title: glass
pairing: brick/blossom, one-sided?
rating: pg
parts: one-shot
disclaimer: dodges ctn lawsuits
summary: brick wishes he could reach her.
notes: applause for mathkid, who helped me out immensely with this one. any soul-crushing mistakes left behind are my fault, and mine alone.



It's like he's staring at her through frosted glass.

Her image wavers and shimmers through, not quite real and not quite discernible, but he can pick out color, movement, the sound of her voice, because frosted glass isn't always soundproof (and besides, he's got superhearing, hasn't he?).

He wants to reach for her, as if touching her, grabbing her arm and holding it there will suddenly bring her into focus, and he'll see her with strikingly crystal clear clarity (that's horrible alliteration and even worse, it's repetitive), and hey, it's been a long time since he's been able to form any cohesive thoughts in his mind when it comes to her. They shimmer across the wrinkles in his brain, not quite real and not quite discernible… just like her.

He can break through glass, easy, nothing to it (what are superpowers for, anyway?), but nevertheless it stops him when he musters the energy to step toward it (toward her) at all. His hands bump against it, it's cold on his skin, and his breath fogs in the air as he sighs, millions of tiny little pinprick crystals too minute to see.

Brick wants whatever is behind that glass. Whatever hides behind it, whatever lives and moves and breathes behind it, whatever laughs and cries and loves behind it.

There is nothing more he wants than whatever is behind that glass.

The glass is just a metaphor. But Blossom may as well be. Glass, that is.