Know Your Place
Disclaimer: I own nichts ┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘
Beta read by: Mrs. RoseGold
Life wasn't exactly bliss for the three ruff boys. Complications… they seemed follow Brick and his brothers like bees to an unwashed honey pot. HIM hadn't exactly cared for the boys as he should have. Heck, many a times, the red skinned devil had even forgotten that he recreated them. And Mojo was no different; negligent, dismissive, self-absorbed, apathetic, and worst of all, irresponsible.
Brick stood defiantly in Mr. Lumpkin's abandoned forest cottage as he studied his brothers' nonchalant movements. Boomer, still struggling with his sense of belonging, found it exceedingly difficult choosing between a can of spray paint or soft pastels for his 'art project' whilst Butch- who was too busy raiding the half empty fridge for the umpteenth time that morning- failed to notice the dissatisfied moue etched on his eldest brother's face.
Recently, it didn't take much for Brick's proud grin to dishevel and flake out like his overused running sneakers. This time, it was a short announcement, no less than a minute, but long enough to piss him off. His eyes were clasped to the small retro screen as the effervescent news reporter stated that once again, the day was saved by the Powerpuff girls.
Disgusting! God did they annoy Brick. But he just stood there, unmoving, nerve wrecked and eyes still glued to that insidiously small television screen as the camera pans off to the pink streak traveling westwards. Why did he continue looking? Don't bother asking his brothers… Boomer was too busy trying to find matching socks to notice and Butch… was frowning at the three pale colored streaks that were now polluting the skies.
They were everywhere; there was no running, no hiding, and no escaping… just power puff brats in your face, 24/7 like a plague. Even as the breaking newscast was over and the Joey's burgers ad was now blaring loudly on the receiver, Brick still found himself in a state of inadequacy.
Frozen and in deep thought; that cagey, nimble mind of his had continued to dwell on the three history ignominies which haunted his very existence. Why did they get to him? Maybe he was just a sucker for pain. Maybe he enjoyed the feeling of nausea and heartburn. Maybe pain was all he knew, but for that moment, all he did was stare… then glare… at that half retarded, sorry excuse for a brother who somehow managed to mismatch his shoes without a care in the world.
Goddammit Boomer! Stop making yourself such an easy target. The next idiot was slouched over the front porch stairway with his head caught in-between the railings.
"Brick, Brick! Look Brick, now Butch is the stupidest!" Boomer squealed in glee as he made three successful steps towards the spiky haired bastard for further taunting. It was a shame though, he had forgotten to tie his laces a crashed straight into Brick's unusually stoic frame. The eight year old brute in turn, decided to roughly push his brother away before breaking the air with a loud, unhindered roar of laughter. Butch - head still stuck in the railing, Boomer - with one shoe kicked loose from impact, joined in the fun as they witnessed Brick holding his stomach in a childish fit of laughter.
No one bothered to ask old spike outside how he managed to get himself into that disturbing position, nor did anyone inform bubble boy that he wouldn't know his left from his right even if it kicked him in the ass, they just laughed. It was a pure act, rare but precious.
"In time, you will fall, and we will defeat you! So keep on your toes. Stay alert so watch your back, because the boys are back!"
Chapter II
He couldn't help but let his mind settle on the four famous words which he and his brothers were usually associated with: 'Vile, despicable, troublesome Ruffs'. For the second time this week, he felt empty, alone and emasculated. Why them? Why were they the apple of everyone's eyes? Why did they have to have everything? Why would things come so easily for them? Just why… why them and not him?
Brick deserved more. Heck, he believed in it. At the mere age of eight, he understood in entirety what 'fake it till you make it' meant. He was ready, eager, empowered, bold and a proud misogynist. Why wouldn't he have been? He never experienced a mother's love… or touch… or even glance. Townsville didn't love him and he wasn't mature enough to try to love them. So instead, he hated the power puff girls. It was their fault anyway. Besides, they weren't as good as everyone thought. They always fought dirty.
She … always fought dirty. If it wasn't the messy kisses, then her weapon of choice would be daunting mind games or those darn emasculating taunts. In Brick's still growing mind; she was cheap, dirty and untrustworthy; a stain for everything good. She had everything the boys wanted, wished for… dreamt of. It was unfair. She was just a worthless girl and Brick and his brothers were so much more. They … never had to opportunity… to be more than just … ruffs.
But screw that, he was made to end them… or something along those lines. It was what it was and he had no intention of changing their relationship.
Hate.
But he was okay with it, really he was. It was just her… something about her just made him go on his worst behavior. It irritated him. She... irritated him. She was in his class… or he was in hers, and all he could have done was sit down and plot…. Because two years ago, his shifty father had once held faith in him… that one day, the girls'll slip, they'll mess up … and the boys'll be there to finally dethrone those three entitled sissies.
-Ω-
"Boys will be boys," Marianne Smith sighed as Blossom complained about yet another sexual indecency act performed by her classmate, Harry Pitt. Someone - and that someone being Brick - had managed to get Harry to flip Blossom's skirt up during intermission. She of course, had no idea that the rowdyruff boys had anything to do with the incident. And how would she? They've been model students since they arrived.
It had been a little over a year since Brick and his two brothers were forced to attend Pokey Oak Elementary. It was only natural that the barely seven year old Blossom, alongside her sisters, became actively cautious of their actions. Hell, the girls even went as far as stalking the boys' every move- and it was disgusting. If it wasn't Boomer with his constant drooling or Butch with his nose picking, then it would be Brick and his incessant need to continue digging at his one too many scabs. Needless to say, the girls called 'quits' on their little impromptu stakeout a measly week later.
-Ω-
Brick sat relaxed at the seat of his desk, watching as Blossom had been brought to tears as Teacher Smith- who apparently still held a vendetta on the puff- dismissed her complaints yet again. Beside him, slept a carefree blonde with paint residue still active on his fingers and a bit on his messy bed hair, snoring. All the while oblivious to the uncanny stares he received from some of his female classmates.
Butch? Nowhere to be found, but Brick had faith that he was being inconspicuous with his thievery. The boys had it wrong in the past… the best heist should go unnoticed, untraceable and without consequences. Like now, as Blossom floated back to her seat, sobbing silently, as Buttercup snaked an arm around her neck and Bubbles took a firm, assuring grip or a small part of the red head's knee, they had no idea that Brick had been pulling strings since time immemorial.
Still, it wasn't enough. He hadn't enjoyed her pain yet. Her reactions weren't grandeur enough. The tears weren't long enough… she hadn't hurt enough. She… needed to know her place. She… needed to be pushed- no shoved- off that high pedestal everyone placed her on. He was better. His brothers were better. She should know that!
Hate.
Anger.
Jealousy.
Confusion.
-Ω-
"The red head…" Brick slurred, "You like her right?"
"Huh?" Mike questioned, his eyes looking at everywhere but Brick's … intimidating… frightful… condescending gaze. It was a wonder how two years could pass and not a single aspect of a person could change.
He was still mean, still cunning, still academically inept, still devious and still ruff. Sure, he kept his exploits secret – even going as far as covering up the fact that he and his brothers were solely responsible for the added monster invasions within the city- but he was far from good.
Brick wasn't evil… but heaven knows that he was the farthest thing from a saint. He chose his targets wisely. He studied them, manipulated them and used them. These elementary school students… his pawns … Townsville weren't ready for him… or his brothers. They'd grown so fine too. Butch was easily the strongest in his class, or maybe the year. Even Buttercup couldn't compete. She'd just sit there and moan at how Butch was stealing 'her thunder'. He remembered the time she literally cried when Butch's team won the football match –sans powers.
"You like her right?" Brick asked again… his voice grainier and more annoyed than before.
"Y-yeah I guess; Bubbles and Buttercup are cool too. And Bubbles is really ni-"
"I didn't ask you that!" Brick yelled, tapping the boy upside the head. Mike would have squirmed or even cried, if not for the presence of Mitchell Michelson and company besides him. They were in the locker room, post gym class. Boomer was in charge of clothes hiding duty, whilst Butch willingly towel spanked the boys who were fresh out of the shower. No one could deny the pleasure he took in hearing the girlish screams of students like Elmer Sglue and Wes Goingon. The evil demon was sporting his iconic grin after all and no one… not even Brick would dare tell him to stop.
But Brick was on a mission- step up, do more, hurt more; taunt more. He didn't have time to give his brothers the 'talk'. Matter of fact, he was pretty darn proud of the two little bastards… taking initiative like that. He'd expect that from Butch, but Boomer? Damn he grown.
"S-sure, I like Blossom. She's my friend." Michael shrunk. Really, you'd think that after two years, his confidence would have improved, but this was just ridiculous.
"Good!" Brick grinned and whispered simple 'life hacks' into the unsuspecting brunette's ear. Poor schmuck was almost fooled too- if not for the intrusion of a certain red ribbon girl. She was fuming and if Brick had seen it correctly, her eyes were magenta.
Rage.
Anger.
Fury.
Confusion.
"You!" she seethed. Her ridiculously long hair draped over her shoulders- wet and limp from her recent shower. Soaked was the top half of her collared dress and the floor which she walked on… a sad, wet puppy… that's what she looked like. Red ribbon missing and a red mane everywhere… the rarest sight of all: teed off Blossom.
"Geez toots!" Brick yelled out of embarrassment. Quickly, he snaked on his shirt and religiously did his buttons. "This is the boys' locker room. Got that? Boys!"
Magenta eyes narrowed at him, glowing sinisterly. "I know that!" She snarled venomously at him, spitting acid like a cobra. A wiser man would have backed down from the intense glare of the girl – but despite all of his talents – Brick was not always a wise man. So instead, he glared right back at the fuming girl in front of him.
His skin crawled at the childish roll of her oversized eyes. And with arms so distastefully folded beneath her chest; of course she'd roll her eyes. Naturally, there were boys ducking behind locker doors, and some forcing their way back into the showers in a cheap attempt to hide themselves from the girl. But Boomer had hid their clothes; the cheeky devil. It was embarrassing enough that they were almost naked in front of each other, but in front of a girl… in front of Blossom? No way!
"It was you all this time?" She yelled, completely ignoring the hopeless pleas from the unclothed boys that sauntered through room.
He of course lied, faked innocence and watched the frustration crawl all over that cheeky little face of hers until it made her puckered lips tighten and coil. He was only eight but he knew how much powers her lips held. Ice breath, emasculation and worst of all… kisses.
She cringed at all the disgusting pet names given to her as she tried to reclaim her ground. She heard what Brick said and it didn't take genius girl long to figure out that the reason she'd been assaulted at least four times a week was because Prince Uncharming here, was playing puppeteer and marionette with the innocent students. Once more, any faith she had in him was thrown out the window. It was as if he didn't even care. But why her? What did she ever do to him? Well, sure… they had a troubled past but he started it!
To answer his question of how she knew, she answered with a haughty 'super hearing', followed by her long awaiting insult of, "You three idiots aren't the only ones who have it."
"Idiots!" Boomer shouted from inside his locker…. Why he was in there… that wasn't the point, it was what he was about to say that changed the entire atmosphere of the room.
"We'll show you idiots." His form now visible as he managed to trip over the –completely out of the way- benches , Blossom couldn't help but snicker at his cute antics. Boomer was without a doubt adorable - and now it was pissing Brick off.
Brick slapped his face in defeat. "For the last time dummy, you can't say that without looking like a retard… Retard!"
"Oh yeah?" Blue eyes hollered, "What about Blossom? She walked in the boy's locker room!" He laughed and it was not without back up. It was all he needed, a nod from Brick ,and the a bit too rough nudge from none other than Butch to feel pride.
"I came here because of Brick." She stated matter-of-factly; even stomping her feet in the process.
"Ooh" Boomer laughed, "Brick's got a girlfriend."
"Ooh," Butch joined, "Princess is going to be so jealous."
"You… two… God! Shaddup!" And in a fit of rage, he shot three streams of laser beams towards the poor, unsuspecting Blossom.
"Um… Brick," the boy remembered hearing Boomer say, "That was a bad idea."
And within moments, insignificant puff one and two appeared with hands swinging and feet kicking. Well, it wasn't hard to figure out who won the fight that day. Just the sight of Blossom's mold in between debris was enough to send Buttercup in a hissy fit- charging at Butch first… because it was natural. The poor ginger girl, crumpled under the broken wall's structure, could only stare at her bloodied hands in dismay. Brick had done this... Why? But even after Brick suffered a broken jaw and few dislocated bones here and there he smiled, because for a second… for a minuscule inch of a second, those insipid little rodents learnt their place.
Why?…
The voice continued… circling; echoing. He- still ignoring… remembering.
Special Thanks to Mrs. RoseGold on cleaning up my ending, really, it wouldn't have been this smooth if it wasn't for her very generous input.
Thank you all for your support.
~N. Risa
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