Before you scream at me for updating the THIRD time in a month, I have something to say :) I'm halfway through with the grand finale of Metamorphosis, but I'm feeling extremely crappy now and I just can't continue writing the remaining (which is pure angst... be warned!) That's how I ended up writing a Blaise/Jeremy story!

This is a twoshot, and I'll try my best to finish it within August. It's rather dark and bleak, but I'm feeling too crap right now to even think of something happy to write. I chose Blaise because I think that all tough girls should have her own emotions and darkness within her :3

Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Cause of Death.

She was losing it.

Her eyes no longer held the mischievous and intelligent glint that her family, friends and teachers envied and adored. They were a colorless pool of liquid, flowing mindlessly in her orbs.

There were black shadows under her once vividly blue orbs, hinting at nights, and possibly weeks, of sleepless darkness. She was plagued by unwanted memories, haunted by her darkest fears, entangled in her thoughts, with her mind battling against her will.

Yes, she was a strong person. Blaise Corso was the rock for the Corso family after it literally fell apart. Her father left when she was twelve, and Elizabeth started drinking when Blaise barely turned fifteen. Stephanie did drugs and got thrown in jail, since the family couldn't afford the penalty and bail. Kate ran away and became pregnant and had a pair of twins on her own in Virginia.

Everything was literally tumbling down and suffocating her. She loved her family, yes, but she was tired of being the rock for it all the time when the elder ones were descending down the spiral of destruction irrevocably. Madeline Corso, inexplicably, was diagnosed with severe cases of Parkinson's and Alzheimer's when she was only fifty. With three incapable sisters and an absent father, it was only natural for her to take on all responsibilities that should have been bore by the father.

She was losing it.

Too many years of taking care of the family tired her out.

Her job at SFPD was harsh, with Anders getting annoyed at her "reckless" behavior (when, in fact, she had seen worse cops in Florida), drama going on at the precinct and her mother was suffering from atherosclerosis and diabetes.

She felt like absolute hell, and that was an understatement. She wanted to simply sleep and never wake up.

Death by overdose of sleep therapy doesn't sound too unattractive, after all.

As she tore her eyes away from the crystal clear mirror that held the reflection of her dull, dying and emotionless eyes, she collapsed onto the bathroom floor.

What had I done to deserve this? What had I done to deserve a pile of things piled on top of my shoulders, threatening to engulf me?

She was damaged goods. She admitted this fact to Jeremy. Hell, she was more than surprised when he didn't run in the opposite direction at 300 mph. But she kept living. She carried on.

She knew that life was too short to live with regrets, but she couldn't help but regretting the decisions she made.

She was sorry for not talking to her mother for a day when she got kicked off the boxing team for punching too many people. She was sorry for not calling Kate to see if she was okay with raising two babies on her own. She was sorry for not visiting Stephanie when she was lonely in jail. She was sorry for not forcing Kelly to seek help when she almost died from fatty liver thanks to her alcoholism.

The almighty Blaise Corso was tired. She was tired of putting up that facade of a strong-willed, fearless and cold girl. She was tired of having to do everything without any compliments or recognition. She was tired of being misunderstood and ignored.

Most of all, she was tired of feeling unloved.

A muffled moan nearby distracted her from this thought. Okay, maybe I mean being tired of not being loved enough.

The bathroom door opened by a silver, and a mob of brown hair appeared at the ga. A soft voice, groggy with sleep., spoke up.

"Can't sleep?"

She instantly turned around and yanked the door open to reveal the concerned face of her boyfriend.

Yes, boyfriend. She never expected that there would be a day when she abandoned her cynical views towards love and accepted a man's affections.

Jeremy stood at the bathroom door, only clad in boxers. His chest was exposed, with the think accumulation of scar tissue in plain sight. It was another thing that Blaise loved about him - he would wear his scars proudly as if they were nothing. She knew that he was hurting inside, with the scar reminding him of the times right after his injury and unable to work, but he did anyway.

Sometimes, she would ask herself: why couldn't she accept herself for who she was?

You may think that Blaise Corso had already accepted who she was, but no. She was lost, like a lost puppy trying to find an owner that it didn't even know that existed.

Without a word, she wrapped her slender, tanned arms around Jeremy's torso, letting a few stray tears loose.

"I can't help it, J. I can't. I know everything's in the past, but I can't forget them. The memories are replaying everytime when I see my eyes, when I stare at the unique vivid blue color that was a trait of the Corso family... I hate seeing it so lifeless, so dead, so soulless, as if I'm a dying person. I can't help it, J. I want to feel again. I want to live.

The brown-haired man held her for a few minutes, before untangling her arms from his upper torso.

"J-J-Jeremy?"

"I'll be right back," he kissed her forehead softly, then turned to the bedroom.

He returned a minute later, with a blanket in his hand.

"Let's head to the couch."

Blaise obeyed without complaint, tightly clutching onto her boyfriend's arm for support as she slowly walked to the cream-colored couch. She sat down and snuggled into Jeremy's arms. His arms always made her feel protected and cared for, if not loved; but that was enough.

"You're not alone, you know," he spoke up after a comfortable silence.

"I know"

"I know you know, but you have to stop feeling so insecure. You don't have to wear that mask every time. At least, drop it in front of me. It's tiring to put up a mask of fearlessness and strength just because someone expects you to, Blaise."

The blonde let out a barely audible sob, and Jeremy continued.

"Drop the mask, Blaise. Everyone hurts, and it is normal. It hurts now, and it will hurt for a while, but it is temporary. It will go away gradually."

They sat together in a comfortable silence, and Blaise spoke the first word in three hours.

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it."

Jeremy absent-mindedly played around the box underneath his side of the blanket, contemplating how to ask the question.

"Blaise?" He began.

"Hmm?"

You know that I love you right?"

"Yeah, J. You practically said that to me every time I saw you." Blaise shot back.

"I know," he chuckled. "I'll never leave you. I promise."

Blaise caught onto this weird pattern of speech, and rolled her eyes.

"Jer, don't tell me that you're going to force me to do something again."

"You're wrong."

"What?" Blaise shot up in her seat, staring at her boyfriend with light returning to her distinct blue eyes.

"Well, technically yes."

"Spit it out, J," She rolled her eyes, and turned away in exasperation.

"Marry me."

Hopefully the final chapter/ending will be up by late August! :)

To my Metamorphosis readers: Grab one or two boxes of Kleenex before you read it :-)

Until next time!