in the arms of the man she felt incredibly strong feelings for…

"I'm in love with you," she confessed abruptly in a quick breath. Her mouth moving faster than her mind.

She jerked her head back to stare at him, wide-eyed and surprised by her own boldness. Her five words hung in the air awkwardly. The skin from her neck up was burning from the sudden wave of bashfulness that hit her.

All of the sudden, she became more conscious to her clothing again. To how reveal she felt it may be. How she may have been giving off the wrong message by laying and sitting on top of him for this long. For how she picked the absolute worst time to say such a thing to him.

Her thoughts were surely irrational from her anxious demeanor taking over but Blossom could not fight them off at the moment as she waited for Brick's response.

Brick sat quietly. His eyes seemed to blink in a quicker pace than normal.

A moment passed. And then another. And another… Until he finally spoke up in an uneasy tone.

"Oh…" He cleared his throat nervously. "I, uh…" Brick inhaled a breath through his nose, exhaling the hot air out of his mouth. His shoulders were tense, perching up into his neck. "I… I've never said that word to anyone before…"

Blossom opened her mouth to ask what he meant but it soon came to her.

Love...

He has never uttered the word to another. Even to Mojo. Her rose-colored eyes read him with mild shock before she swallowed the surprised nature down. Her expression becoming neutral.

"I don't want you to feel forced to say it back," Blossom said quickly in a soft nature. "I just... I needed to get it off my chest. I think after tonight, I simply wanted you to know that you're capable of being loved and deserve to be too." Her hand went to cup his left cheek. Her thumb stroked gently at the corner of his mouth. "But perhaps, I don't think I could have kept it in me anymore on how much I adore you. You are my present, Brick Jojo. And whatever life throws at me, I firmly believe you are one of the best things to happen to mine."

"I could say the same for me," he said steadily after a moment, despite the noticeable discomfort in which still lingered on in him a little. "I never thought one of my customers would become so important to me."

Blossom chuckled at his comment before she unintentionally let out a yawn. Her expulsion of air was contagious as Brick soon followed her action. Blossom took the initiative to untangle herself from him, peeling her thighs off of his torso. The redhead quietly made the move to tuck herself under the chocolate quilt on his bed. Her thin frame then curled up next to him as she laid down on her side.

"You know... If Him has been manipulating us this whole time, then there's a strong chance I came back to Townsville because of Him."

Brick frowned for a moment from the mention of Him, "That could be."

"Well then―What I'm trying to say here, is―If Him didn't exist, maybe there's a chance we would have never met," Blossom explained. "Or do you think we would have ended up together regardless?"

"I like to believe we would have," Brick answered easily without much thought. "Not to be a fucking sap, but I like to believe we would find each other regardless of any landscape we were to live in. Don't you?"

Blossom nodded, a warm smile spreading across her lips. "Yeah. I do, actually."

"Then I guess we're stuck with each other," he said quietly as he shifted onto his side to face her. Brick angled his head to leave just an inch of space between them.

"Oh, you're definitely stuck with me," Blossom chuckled lightly against his lips

She leaned forward, going in for a long, lingering kiss. It felt as if they had kissed for the first time again. Her chest fluttered from the plethora of fuzzy feelings she felt. Emotions she wished could never be lost or forgotten ever again...

When they reluctantly parted, Blossom stroked her thumb against the length of his chin as she was taking in the moment where she may have fallen even deeper in love with Brick than ever before. As she grew satisfied with the mental picture she encapsulated in her mind, Brick silently got up to turn off the lamp on his dresser, allowing a calming darkness to swallow up the room. She turned onto the her opposite side of her body, feeling the mattress sink downward when Brick's weight pressed down on it again. His arm snaked itself around her waist afterward. His warm presence pressured up against her back; his body went uncovered by the quilt due to the uncomfortable increase of heat it would bring him in slumber.

Blossom rested her eyes, savoring the last few conscious moments of the night before they both dozed off.

"Thank you... For everything tonight," she whispered hesitantly. "I came here more scared than I realized but you helped me regain control before I lost myself. So thank you, Brick."

"Anytime, sweetheart," he said gently. The breath of his words hit the back of her neck, sending goosebumps down her spine. "And you know… you can stay here for whatever amount of time you need…"

Blossom peeked through her eyes at him despite him being behind her and the room being pitch-black. "Are you sure?"

He squeezed her waist once, "Yeah. As long as you stay away from the oven, I think you would make a pretty decent roommate."

"It was one time, Brick," she huffed out dramatically as he chuckled behind her.

"And I will never let you forget about it."

His amusement was soon replaced by a light snore in a span of minutes. The sound helped guide Blossom into her own sleep. For once since the original night at the lake, Blossom felt safe enough to fall asleep. She was at ease enough to welcome her dreams without any fears.

---

Unknown Date

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time...

"Bubs, please…"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Bubbles repeated again. Her emotions were kept at bay to balance out the hysteria between her and Blossom.

Blossom wiped her eyes. Her mind trying to find a way to convince her.

The others… They did not see it.

They did not see the windows of time surrounding them. The portals to the past were only able to be seen by her, thanks to her chronokinesis.

There was the scene of her running to her exam; the day she made the mistake of running into Henry.

Her mom and her opening her college acceptance letter.

Moments of her and her friends in the back booth of Otto's, not showing a care in the world other than enjoying a good milkshake and fries.

The moment she walked into Brick's mechanic shop and met him for the first time.

Even the scene from moments ago containing one of her worst nightmares. Brick dying...

They were all replays of her life continuing on loop, waiting for her to access them. The problem was, she was unable to focus.

Her thoughts were on Brick. The way his body was tossed to the side as if he was garbage. The gaping hole in his lower abdomen, similar to the one she repeatedly envisioned herself receiving by a mysterious red monster with claws.

He did it to protect her. She should have known by his behavior. How erratic he was behaving the night before. The tone he used when telling her to never go back to the lake. The desperate nature he was in, in which led him to finally kiss her for the first time.

Last night, Blossom went to sleep thinking she would be starting the New Year with someone certainly special in her heart. This night, before the clock struck midnight, she had to mourn the lost of him and the idea of a future they could have had together.

Furthermore, she had to accept the lost in the belief of a future. It was clear they were doomed the longer they stayed on the path they were on. Ever since the night at the lake, they been dodging the wrath of some unknown source. With Brick gone, Blossom was sure they would soon follow quickly.

She had to fix it. She could fix it if only she could tap into those damn time portals and start over again.

Blossom could save Brick. Her friends. The people of Townsville. The United States. The world.

Herself…

She needed to tap into her emotions more. Seeing Brick's body triggered the portals to open up in plain view for her. For her to break through the thin fabric of the space-time continuum.

If she obtained a boost of adrenaline from the strong emotions of pain to spike her abilities, then maybe, just maybe, she could stop Brick from dying.

She could stop the chances of any of them dying.

Blossom needed to create a reaction out of Bubbles. One she could not control.

"Your dad..." Blossom trailed off quietly.

If she finished her sentence, she would commit an act that was extremely out of character for her. Bubbles'—and anyone's well being—was a top priority for her. However, the decision to reveal such information could be the determining factor of her saving the world from it's impending destruction or not.

Bubbles' peace of mind at the moment was a sacrifice Blossom was willing to make. It was a decision made out of a desperate mind clinging onto the notion she was the only one capable of fixing the world.

It was the last amount of hope she had left.

"He… He is going to leave your mom for mine," Blossom confessed in a breath.

The redhead watched as Bubbles' light blue eyes glazed over. It was like watching a lake freeze over in the matter of seconds.

Her lip began to tremor as she shivered from the deepest frigid temperature from within her.

"He–He–He what?" She stuttered. Her lips were becoming the same hue of her eyes.

Bubbles lacked control over her powers. More importantly, her emotions. It was one of the reasons why Blossom begged her for harm instead of Boomer or Buttercup.

The other reason... It was a hypothetical but Blossom was sure it would work out. That other notion was simply a sense of insurance in case she was not able to fix things completely.

The ice inside Bubbles was taking over any sense of warmth that remained in her. The palms of her hands were crackling subtlety. Sprouts of ice were covering her hands, all the way up to her elbows.

"Bubs, don't—"

"He's going to do it," Blossom nodded aggressively, interrupting Boomer's warning to the blonde.

A thin layer of ice began to spread under their feet. Blossom had to release her hold on Bubbles' shoulders in order to hug herself for warmth. Their breaths were condensing into what should be a dry heat.

"But if you stab me, there's a chance we could change it. I could fix this. We can get another chance, Bubs. I swear—"

It all happened in the blink of an eye. The creation of the icicle. The excruciating pain Blossom felt in her stomach. Her Happy New Year headband falling and bouncing onto the ground until settling a few feet away from her. Herself following suit by falling back into the beach. Her head finding comfort in the hard pillow of the pebbles of the beach.

She felt a rush of her senses. The throbbing pain of her piercing stab wound coursed throughout. A scream of agony escaped from her lips and into the moonlight.

More time windows popped up around her. The moments played out in a rapid pace. As if they were being fast-forwarded and reversed over and over again.

She had enough unstable energy to reach one. Her emotions were manic enough to make them tangible.

And then suddenly, she felt a numbness.

Her eyes settled onto the silver lighting of the moon. On the simple beauty of the celestial body.

The high of adrenaline was burning out. The rush she felt was depleting with each second.

Flashes of memories played over in her mind. The portals of time seemed to close as the life fled from her soul.

Blossom kept her focus on one of the windows. A scene of her watching a sunset on the beach reflected from the portal. She had to reach it before it shut. She had to be able to fix this.

The darkness was succumbing her. There was no way to save her.

None except for the single time window she had managed to escape to...

---

November 10th

Townsville, Arizona

Present Day...

Blossom snapped her eyes open. Her lower abdomen ached from the phantom pain she felt.

Bubbles stabbed her because Blossom wanted it?

The time portal of her at the beach meant…

Blossom stirred slowly, gently lifting up Brick's arm from her waist and placing it back down on the bed. Her eyes gave him a once over. An uncontrollable small smile tugged at her lips from the sight of his peaceful state. She then quietly exited the bedroom, shutting the door behind her and entering his living room.

Her eyes went to the clock on the stove, reading it was five in the morning. She had gotten about six hours of sleep. An hour more than she regularly got since Him became a constant in her dreams.

Blossom went to turn on a lamp by the couch. Her eyes blinked to adjust to the sudden bright light in the room. She moved to the kitchen, searching for a notepad and pen in his drawers. She needed to make sense of what she saw.

Of everything she has seen from the past.

Once she located a notepad and pen, she took a seat on his couch. Her legs crossed as she began jotting down the web of timelines in her head. More importantly, the real meanings behind them.

With a mind clear of any fears, Blossom was able to think rational. From it, she started her notes with the beginning. The scenes she traveled back in time to witness.

1917 gave her the true start. How Him came to be in her dimension and why he has remained. Furthermore, the importance the secret bunker under the lake actually was when considering how easily the blurring of time may be underneath the room; all thanks to the meteor containing unknown supernatural abilities crashing into the center of the lake.

1937 and 1977 were connected in a way. The thirties showed Blossom the path she would have to take in order to get to the entrance of the bunker. Then the seventies were an extension of the map she needed.

Separately, 1937 also gave her the theory of how complicated romantic relations were a common form of Him's probable manipulation. This stems from her knowledge of four out of the six eras seemed to have some type of a love triangle influencing part of the conflict of those affected. While 1977 let her know more of the town's cover up to the incidents at the lake and how it was incredibly possible Him was manipulating more than a select group of individuals. It could be the whole town...

1957 was a warning. A view into what Him wanted for her and her friends. The act of turning against each other and flinging out vicious attacks to harm one another. It was a much simpler way of reaching chaos than for Him to get his hands dirty with death.

1997…

Blossom was not sure what was the singular importance of the time era. To show her the connection between them and their parents? Him's possible manipulation over their entire lives? Or perhaps it goes back to Professor Utonium's journal entry. The blame he placed on Sedusa and himself. The want and need for forgiveness…

He was talking about Mojo, Blossom realized. If he had listened to Mojo, if he did not spend so much time talking to Sedusa, then they would have never become victims to Him's terror...

The power of forgiveness had to be an advantage against Him. The problem was, Blossom was not sure what were the true needs involving her and her friends that needed to be forgiven. She had some ideas but Blossom could not make assumptions towards what others needed anymore.

Then there was her time period. The vision in which was cut off until her dream.

The redhead avoided writing anything down from the vision she saw for the moment. Her mind was still trying to wrap around the conclusion she may have settled onto.

As Blossom re-read the notes she had scribbled down on the notepad, she could see how each of the five time periods represented what they had to do. With a new blank page, she began to take notes of certain scenes in which did not make sense to her until now.

She began with comparing certain timelines in which did not same connected until now.

For instances, Brute and Berserk's visions were congruent to each other as they foreshadowed Brat's death. A warning Blossom regrettably should have prepared for more than anything.

Yet, any preparation she may have engaged in could have been a wasted effort. Boomer's words of Brat's death possibly being inevitable echoed through her mind. She shook her head at the thought, still not comfortable with accepting it despite her better judgement acknowledging it was a strong theory.

There was another aspect Blossom failed to realize from those visions until now. Perhaps her visions were not a sign of caution after all.

Maybe they were a hint into what she needed from each person. The action of Brat's death could lead to Brute and Berserk becoming what Him desired but it also brought out other behaviors.

Brute's constant attacking of Berserk in the wake of Brat's death, could be seen as a raise in conflict to add to Him's much needed chaos. However, it also led to Brute finally gaining enough confidence to express her true feelings. The green-eyed girl has been known to keep her troubles a secret to remain neutral but a true act of wrath had brought out the courage in her.

Berserk, one of the most aloof individuals Blossom knew, came undone in an instant from Brat's passing. Her shift in spirit could make her easier to manipulate but Blossom felt it was something more.

Butch.

Berserk leaning onto Butch during her mourning brought them closer. More so, Berserk acknowledged the unconditional love between them. The walls she had let crumble down for him to see despite her insecurities.

Butch helped Berserk become more open to becoming soft. For her to openly care about someone more than she cared about herself.

Berserk has already sacrificed her friendship with Brute to protect the green-eyed girl. She was close to risking her own life in order to save Brat;s. Blossom could only imagine the lengths Berserk was willing to commit for Butch.

That must be how Him kept her hooked. He could threaten Butch as leverage to make her cooperate to whatever Him may want. Berserk has shown her second thoughts to Blossom once before, and it has become clear the reason she has stayed with Him was to keep the ones Berserk cared for the most unharmed for as long as she could.

Blossom flipped to the next page as her handwriting filled another paper of notes.

Robin's vision was connected to the one she had originally believed was Butch's vision. Blossom had mistakenly saw the scene of Butch and Berserk as a warning to their impending romance. She should have realized, as her and Brick are, Berserk and Butch may be a given to almost each timeline. Or perhaps, the re-introduction to each other from the first timeline and so on, made it impossible for them to ignore the long buried away feelings they had for each other. Them, as a couple, was a gradual process over the course of a hundred and seventeen timelines, resulting in it to become practically impossible for them not to reunite now.

Therefore, that vision was not for her to stop them from being together or give her insight into their relationship. No. It was to show her the inside of the bunker. For her to know the true center of the lake.

Robin's vision added to it by showing Blossom how she has traveled to the bunker once before. The problem was, then, the redhead had no clue what she had to do there.

Not to mention, there was a sneaking suspicion Robin may had done something to sabotage her or at least had the intent to ruin her relationship with Brick but Blossom was not focused on that at the moment…

Bubbles' vision showed the aftermath of what Blossom had seen today of her own flashback to the past.

It seemed to be clear to her that those interconnected scenes were from the first timeline they ever lived. The Happy New Year headband she had wore gave it away when considering they have been repeating time from August 22nd until the eve of the New Year.

Then that brought her to the truth she could not have expected. The insight into those time portals she was desperate to reach…

It explained why she felt a calling to come back to Townsville.

She had reversed time back to such a long period of time, starting over again on Fort Lauderdale Beach. The reasoning of Townsville needing her was true. It was because, in the redacted memories Blossom had, she kept a hold of the true sense of duty she originally had when begging Bubbles to stab her.

Which if she had started the first time loop on New Year's, that meant it was not Him who was rebooting each timeline. It was not Him would drawn her back to Townsville each and every time...

It was her.

That was the reason why Him always appeared to have an edge over them. Her mind thought of how weird it was the mysterious shadows on Halloween did not want to harm her; instead, they kept her far away from the others while Ace's deathly gas grew.

Him was protecting her that night, Blossom suddenly coming to the shocking notion. Him did not want the new timelines as much as Blossom thought she did not.

It was her dying...

She was what triggered a reboot each and every time.

As she came to this realization, it was as if she unlocked a secret door. Flashes of previous timelines looped over. A kaleidoscope of blood red and dull pink eyes burned through her mind.

Each a scene of some type of sacrificial, self-inflicted injury. Each were a result from a emotional depleting action from before—Brick, Buttercup, Boomer, Bubbles... There was no life spared in Him's past efforts. Each happening somewhere other than the lake. Each an act of desperate courage to reach a fleeing solution to the past. Each leading her back to a place she visited...

To her in Fort Lauderdale. Orlando. South Carolina. New York. Cape Cod... With each reboot, Blossom went back further in time trying to warn herself to come back to Townsville. Fort Lauderdale Beach was where all the emotions and nagging voices met, pushing her to finally make the decision to come back as she has done for the past a hundred and sixteen times.

She was the problem...

She swiftly came to the revelation of the second reason why she choose Bubbles to wound her. It was the merging of time and ice. The literal interpretation of freezing time. This explained the scarce amount of timelines that did not involve her dying. In those, the timeline simply restarted after midnight came on New Year's. Which meant, time has been frozen on these particular months between late August and December because of her original intent of manipulating Bubbles.

It was why the lake never changed anymore. Why their destruction on Halloween simply vanished. Time had stood still at the lake, trapped forever to remain pristine in image.

And she knew this the first time. The thought of having insurance... She wanted to freeze time in order to have enough time to figure things out until they stopped Him completely. The problem was, her past self did not account for the wiping away of her and the others' memories whenever she reversed time. Her past self's desperate nature to fix, had failed to realize she was losing sight of reality...

In fact, all of her past selves had become depended on the escape strategies of dying and replaying again or waiting it out for the reboot. Which meant, the more she put herself in an active position of stopping Him, the more she endangers herself and the others of another new timeline. However, if she sits around and does nothing, the timeline would begin again no matter what.

It was all her fault. The more she pushes, the more everything falls apart. The more she pulls away, the more she loses sight of herself.

She needed something to change but Blossom was not the change.

Blossom was beginning to realize more and more on how she needed to let go of control.

She could not be the one in charge anymore. The longer she was, the more things could get out of hand. Each new timeline has had the same three factors: her and Brick, the chance of a reboot, and her taking the lead.

If she has been the one in charge of making all the plans for every timeline and Him has kept his memories intact for each time, then it explained why he was always one step ahead. She has made the same mistakes over and over again without learning from the past. There was nothing new for Him to witness.

As long as Blossom was in charge and put herself in harm's way, there was no end to the them being Him's play toys.

To the torture Blossom has extended for a hundred and sixteen more times...

There needed to be a change. More important, she had to take a page from the past and—

"You're up?"

Blossom glanced over her shoulder, finding Brick standing by his bedroom door. His hand rubbed at his eye, reminding her of a toddler awakening from a nap.

"Yeah. I had a vision and needed to write somethings done," she explained in a quiet tone. "But I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be lucky enough to get anymore sleep though."

A single nod was made in her direction as he left the door to the bedroom open and went to the kitchen. He pulled out a frying pan, clinking the metal surface against the other pots and pans.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you breakfast," Brick responded nonchalantly. His refrigerator door opening and closing as he took out a carton of eggs.

"You don't have to do that."

"But I want to," he stated stubbornly before shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, I'm up now. So I might as well make myself some too before I get ready for work in a couple of hours."

"Fine," Blossom settled.

A grateful smile laced her lips as she watched him crack a pair of eggs against the frying pan. The contents of the shelled object splashed into the pan, sizzling loudly from the contact made with the heat of the stove top. He moved along, placing slices of white bread into a toaster.

"So what happened?" Brick said. He tossed a look over to her quickly before focusing back on the eggs he was cooking. "In your vision."

"Not much," she answered tightly. Her chest was heavy from keeping the full truth away from him. But with what she knew, it was best if she did not divulge to him about what was really happening. Not when Blossom was still trying to make sense of her options. "It gave me insight about myself and how I'm not right to lead anymore."

Brick snorted. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"I've been the one making all the decisions since the original timeline. Him is able to predict our moves because he knows exactly how I think. Therefore, if I continue to be the one in charge, we're never going to beat Him."

"Then what option do we have?" Brick questioned skeptically. He reached for a plate, sliding a pair of sunny-side up eggs onto the orange-colored surface. He then repeated the same process of cracking two eggs again. "There's no one else willing to lead us."

"I know," Blossom sighed. She ran a hand through her hair. "In a perfect world, we would be able to find someone who is capable of taking account to each and every angle. A team player who is also a total wildcard for Him. Someone who isn't impulsive and doesn't think they have all the answers right away…"

Brick slid the other two eggs onto a different plate. The sound of the toasted slices of bread popping out of the toaster was the only sound made as his ruby-colored eyes met her's. Both silently coming to conclusion of how they both thought of the same person instantly from her words.

"I think we already have the perfect candidate, sweetheart…"

---

Author's Notes:

Well, this is certainly the most I have ever wrote for anything in my entire life. The length, however, did make me nervous because I did not want to overwhelm anyone. Especially since a lot is discovered in this chapter. So thank you for taking the time to fully read this!

I'm sure this chapter either made things much more clearer or probably turned everything you thought you knew, upside down. Lots of twists and turns in this chapter, which is why I could not find myself able to stop writing at some points. There's a chance I may have made somethings seem more confusing now but whatever may seem odd has (hopefully) already been planned to be addressed in later chapters.

As for what was said between the girls and Butch... Well, that will have to wait for awhile too. All will be revealed soon enough but for now, their conversation is left to your assumption.

I'm also excited to say that the next chapter will finally shed some light and much needed love on Boomer!

Lastly, I would like to give a special shout out to Aitchhdee for keeping me motivated throughout this whole, entire chapter. You're the best!

Until next time, thank you for reading and please review!