Thank you for reading, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

His home was quiet, too quiet. He knew Esmond had come over earlier in the day. He could hear the young king's maniacal (but surely good-natured, he hoped) laughter floating about the estate. The walls echoed it and Brick would be lying if he said it did not trouble him. That laughter had died down, but that eerie feeling remained.

He couldn't find the time to leave his study and therefore hadn't actually seen Esmond roaming the halls and whatever secret crevices he found himself in. The boy knew how to hide and despite only living at the Jojo Estate -turned military headquarters- for less than half a year, Brick was sure that Esmond found (or rather created somehow) hidden passages and corridors that even the Jojo brother's themselves never found the time to discover.

He'd see him at dinner later, as usual. Then he would probably get an idea about just what Esmond had planned now. That laugh usually accompanied something worth mentioning, and that something always seemed to be trouble, at least for the Jojo's mostly.

For all of his tricks, teasing, and pranks, the Utonium sisters were left rather unscathed. The boy was, still is, and possibly will always be soft for those three sisters. They cared for him, loved him, treated him as family, as did the Jojo brothers, but the girls received reprieve from the tricky Esmond, most of the time.

"That tricky Esmond. Slick as oil, always planning."

The work his past self the night before left for him to suffer through had to get done by the end of the day. The only time he left the room was to take a piss or two, but Blossom's near-constant staring had him on edge enough to have him wanting to leave and not come back until his thoughts were back in order. He'd never caught her staring before.

"Why is she staring at me? Is there something on my face?"

She hadn't really said anything to him after he gave her the flower bud. He wondered if she found him odd now. Maybe he should have given some sort of explanation for it? She seemed happy though, her smile was dazzling.

Just as he had barely left the room, Blossom stayed seated at her desk as well. Working at a pace that seemed normal, her staring failed to distract her from her work completely. The stack of documents on her neat desk rivaled his own, but she seemed to be getting it all done faster than him.

Her desk… He honestly cannot remember when that desk wasn't there, when she wasn't there. It was identical to his own, but as his was a deep walnut her's was a light cherry wood. Her desk has small knick-knacks, a pressed flower from Bubbles, a miniature chess set gifted by Buttercup, and few of her favorite books in the corner of the desk. She made herself at home at that desk.

He'd stared periodically at her from time to time as she sat there. Admiring her, honestly. Having the roles reversed felt strange and Brick pondered if he made her feel this way too.

Made her feel...flustered.

They'd been doing this for well over a month, working together in this space. That flustered feeling Brick felt had been around for far longer. Months probably, maybe a while after she was brought here.

Glancing up at her again from the documents in his hands, he decided, no. Her staring was something different. He may not be sure just what his face looked like when he looked at her, but he had a strong feeling that it was not the same.

When he'd catch her looking at him, she did not shy away, she did not look away. Meeting her eyes each time sent a jolt through him and felt his mind stumbling. Willing his bladder to urge him to leave the room, he thought that at least that way he wouldn't be running away...technically. He felt like a coward, but if he were being honest with himself, cowardice was not what that was. Brick was no coward, just a young man with more responsibility than others his age. A young man, who never got the chance to feel flustered. Confused, and warmed by a beautiful, dazzling smile.

Her eyes spoke her secrets, and Brick could tell that she was conflicted about something every time she looked at him. She did not care that he knew she was looking, she stared and stared. Then suddenly, she spoke.

"I planned to stay here in this district, with you. In this estate. Do you mind that?"

Was that the reason for her staring? Because she was unsure of something like that? The question was strange, abrupt.

"Of course I don't mind. I would actually mind it if you were to not stay." He stated in the calmest voice he could. The spectacles on his face lowered a bit as he kept his gaze down. He spoke the truth, if she were to leave the district, this estate, him, he knew it would bother him.

She paused then. If he were to look up at her in that moment, he would see how nervous she was. How much thought she put into her words.

"If I were to stay forever, would you mind?" This time he heard her voice shake, his eyes immediately found hers.

"Forever is a long time, I am sure you would tire of me by then. Though, I'd never tire of you."

If Brick could kick himself, he would. I'd never tire of you… what is this? A third-rate romance novel? Surely he could've come up with something better than that.

She laughed, a glorious sound in the wake of his self conscious berating.

"I promise, I'd never get tired of you, or your handsome, grumpy face."

"Handsome?" He let a smile reach his lips. More like a tug of his lips, he did not want to get too excited, but she called him handsome, handsome is good.

"And grumpy." Blossom chimed, face slightly flushed pink as she laughed again.

"But mostly handsome?" He leaned back in his chair, his hunched over position smoothly turning into a relaxed one as he continued their banter. His lips stretched even further.

"Mostly handsome, definitely."

Brick suddenly wished that her desk was closer to his. Much closer, so she would only be an arm's length away. So he could hold her hand in his for even the briefest moment, like last night.

He swore that his hand stayed warm throughout the night just from the thought of her's laying over his. God, he sounded crazy.

He was so absorbed in Blossom, he didn't hear nor see the amethyst eyed king leaning in the in the now open doorway. He didn't catch the cheshire grin that slipped onto Esmond's face. Brick didn't even catch the calculating gleam in the young king's eyes as Esmond's gaze flitted between the two redheads.

"You look as if you want to eat her, Uncle. Surely, she's sweet but you shouldn't look at her with such eyes." Esmond cooed. His voice shocking both adults. Blossom colored prettily at his words.

Brick paid not much much to most of what his king said, but one word caught his attention.

"Ah Uncle? I'm truly honored to receive such a title." Brick spoke, and with purpose. It truly did warm his -what some would call icy- heart.

"Of course, you are family. Isn't that right, Aunty?" Esmond smiled. A genuine one without double meaning, Brick could tell.

Brick noticed Esmond had made it a habit to call Blossom and Bubbles "aunty". He had for quite a while now, and Brick found it quite suiting given their close relationship. It was...cute, he supposed.

"Ah yes. That is right." Blossom agreed.

Shifting to stand straight, Esmond locked eyes with Brick as he addressed his Blossom again, deciding it was time to stir the pot a bit, "Ah Aunty, you never got back to me about Baron Pendel's proposal."

'Proposal? A business proposal?', Brick's thoughts were transparent on his face as his eyes turned quizzical.

Brick had met Baron Pendel a couple of times. He was a young man no older than around twenty-five who easily sided with the Resistance against HIM. His looks were nothing really memorable. Good looking, but surely nowhere near as handsome as the Jojo brothers. He lacked the muscle, the charm. He seemed quite...soft. Passive with the way he laughed off matters. In a way, he reminded Brick of Boomer, but less of a charmer, less exciting, less...everything really. The Baron's dusty straight blonde hair and dark brown eyes coupled with his thin lips and wispy mustache were nothing incredible.

Despite what he looked like, the man supplied more than enough funds and manpower for the Resistance as he rallied the people within the district he lived in, a great amount for a Baron family. Surprisingly, his mother was from the Underground, she somehow got out as a teenager with no money, no power. Despite that, Baron Pendel's father, a young man at the time with a wild streak and strong sense of justice, married her with all the love a partner would want.

"He seemed quite taken with you. Honestly wouldn't shut his mouth about you. You fascinate the man." Esmond's eyes shifted to take Blossom in. "The amount of letters he's sent addressed to you is staggering, piling on my desk. I failed to remember them as I left the palace today."

She sat straight but Esmond could tell she was a bit flustered. Esmond intentionally had the Baron send his letters to the palace with the excuse that mail still had a hard time getting to the Underground. It was a lie of course, but Esmond felt like those letters would ruin his plans. Sitting unopened in a drawer in his desk, Esmond figured he would give them to Blossom one day in the far...far future.

Blossom honestly thought Baron Pendel was a sweet man, he had no true faults, but she felt as if he liked the idea of her. He expressed this interest before even getting to know her. The Baron did not know Blossom's flaws, her fears. Would he still want her when he learned of her past, the nightmares, the blood she sees in her dreams? The visions of her little red stained hands that pushed small silver daggers into the flesh of men who tried to pull her and her sisters into the bloody, dirty alleyways?

What would he say? Would he understand? She knew that she was afraid of letting him in.

"Quite a shame." Brick drawled. Unamused by the conversation, he tried his best not to sound upset, because why would ? He had no right to be mad.

"He is a nice man-" She started but paused. Her thoughts distracting her. Esmond powered through, he had to for the good of his cute future cousins.

"Yes, and quite wealthy for his young age. He seems loyal to me, I believe with time, I can confidently give a blessing as your King-"

"A blessing for what? Esmond, what is there to bless?" Brick interrupted, seemingly emotionless but Esmond caught it. That bubbling intrigue in those red eyes.

Esmond could tell he was confused, concerned. Right where Esmond wanted him.

Brick stared at Blossom, "Flower, may I ask what his proposal is? Excuse me if that is rude, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me."

Curiosity? Is that what we call jealously now? Oh and Flower? He calls her Flower? Interesting. Esmond took a mental note.

"It is nothing, he really didn't propose anything. He simply asked to speak over dinner. He is interested in opening a couple of stores here in the district and would like me to help get everything started." Blossom mumbled, looking at neither men in the room, but at her bloom that sat in front of her.

Seeing her shy away from them, from him lit something alight in Brick. After her staring at him nearly all day, it felt strange to not be able to meet her eyes.

Esmond breathed, something between a gasp and a laugh, "Now Aunty, you know that's not all he meant right? He was essentially asking for-"

"Courtship, he wants to court you." Brick mumbled. It was a dark sounding thing.

He didn't know how to feel about that. Rational thought screamed at Brick that he had no right to be upset. Blossom wasn't his lover, nor his wife. She was a friend, a comrade. One that he wanted to hold as she laid under him with her hair sprawled under her- Stop. The rational part of him said to stop such pining.

Esmond hummed seemingly aware of most of what fluttered through his uncle's head, 'So what is Brick Kingsley going to do?'

Blossom laughed, Esmond did not anticipate that.

"Well, he will be quite upset to know that will not happen." Blossom smiled to herself.

Brick felt his chest lighten, just a little. She sounded sure, resolute. Brick found himself feeling hopeful, of what? He felt he knew, and cursed himself. The way you want her, need her, won't happen. Stop being foolish.

"I've already got plans to stay here in this estate, forever." She smiled and looked into red eyes as she said it. No longer shying away, her expression looked calm despite the red of her cheeks.

Esmond almost let out a gasp. She's already ahead of me. I don't think I have to meddle at all. Well, not more than I already have.

Esmond felt like letting out a happy shout, he felt as if he could dance around the room without abandon. Not yet.

"Congratulations are in order then? Uncle, treat Aunty Blossom well. I may care for you, but if you hurt her heart, I will not hesitate to do what is necessary."

Blossom sat stunned and confused. Brick moreso.

Esmond decided it was time for the finishing blow, "My little cousins will be absolutely adorable, just as my siblings will be."

Then he skipped out of the room as if floating on air. Blossom and Brick thought the world must be ending.

"I- He. I think he- What just happened?" Blossom stuttered. Brick just blinked, sorting out all that happened.

"I believe he thinks we are getting married."

"Oh, but-" Blossom would later reflect on this moment and imagine (embarrassingly and almost mortifyingly) that her face must have looked quite hopeful as he said that. And siblings? What did he mean by that?

"Flower... Blossom. Will you allow me to make that true? Someday." Brick didn't know what he was doing. He did not know what to do. Maybe he was doing all of this wrong.

He knew he cared about her, but he was nervous. He'd never actually cared for anyone the way he did for Blossom. The feeling was strange, foreign. He felt if he didn't grasp her now she would be unreachable later. Foolish or not, he'd be the biggest fool if he didn't at least try.

Before, he felt undeserving of Blossom. But he knew he wanted her, needed her. What was once a subtle feeling now felt hot and flaming.

Was this love? He felt as if he could get sick from the feeling and healed all in the same instant.

"Yes, I'd love for it to be true...someday." It was almost a whisper. If his heart was beating any louder, he wouldn't have heard it.

Again, he wished her desk was closer, but in the meantime he decided that he would go to her. As he always will, forever.

The Jojo and Utonium siblings would all realize in the future that Blossom and Brick were the ones who escaped Esmond's clutches the fastest. He would say that it would have happened anyway, his plan for a massively large and "cute" family would be realized one way or another within reasonable and humane efforts, he assured.

Esmond didn't really realize when exactly his view of family changed. He didn't really know when he started to feel like was a part of one. The Utonium sisters made it easy, he supposed. They reached out, they listened, when no one else would.

The day he sat on that old swing, in that piss poor excuse of park, he questioned how he was going to live. He wanted revenge, and he was going to get it, somehow. But what then? What would he do after? Was it worth doing anything after?

His parents, (oh how he loathed calling him that) only ever said a few words to him. Only ever showed their backs. Never gave any warmth. Esmond, would later admit that honestly did not understand that he was being neglected. Abused. He was glad that he never mourned them, they were not deserving of it.

It wasn't until those three sisters smiled at him, spoke to him, clothed and fed him, that he felt like a human, like a child. Someone worthy of care. Sure, he always had a meal at the estate he lived called home (a cage would be a more fitting term to call it). The maids provided clean clothes. Drew his bath water, and even combed his hair.

But that was their job. He was raised by a nanny who barely acknowledged his birthday, a woman who gave him a smile that never reached her eyes. He knew the things they all said when they thought he wasn't near.

"They are creating monster. The boy feels nothing." They never gave him a reason to really feel anything.

Eyes were always on him. At times it was suffocating. The last time Esmomd cried in that house was when he was six. He'd gone looking for his mother in the gardens, somewhat excited to tell her how well he did in his lessons that day. He was running, he knew better. He'd fallen hard and attempted to catch himself only to badly scrape his hand on the jagged stone beneath him. His mother, that wench, slapped him countlessly for tripping over her skirt and dirtying it. Bloodying his clothes and hers as he tried to defend himself, dirt, tears and blood soiled his clothes that day.

The maids were never able to get the blood out of her dress. Quite a shame as it was one of her favorites.

After that day, he never let anyone in that house see him cry. He never approached his mother again either. The hate in her dull brown eyes simmered in his dreams, they never went away. Sometimes, he imagined plucking them out of her head, and painting them as if they were glass. Always purple, an amethyst mirroring his own. Bright and lovely before presenting them to her. Maybe then, she would be happy.

When Esmond first stared into Buttercup's eyes, he thought about how pretty they were. Bubble's and Blossom's too. How could they have such lively eyes? Though not the amethyst she wanted, Esmond thought that surely his mother would be envious of those three pairs eyes.

His father was no better than his mother. A prideful old man, old enough to be his mother's father, the man never really bothered acknowledging Esmond. Esmond never really acknowledged him either. At least, not as a father. He addressed the man as "Sir" as he was taught to. Nothing about their few encounters were warm.

Outsiders would have thought Esmond to be that man's servant with the way he dismissed the boy. No, servant was too personal, that man treated Esmond like a fly on a wall. Small, insignificant. Nothing worth sparing more than a glance at.

Sometimes, Esmond believed that his father wasn't actually his father. They looked nothing alike. The old man had more freckles and moles on his face than Esmond could count. While Esmond's eyebrows were full and thick, the man's brows were thin and sparse. Even their ears had different shapes. Though old, the red in the man's beard and in the head of hair the young portraits of the man (now gray and silver) littered around the home told Esmond that his father did not share his black hair.

Though his mother had dark hair, it wasn't the glossy black that Esmond sported. This mother has wide sunken eyes and a somewhat crooked nose, nothing like Esmond. They shared the same lips, and that was it.

Buttercup looked more like any mother or family he would ever have. Her sharp eyes, black wavy hair, and warmer skin made them look alike. Butch too. His dark hair that seemed to curl at stick out however it liked, and mischievous eyes favored the young king. Bubbles laughed once saying that if Esmond had green eyes, people would think her sister had a child.

Boomer would join in on the teasing, saying that Esmond might be Butch's secret love child. A wild claim given their respective ages. That's when Esmond would subconsciously call them his parents in his head. He figured, why not? They did all the things normal parents did. Butch even gave him an extremely blunt and somewhat awkward talk about what two people do when they felt certain things for each other. The older male had just started to delve into what a young man like Esmond would do to relieve stress before Esmond could hear Buttercup's laugh not too far away in the hall.

That's when the young king decided to tell his guardian that he knew everything he needed to know already to save them both from the embarrassment. Butch, though crass most of the time seemed to understand why Esmond hushed him, the amethyst-eyed boy's cheeks flushing suddenly as his face morphed from uncaring and uninterested to mortified.

Esmond thought he would never be able to look Buttercup in the eyes if she were to walk in on that conversation. It would just be devastating! The world would end. Surely, it would.

His mum hearing about that would ruin his life! Well, not really but that was beside the point. Either way, he vowed to make the talk as simple and embarrassing as he could for his future brothers and male cousins. That's when, Esmond believes he decided he acknowledged the subconscious want for a family. Siblings, cousins. Aunts and Uncles. Parents, real ones.