Disintegration

-x-

A Powerpuff Girls Fanfiction

Written by KazunaPikachu

-x-

He was made for her – but she didn't need him; she was his purpose – but he wasn't hers; she was the reason why he existed – but she didn't want him. If he couldn't have her, then he'd make sure no one could – because if he couldn't take her breath away, he'll take away all the reasons that do.

-x-

A/N: Welcome to a BlossomxBrick fanfiction! :) Did you like my summary? I'm personally pleased with the irony and double meanings of it :D

Anyway, enough personal gloating. I hope you enjoy the story! :) It's rather Brick-centric, but who doesn't like Brick? :3 This is rated for violence, language and mature, psychological themes. It's also rather dark. You have been warned :)

Oh, and before I forget – this story also contains Dexter Boy Genius from Dexter's Laboratory. I like Dexter. Don't forget that. Now continue! :D

-x-

I was made to destroy you.

That was how it was supposed to be.

Brick was only a few hours old but he looked about five in appearances. Not that he really cared, anyway, because how was he supposed to know that he was abnormal?

Instead, he stared at the photograph clasped in his hands. It depicted three young girls – a redhead, a blonde and one with raven-coloured hair, soaring through the skies towards the one who was holding the camera at the time. Confident determination shone through their large, bug-like eyes and behind them followed a stream of pink, blue and green colours – side by side like the colours of a rainbow.

"These are your enemies and your enemies are these," he remembered a particular, mutated monkey saying as he gave each of them – his brothers – the photos. "You were created for one purpose and for one purpose only were you created. These despicable, tiny, little girls are the reasons for your existence – for I, Mojo Jojo, brought you to existence in order to destroy them – the Powerpuff Girls."

But even as his 'father's' words echoed inside his head, Brick couldn't help but stare at the girl that both centred and dominated the photograph.

"This particular one," Mojo Jojo had indicated to him specifically with bitter vile in his tone, "is the most troublesome of the three. She is your purpose – no other purpose have you but she. Your task is to annihilate her cursed existence from this world, so the world – namely I, Mojo Jojo – need not suffer her wretched accursedness."

"What is her name?" he had then whispered, eyes glued to the redhead with bright, pink eyes. His voice was husky – despite his apparent youth – but perhaps it was because he hadn't gotten used to it yet.

His answer came through disgusted, sneering lips as Mojo Jojo spat spitefully, "Blossom."

Brick continued to stare at the picture.

He took note of her bright orange hair – and observed that his own hair was the exact same shade and tone. He took notice of her round, pink eyes – and knew that his own gaze, although a darker shade of red, was identical too. He noted her preference to the varying shades of crimson in her clothing style – and realized that he had been born the same.

His hands clenched tightly, crumpling the photograph in his fists.

He was created for her? He was made for her? His very existence was because of her?

What a joke.

"Brick!" a voice echoed, snapping him out of his dark musings. "Yo, the monkey says it's time!" The voice belonged to an energetic Butch – who he knew by instinct was one of his brothers. He flew into the room – their room, which was located inside an observatory situated on top of a volcano – and grinned with malicious excitement as he said, "We're gonna finally meet them, bro. We're gonna get our chance at the Powerpuff Girls."

Brick didn't hesitate; if nothing else, he had one thing in common with this particular brother – he shared the same desire, the same urge, to maim and to destroy and to riot and to rampage… especially when it involved a special group of three little girls. His lips twisted upwards in a smirk and he incinerated the photograph in his glowing crimson hands within an instant.

That wimpy, stupid, sissy-looking girl? The reason why he was born?

It was just so incredibly ridiculous.

"Let's go," Brick grinned, "and rid the world of the Powerpuff Girls –"

So laughable that Brick felt something wretched bubbling inside his belly.

"so we can show 'em all, everyone who'll look down on us –"

Because he couldn't have been made just for her –

"that we aren't just stupid copies –"

Surely he wasn't worth so low –

"and that we're the Rowdyruff Boys!"

Because he was a Rowdyruff Boy – and since their purpose was to destroy them, wasn't it then guaranteed that they were better than them?

So Brick wouldn't have it – he wouldn't be thought of as inferior to someone with such a fickle, feeble name as Blossom.

He would destroy her, just to prove to the world: that Brick was no copy – and that his soul did not belong to her.

-x-

And I glared into your eyes while you gazed into mine.

I was meant to hate that unnatural pinkness.

He couldn't remember what it was like being dead – he couldn't quite remember how he'd died, either.

All he remembered was the feeling of triumphant tranquillity being shattered as panic, rage and strange confusion consumed him – oh, and he also remembered the soft press of foreign lips against his cheek, gone as quickly as a hummingbird from a person's sight.

But that was it. Afterwards, there was a terrible surge of pain, and then blackness.

That is, until Him revived them.

They learned from Him that the Powerpuff Girls' kisses had overpowered them – had made their bodies – prone to infections, as it were – to blow up. But shortly after their revival, the dark being had given them all something called a 'cootie shot,' swearing that the power of those 'kisses' would no longer damage them but make them stronger.

To say that Brick felt empowered was one thing – to say that he felt completely ashamed was another.

A kiss. A kiss. Not a punch or a kick or even a laser beam through the heart – but a bloody kiss.

It… made him doubt, just as much as it made his hatred burn. They were created to destroy them, were they not? So why were they undone… by a chaste, innocent act of meek affection? In a single move, Brick's body had heated up, his vision went blurry, and he'd felt his heart beating so loudly that it threatened to leap out of his rib cage.

It was no wonder why they exploded.

As the three brothers flew towards where they sensed the Powerpuff Girls were, Brick allowed his anger and spite to build, all the while ignoring the quiet whisper in his soul. He wouldn't acknowledge its presence – not now. Not when he had his chance at vengeance and could taste it on his tongue.

When they finally appeared before the girls, however, it wasn't hard to shove the doubts and uncertainties to the very depths of his mind. They were – she was – mocking them – him. Their lack of fear made Brick's blood boil and their dismissive attitude only added salt to the wound. How dare they? It didn't help that his idiot of a brother – the dumbest of the two, anyway – made comments that further credited their mockery. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid Boomer.' So he was glad when they finally engaged into combat – like the green 'Puff said: talk was cheap.

It might have been instinct – or an undeniable pull – but each of them ended up fighting their counterparts. Boomer against Bubbles, Butch against Buttercup… and Brick against Blossom.

They didn't exchange further words. They charged at each other, throwing punches and kicks. The adrenaline that coursed through Brick's blood made him inwardly smile with glee, because even though he loathed her, she was the only one who could make him feel so free.

Perhaps she was worthy of being his counterpart – but of course, she wouldn't be able to overpower him. Not this time.

And when his punches were true, when damage was dealt, when he heard her cries of pain, euphoria had burst inside Brick's body like the effects of a drug and he thought: 'This is how a fight is meant to be. If you mean to damage, you damage. None of that kissing crap.'

Because kissing symbolized affection.

So whenever she kissed him, it angered him – because her kisses were empty.

Her kisses were completely and utterly empty and he loathed it, perhaps even more than he hated her.

He didn't know why.

He didn't want affection from a stupid girl.

The combined blasts of the Powerpuff Girls' and the Rowdyruff Boys' powers collided, creating a huge explosion of fire and smoke. The girls regrouped for a second, whispering something to each other, and then they turned back to the Rowdyruff Boys with coy smirks on their faces.

Brick stiffened and grunted to his brothers, "Here it comes."

Boomer and Butch secretly snickered.

They didn't really even try to dodge the girls' 'attacks,' although Brick desperately wanted to. He cringed when she kissed him – because even though he'd had his 'cootie shot,' his heart still leapt and his head still spun. Whether it was from absolute rage or something else he didn't want to ask.

Just as Him said, their kisses did not destroy them like they did last time. Instead, Brick could feel himself growing, and as the girls kept kissing them, they kept growing even larger.

'Who's the stupid one now, Blossom?'

When the girls finally caught on, it was already too late. The boys towered over them completely and Brick felt a sick feeling of satisfaction when finally – finally – fear registered in their multi-coloured eyes. He stared down at Blossom in particular; she tried to put on a brave face but her trembling lips gave away her anxiety and apprehension.

'Yes, that's right – fear me.'

Because he was created to hate her – and therefore, he wanted nothing from her but her fear.

He didn't want her gentle touches. He didn't want her displays of affections – false or otherwise. He didn't want any of that.

He wanted to destroy her.

Because when she looked at him without the fear tainting her eyes, he felt funny inside; when she looked at him without the hate, he felt rather strange. It was as if she was defying the natural order of things, as if she was fighting fate – being a rebel to the world that governed their lives like a puppet show.

Because they were meant to hate each other, weren't they?

So how come… she didn't seem to hate him?

Sure, she fought him, but there was an absence of true loathing in her eyes… and Brick couldn't help but wonder why.

Was her purpose not the same as his?

So he wanted to destroy her – because her existence confused him, because when she smiled he couldn't help but be transfixed; because he kind of liked her rebellion, her passive act of defiance, to what he thought was law.

As he gazed down at her tiny, insignificant form, he resolved to push his doubts aside. But it was already too late: a single, careless thought had already been buried inside his head and would act as the seed to everything that would undo them, or perhaps complete him:

If she didn't need to hate him… then perhaps he didn't need to hate her either – because if she could defy fate, then surely he could too?

-x-

I don't know when it started, but it did.

I began to crave you.

Time went by – years, even – with the rivalry between the Powerpuff Girls and the Rowdyruff Boys as heated as ever.

On one particular day, however, everything seemed to change.

It started off as nothing out of the ordinary – the Rowdyruff Boys confronted the Powerpuffs and a battle between them quickly began. However, it seemed that the boys had chosen a rather touchy time to intervene in their lives. Blossom, always the level-headed one out of the three, was the first to attack. The boys hadn't started the fight – in fact, it was still in that spiteful banter stage – when she gave a scathing remark and rocketed upwards, landing a painful punch to Brick's unsuspecting face. He was outraged that she was the one to hit him first but at the same time, he was baffled. She was usually the one to avoid a fight if possible and there she was, initiating it.

After her first blow, the others quickly followed and each 'Ruff and 'Puff was lost to each other as they engaged into combat.

What surprised Brick even more was that, instead of the quiet exchange of blows they usually had, Blossom was actually quite chatty. She glared at Brick with heated spite and he was shocked at how much he liked her furious expression.

It was rather refreshing, since she was always so in control all the time.

"I'm sick and tired of you, Brick!" Blossom had screamed at him while throwing a right punch. "It's getting so repetitive! You come, we argue, then we fight! No side wins and we just end up going home with wounds! I'm sick of it!"

Although he would never admit it, he was rather hurt by her words. Every day his thoughts were filled of how to destroy her, his body always fidgety with impatience and excitement at the prospect of battling with her again – perhaps of seeing her again? So when she said that she was sick of it, he was both pained and angry – how could she be sick of something he craved?

"Well, too bad, toots," he replied with equal venom. "We ain't gonna leave you alone until you're gone. So just die already!" He sent her a roundhouse kick and it made a solid impact against her stomach. She flew – and not the way she usually did – away from him and crashed against the nearest building. Brick expected her to stay down for a couple of seconds, at least, so when she immediately flew back towards him and landed a massive punch as retribution, he was caught off guard.

He crashed to the ground and before he had time to recover, Blossom body slammed into him, holding him down with her weight as she sent a flurry of punches to his face. "You're an idiot, Brick! I'm never going to leave, or die, so does that mean we have to do this forever? Boys are idiots! Idiots! You picked the wrong day to mess with me!"

Brick caught her fists and stared up at her. She was panting heavily and her large, pink eyes were clouded over by rage… and pain? They were rather moist – teary, even. As he gazed up at her, she seemed rather dishevelled, a little distressed.

What was wrong with her?

"… Get off me!" He shoved her away from him and stood up, wiping away the blood that trickled out of the corner of his mouth. He glared at her as she simply sat there in the middle of the town's road, trying to control her hazardous breathing pattern. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

She looked up at him with fury in her eyes. "It's not like you would understand."

"What?" Brick mocked with a sneering smirk. "Did you get dumped or something?"

Her eyes widened and then narrowed; her fists balled tightly by her sides and she stood up sharply. "Don't be ridiculous," she spat.

But Brick wasn't stupid.

The moment he said those words, her gaze had clouded over with pain and sadness… and he recognized that look to be one of heartbreak.

After realizing this, an outbreak of questions bombarded his mind.

When did this happen? How did this happen? Why hadn't he noticed her change of behaviour prior to this day? Why hadn't he wondered about the way she so energetically fought him with a smile on her face? Why hadn't he noticed how she practically glowed?

And who was this guy? Why would he dump a girl like her? Was he out of his mind? Who was this asshole? Had they… kissed? Had Blossom kissed him with true affection? When she kissed him, were her kisses empty like the ones she gave Brick?

He had no right to be, but for some reason, jealousy surged inside his body and he glared even more darkly at the Powerpuff. He crossed his arms and forced a spiteful smile to his face. "Heh. I can't blame him. I mean, who would want to be with you?"

He could've sworn that she'd growled at him as she said, "Excuse me?"

"Seriously – you're dull and you're boring. What's even worse is that you're bossy and you're so up-yourself. Truthfully, I'm not surprised, babe."

"Your opinion is worthless to me, so just shut up!" She charged at him again, her narrowed gaze reflecting her fury. She lifted up her fist for a punch but Brick deftly caught it. Enraged, Blossom threw out her other fist – with the same result. Brick caught it and, with both of her hands clasped tightly in his, he yanked her forward towards him and stole a kiss – a kiss on her lips.

He didn't do it because he liked her, oh no. He hated her guts, remember? But he also hated the thought of her being with another guy. After all, Brick devoted his every thought to her destruction – in other words, he never stopped thinking about her. So it infuriated him to know that Blossom wasn't doing the same. Instead, her mind was off in la-la land, thinking about another boy – a boy that wasn't him. It made him so angry that he just had to get his revenge on her – and if it was by an empty kiss, then so be it.

The foreign contact of their lips immediately shocked the pink Powerpuff and she gasped. Even though Brick hadn't ever kissed anyone before (because seriously, it was rather gross), he instinctively pushed through her parted lips with his tongue, which surprised them both.

She tasted nice… and Brick couldn't help but like their close proximity. After all, they were never this close unless they were beating the crap out of each other. So it was rather enjoyable… to be touching her and not being in pain – and not inflicting pain on her either.

The thought shocked him more than the kiss and he abruptly pulled back.

What did he just think…?

Did he really just think…?

"… Brick?"

He snapped his gaze towards her – her face was adoringly flushed, her cheeks reddened and her eyes glazed. He glanced at her lips – they were moist. His heart was pounding again and he cursed it. "Don't get me wrong," he managed to say despite the frenzied state of his mind. He locked eyes with her and said rather snidely, "Call it payback, toots."

Why, why, why, why, why?

What was wrong with him?

When she still continued to stare at him with that baffled expression, his anger increased. "Stop looking at me like that!" He rushed forwards and delivered a punch to the same face he had kissed – because he couldn't stand her looking at him like that anymore. "I told you, didn't I? It didn't mean anything! None of them mean anything! So just fight me!"

"Hey! Leave Blossom alone!"

Brick looked up just in time to see two Powerpuffs diving towards him, a fierce protectiveness in their eyes. Brick narrowly dodged their simultaneous hits, their fists causing a mini-crater to form in the middle of Townsville's road where he once stood. When he jumped back, his own brothers landed beside him, one on either side. Brick glanced at them – they were beaten up and their breathing was haggard.

Buttercup and Bubbles landed in front of the fallen Blossom, taking a defencive stance. Blossom herself was gently clasping her head, still reeling from the punch Brick had given her… and perhaps something else as well. "Just give it up and leave us alone already!" Buttercup sneered. "Today's not a good day for us to play with you!"

Brick glared at them but once again scrutinized the condition of his brothers. They had taken a massive beating and didn't look to be capable of much of a fight anymore. He inwardly grumbled at their weakness and declared tightly, "Fine, we'll leave for now. You girls just got lucky today." His crimson eyes met with Blossom's – something passed between them but even Brick could not decipher what. So instead he sneered and said, "See ya" before flying off, his brothers following quickly after.

He left, knowing that his actions were irreversible… and wondering what the hell any of it meant.

Wondering if he even wanted to know.

-x-

I never thought I'd see the day…

When I didn't want you to fade away.

They stopped fighting.

On one hand, the Powerpuff Girls got sick of the pointless battles that led to nowhere.

On the other, the Rowdyruff Boys realized that even though they were created to destroy them… they didn't really want to. Not anymore.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Brick who was the first to realize this.

It began with the slow disintegration of simply their desire to annihilate them. They still fought them, sure, and they always looked to pick a fight. But as the years wore by and the battles continued, they began to lack the enthusiasm to completely destroy them. In the cases where they'd actually won, they never dealt the finishing blow. They simply gloated and laughed, then flew away, leaving their broken bodies on the road. Both Him and Mojo Jojo had confronted them about this – and while Brick remained tongue-tied, it was actually Butch who voiced out the reason why:

"Because fighting them is fun… and if they're gone, then what'll we do, huh?"

That single statement hit Brick like a tonne of… bricks. Because it was true – and it confirmed his deepest fears.

That they were created for the Powerpuff Girls… and because of that, they could not destroy them.

Because if they did… wouldn't their lives then become redundant?

He was created for her. He was made for her. His very existence was because of her.

It wasn't a joke.

And if they disappeared – if Blossom disappeared – then what was the point of their existence – what was the point of Brick's?

He hated to admit it because his pride was too big – why should his purpose be for another? For a girl at that? But he couldn't deny it, not anymore – especially since his brothers felt the exact same way.

It was cruel irony, wasn't it? They were made to destroy them, but they couldn't – because if they did, they'd end up destroying themselves.

That was the curse of being made as someone else's counterpart.

The counterpart could not destroy the original – because they needed them for them to live.

Brick didn't know if this revelation made him hate Blossom even more – he was rather unclear on that matter. With his newfound knowledge, however, he could imagine the day he finally destroyed her with uncanny clarity. At first, he would feel a sense of undeniable triumph and accomplishment – however, after that euphoria finally died down, he'd then wonder what the hell he was meant to do, now that his life's purpose was achieved. He would think about the one he destroyed… and would wish that he hadn't taken away her last breath.

Because it was only with Blossom that he felt truly free; it was only with Blossom that he truly felt alive; it was only with Blossom that Brick felt like his life had any meaning.

Otherwise, it would be empty.

And he hated anything that was empty.

So they stopped seriously fighting them, because they realized that they didn't need to – didn't want to. Instead, they picked fights for simple fun, and eventually, tried to get closer to them by stopping altogether. After the revelation, their original goal – their original promise – seemed to fade away until it was all but buried deep inside them.

The Powerpuffs were suspicious at first – they wanted to know the reason for their change of heart. But they wouldn't tell them – they still had their pride as males, so it took years for the truce between them to finally form and by the time they entered high school, they were rather civil towards each other considering. Boomer and Bubbles were on good terms especially, while Butch and Buttercup found familiar solace in their mock battles. Blossom would regard Brick with cool suspicion, however slowly she began to relax around him too.

And it was in a rare unguarded moment that Brick realized something else.

That perhaps he didn't hate her at all… and he needed her more than simply as a means to live.

For him to love a Powerpuff Girl… now that would really be spitting in the face of fate.

And being the rebellious troublemaker that he was… Brick was rather tempted to.

Especially if it meant that she would continue to smile at him like that, without the fear and the caution – since for a brief and single moment, she seemed to be focused on Brick and Brick only.

And he wanted to keep her that way… because really, it was only fair.

-x-

I realized that I wanted you.

But it was foolish to hope, because I knew – that the relationship between you and I was not a two-way street.

After they got over their little childish feud, Brick tried his hardest to be the largest part of Blossom's life. You see, he only wanted to make things fair between them, to make their feelings mutual. And for a while, it worked. He became one of her trusted friends and she would look to him whenever her sisters could not help her – not an easy task, since their very personalities repelled each other.

So for a short while, at least, he was… content. He wasn't at the centre of her world but at least he was at its ridges.

But then he tried to make his move on her – and everything just began to disintegrate.

Blossom was at Brick's apartment, tutoring him on their upcoming science test. But instead of paying attention to what she was saying, his eyes were glued to her lips. He could still remember what they tasted like and he wondered if the taste had changed after all these years. Perhaps he could test it out? Surely their relationship was good enough for that, at least? Not being one to control his impulses (he'd controlled them for long enough, he'd think), Brick leaned over their textbooks, grabbed her face in his calloused hands and moulded his lips against hers – it was such a perfect fit. Why wouldn't it be? After all, he was made for her.

She immediately stiffened but instead of pushing him away, she let him kiss her – however, she did not return it. Her cold reaction baffled him and Brick pulled back, surprised to be staring into her glaring eyes.

"Brick… what was that?" she asked, her tone carefully controlled.

"What do you mean, babe?" he asked, trying to hide his sudden insecurities with a flirtatious smirk. "I just wanted to give you a little smooch."

"You told me that you only wanted me over to help you on the science test… so what are you playing at?" Her old suspicion was back and she sat there in front of him warily, ready to leap up on a moment's notice.

Brick returned her glare with his own crimson gaze and sat back, casually resting his arms against his crossed legs. "I'm just playing with you, Bloss. What, did you think that kiss meant something?" He didn't know why he was saying it. He was just being defencive – there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that only grew worse when she continued to stare at him so impassively – like the kiss really didn't mean anything to her.

Which he would not accept, because kissing her meant everything to him.

His words made her relax a little – but only slightly. She was still glaring at him with mild anger. "You can't just do that, Brick. You can't just randomly kiss a girl whenever you feel like it – just because you wanted to 'play.' I'm not one of those girls."

Brick's gaze darkened. "I never 'play' like that with other girls. Never." Because like he said – he hated empty kisses; and the thought of kissing a girl other than Blossom, the thought of a girl other than Blossom kissing him, repulsed him to his very core. If another girl ever did kiss him, he would have to repress the urge to kill her.

Blossom's eyes widened. His words, his gaze… What was he trying to tell her? However, being the scholar student that she was, it didn't take long for her to decipher his actions. "Brick… you don't actually…?"

And because Brick was her counterpart, he knew that she was catching on. But he'd never admit to anything out loud, ever, because never once had he even admitted it in his mind. So he simply shrugged carelessly, pretending innocence – Brick, innocent? Now that was a joke – and grunted dismissively, "What, Blossom?"

She stared at him with those large pink eyes and Brick was both angered and anxious to see the pity in her gaze. Why was she looking at him like that? She reached out and touched his arm gently. "Brick… I'm sorry, but I don't like you in that way."

Brick stiffened and slapped her hand away, as if it offended him. "I didn't say anything, did I?" he suddenly snarled, glaring at her with a ferocity that reminded them both of the old days. "Stop jumping to conclusions! You're just embarrassing yourself, idiot."

Blossom wasn't sure what to make of his reaction so she hesitantly asked, "So it's okay if we just stay as friends?"

Brick tried his hardest not to hit her – an urge he hadn't felt in years. "Of course," he managed to grit out. "I never asked for anything more." Then he abruptly stood and harshly pulled her up to her feet as well. "I don't feeling like studying anymore," he said coldly. "So you can leave."

The Powerpuff's eyes widened and she stuttered in confusion, "H-Huh? But we haven't even gone through half of this term's wo-"

"I'll be fine," Brick said, forcing a smile. "Thanks for your help, Bloss. I'll see you tomorrow." Then he almost literally kicked her out of his apartment block, ignoring her look of confusion. Once she was out, Brick dropped his mask and immediately went into his room. He slammed the door behind him with such a force that it broke off from its hinges.

She didn't like him in that way.

She didn't want him in that way.

She didn't want anything that he had to offer, aside from his trivial, worthless friendship.

Brick's ears rang with frustration and rage, wanting so badly to blow something up. If he was his old self, he would've, but with his current relationship with the Powerpuff Girls, resorting back to the violence-loving troublemaker he was would ruin everything.

And he didn't want that. Because sure, Blossom didn't want him in the same way he wanted her, but it was alright. It was still alright.

Brick forced himself to calm down.

Because if he was still her friend, it meant that he still had a purpose, a value, in her life.

And perhaps, maybe, that would be enough for him.

Maybe.

-x-

I always heard that love and hate fell side by side.

Perhaps I understand that.

Brick hated it with a passion.

He hated how his brothers got along so freakin' well with their own counterparts. Boomer's stupidity was seen as 'sweet' to the blonde Powerpuff. Butch's aggressiveness matched the green 'Puff's spunk. They were compatible and he loathed it.

Because what did he and Blossom have?

He was temperamental, egotistic, violent and sarcastic. Blossom was level-headed, humble, peaceful and honest. Why were they not compatible, when the others were?

Was the whole freakin' world unfair or was it only to Brick that they played their cruel games on?

He brooded there at his table at the back of the class, drilling holes into his brothers' heads as they conversed/argued freely with the Powerpuff sisters. Then he glanced towards the front, where Blossom sat, sitting attentively as she waited for the science class to start. See? Why were they so far apart, even in a stupid class?

He wanted to fight fate – but damn, fate was a bitch when it was fighting back.

"Attention, everyone," the teacher spoke as she walked into the classroom. Everyone became silent at her command and Brick mentally snorted in derision. "We have a new student today," she said with a pleasant smile. "Come on in, Dexter."

The door to the science labs opened and a redhead with large, blue-tinted glasses walked in, his back straight and his demeanour confident. He stood in front of the class with his hands clasped behind his back. "My name is Dexter," he said in an even tone, his eyes sweeping the people he would call his classmates. "Please take care of me."

When he was told to take his seat somewhere in the middle of the classroom, Dexter began walking towards it. However, he had only taken three steps before he somehow managed to trip on air; he sprawled forward and crashed to the ground in an undignified heap. Brick sniggered aloud, along with a few others – what an idiot.

His snickering abruptly stopped, however, when Blossom immediately stood up and helped Dexter to his feet. With his super-hearing, he heard her ask him quietly, "Are you okay, Dexter?"

The young man glanced at Blossom and, even though Brick was sitting at the back (and who cared if he had super-sight), he could still see the blush that smeared Dexter's cheeks the moment his eyes landed on the Powerpuff. "Y-Yes, I'm quite alright. Thank you for your assistance…?"

Blossom, being so close to him, blushed as well. "Blossom."

Dexter offered her a shy smile. "It's a lovely name, Blossom," he whispered to her quietly.

Then suddenly, there was a wolf-whistle coming from a member of the class – from Butch, to be specific. "Oooh, lookie here! We've got ourselves a couple of lovebirds!"

"Shut up, Butch!" Buttercup shouted, although she couldn't help but secretly agree. Bubbles giggled girlishly.

Immediately, Blossom and Dexter flushed and they pulled apart – since, apparently, they were still holding on to each other. "It was nice that you helped your new classmate, Blossom," the teacher said patiently with a smile on her face. "But perhaps you'd both like to take your seats now?"

The two nodded hastily, not looking at each other, and took their respective seats. Throughout the lesson, Dexter would constantly glance at the back of Blossom's head, and Blossom would constantly blush because she could see him doing it in her enhanced peripheral vision.

And at the back of the class, Brick was simply simmering with barely controlled rage.

He didn't like the looks of the new kid… and he definitely didn't like the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Not one bit at all.

Then as an afterthought, he reminded himself to kill Butch when the lesson was over.

-x-

I wanted you so badly that it would hurt.

I wanted you so badly that I would hurt others too.

Blossom, of course, had many prospective suitors – but Brick never had any trouble chasing them away. After all, who would dare mess with the leader of the Rowdyruff Boys? They may have turned a new leaf but they sure as hell weren't people you could mess with – and expect to come out unharmed.

He thought – he hoped – that this 'Dexter' boy would be just as easily scared away.

And since he wasn't from Townsville, he had to put on a rather good scare (otherwise, his reputation itself scared others away).

He trapped Dexter behind the school building on the way to another class. He pressed him against the wall effortlessly with a single hand, staring into the other boy's eyes impassively. "Do you know who I am?"

It surprised him when the nerd didn't seem intimidated in the slightest. "Of course I do," he said calmly despite his precarious position, pushing up his glasses with a finger. "Your name is Brick, the leader of the Rowdyruff Boys. I've read the student profiles of every person enrolled in this school."

That information didn't anger him as much as it did knowing that Dexter had asked for Blossom's name even though he'd already known. 'What a creep.' "Okay then, so you know who I am – therefore, you should also know that I won't hesitate to break every single bone in your body if you don't follow what I say." He held Dexter's stare and said darkly, "I'm giving you one warning: stay away from her."

Dexter knew who he was referring to and he wasn't surprised at his threat either. Instead, he snickered. "You obviously don't know who I am. Let me say this so even a brute like you can understand…" He gazed into Brick's eyes with a strangely familiar defiance. "I am not afraid of villains like you."

Brick clenched his hand around the fabric of Dexter's shirt. He hated this guy's guts – because for some reason, he had the aura of a hero. "Whatever – I don't care about your brave front," Brick replied gruffly, glaring at him with scathing spite. "Just remember: go near her again and I won't let you off so easily. Now fuck off." He shoved the kid away from him and turned his back, walking away with his hands in his pockets.

-x-

I wanted to see you smile, but only if it was for me.

Otherwise, I wanted to wipe it off, even if I had to hit you.

And his feeling was right –

Dexter was a hero.

He fought crime in Townsville side by side with the Powerpuff Girls.

In his previous city, he was known as Dexter, the Boy Genius.

And he would fight for justice with his mechs and would be the fall of villains with his superior intellect.

He was getting closer and closer to Blossom and Blossom didn't seem willing to push him away.

Because they were so compatible, you know? They were both heroes, they were both intelligent – they shared common interests in science and justice. He was kind, she was nice; he was a perfectionist and she liked it. Wasn't it obvious that they'd fall in love? Didn't the whole populace predict it?

And poor, poor Brick, he was fading into the background. Blossom never glanced at him more than necessary anymore. She never turned to him for help and never offered her own unless she was asked. She was walking away from him, her eyes set on the horizon, leaving him behind. She found a purpose that definitely did not centre him – let alone involved him. She was freeing herself from his iron grip and, and –

And Brick felt like he was going insane.

He couldn't even lay a hand on Dexter. If he directly picked a fight with a hero, then he'd immediately be labelled as a villain – and then Blossom would be out of his reach forever.

So what was he to do?

What was he to do? What was he to do?

And when he saw them together, Blossom's smile shining like the sun as Dexter proposed to her, he realized that there was only one thing he could do –

Only one thing he wanted to do –

It was about time he started being a Rowdyruff again.

-x-

I'll take them away.

I'll take away all the reasons for you to smile… since you cannot smile for me.

Once he made his mind up, it was rather easy to do. He fell back into villainy like it was his long-lost home.

He really wasn't cut out for that good boy bullshit.

He did it quietly. Although he preferred to do things loudly and without restraint, he wanted to surprise the wife-to-be. Or should he say the ex-wife-to-be?

Finding out where they lived wasn't hard to do at all. Even if Blossom hadn't bothered, he'd kept tabs on her. After Dexter had proposed to her, she'd moved in with him in his exclusive apartment complex – so of course he knew where they lived; he knew everything about Blossom.

Then while she was away for her day-time work, Brick had knocked on their door. Dexter, who he knew worked at home in his personal lab, answered him.

And then it was a slaughter-fest.

But a quiet one, of course. It had to be, for it to be a surprise for that darling little 'Puff.

Once Dexter had opened the door, Brick had rushed forwards, grabbing Dexter's face with his hand around his mouth and closing the apartment door behind him within a blink of an eye. But you should never underestimate the glasses-wearing scientist – he was a genius, after all. He'd known, through the surveillance camera at their front door, who exactly was knocking and had prepared countermeasures just in case he was attacked.

But it was all for naught. He didn't stand a chance against the unstoppable force that was Brick.

While still holding Dexter up by his head, Brick destroyed all the defencive systems that had a lock on him with his laser beams. He then singlehandedly wasted all of Dexter's robots with quick explosions of power. Once he was through with them, he then glanced at Dexter, who was desperately fidgeting with something that looked like a watch on his wrist. Instantly, with his other hand, Brick grabbed the watch himself and clenched, breaking the watch and Dexter's wrist – bones and all – simultaneously.

Dexter's scream of pain was muffled, seeing as Brick's hand still covered his mouth.

With all other distractions out of the way, Brick pulled Dexter closer to him, making him look him in the eye. He held Dexter's head between both his hands and said, "I'm not going to let you live any longer than this sentence, because I know you'll have another trick up your sleeve – but I just want to say one thing: you should've taken me a whole lot more seriously."

Then Brick's hands glowed a dangerous red and he squeezed them together, Dexter's soundless scream cut short as his head began to fry and, under Brick's enormous strength, was crushed like grape.

The blood splattered all over him, all over the pristine silver carpet and the white-blue walls. Brick dropped Dexter's body – with his flattened, burnt, broken, bloody head – onto the carpet and stared at his hands.

They were covered in blood and gore.

And he loved it.

Then he waited for Blossom to come home. He sat behind Dexter's body, facing the door, and because he was bored just waiting there, he began to break the dead man's fingers. He liked the satisfying noises they made – the crack, crunch, craaaack. Blood pooled around where he sat but he didn't care. He liked how warm it was.

He waited a couple of hours and when Blossom finally got home, it was already night. Brick heard her before he saw her. She walked up to the front door and opened it with her cardkey – as she turned the knob, she began to say, "I'm sorry I'm late, Dexter – there was a problem at the city bank today and I needed to…"

And she stopped, because even though it was dark, even though the apartment lights weren't on, she had super-human vision – and she can see with crystal clear clarity the bloody mess on the apartment floor, and the body that lay in it.

The laboratory coat and the slightly purple gloves gave the identity of the body away – otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to recognize it. The head was just a gory lump of broken skull, bloodied hair and organic tissue which, she could see, was even burned.

And the broken shards of slightly blue-tinged glasses scattered around it – that was a dead giveaway too.

She dropped what she was holding – her work bag – and with trembling legs walked forwards to where the body lay. Her eyes were glued to it – to him – and she took no notice of the figure that sat behind it.

Brick found this rather irking.

"De… xter…" The name escaped her lips unwittingly, her mind still unable to register the sight before her. She collapsed to the floor, ignoring how she was stooped in blood – in his blood, which was still slightly warm – and reached out with trembling hands towards the cold, dead body of her lover. "D… Dext…"

Brick rolled his eyes, tired of her dramatics. He reached out and gently held her face in his hands – in his blood-soaked hands, which were not quite dry yet. He forced her head up, making her look at him. He smiled. "Welcome home, Bloss. Surprise."

And what she saw finally snapped her out of her stupor: Brick's face, covered in blood, smiling at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Her very being instantly filled with horror and her eyes – glazed completely with something indescribable – couldn't even cry the tears she should – wanted – to shed. She couldn't – because her body was so stiff with fear and grief and despair and horrific terror that she couldn't even find room in her petrified heart to cry.

"You made me do this, Bloss, so don't look at me like that," Brick said, his voice low and husky. His bloody red eyes were vibrant and full of life – so unlike the dull, drying red that soaked deeply into the carpet. In the darkness of the apartment room, Brick tenderly stroked Blossom's cheek, smearing Dexter's blood even more apparently on her pale, smooth skin. "You understand me, don't you?"

Blossom's mouth was dry and she was all too aware of how she sat in the pool of Dexter's blood. "Bri… ck…"

And she couldn't say anything.

She couldn't do anything.

She was rendered completely and utterly void – void of everything but her horror.

She couldn't even register the feeling of betrayal from a friend, she couldn't even summon to the surface her unsurmountable grief – she couldn't even feel the desire to seek vengeance, to unleash her righteous fury, because all the life had been sucked right out of her the moment she saw his body and what was the point, when it was already too late and it wouldn't make him come back anyway?

"Don't worry, Blossom, you'll get over him," she heard Brick saying to her, the clarity of his voice piercing through her tarnished soul. "After all, I'm your counterpart. I was made for you –"

Even though she was not made for him –

"I exist because of you –"

Even though her existence did not revolve around his –

"We're two halves of the same whole; we're two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. This guy… he didn't fit. But you and I do. You're my purpose, Bloss… and therefore, your only purpose should be me."

Even though… her purpose never involved loving him.

She never had to love him.

But for Brick, there was no choice – because he was created that way.

Then he leaned forward and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss on her forehead. "After all," he whispered against her skin, tightening his grip around her face, his eyes a swirl of disintegrated sanity, "it's only fair."

And it was only then… that her tears began to fall.

I was made to destroy you.

And in the end, perhaps I did.

In the same way you first destroyed me: with an innocent act of meek affection – by the simple act of a kiss.

-x-

KazunaPikachu

-x-