The room was swaying. Slowly, slowly, like a waltz, and she was smiling and swaying too, to a silvery thread of music only she could hear, with a partner only she could see. The pills in her stomach twirled her and spun her around, pulling her in and out in a warm, fuzzy dance. Colors shimmered and faded, obscuring the strands of hair then fell in her face as she stumbled, drunkenly, towards her bed. The soft coverlet called to her, in her shade of powder blue that she could somehow never quite replicate with paint. However, the more she walked, the farther away it got.
"Bed, bed, come here, bed," she called, giggling softly, her voice hoarse and jagged from the tears that were pouring down her face and the harsh sobs that ripped their way out of her throat. Her bed paid no heed to her pleas. Bubbles cried a little harder, looking at the sunbeams that poured in through her gauzy curtains. The light made little warm patches on her bed, and she could almost feel it from the other side of the room if she tried. She took a few more steps, futilely, but the bed seemed to move even further out of reach. Then, suddenly, it was beneath her hands. Bubbles laid in the sun, in her favorite place in the entire world. Her velvety, silken bedclothes cradled her as she sank into her soft, fluffy mattress. She felt like she was lying on clouds.
As she lay on her back, the tears pooled in her eyes and continued to slide down her face, even though she was smiling, even though she was laughing. Her fists clenched around the blankets, and in a fit of uncontrolled super strength, she tore them with her nails. This made her laugh harder, and cry harder as well. She felt so warm, so floaty. The tune that weaved through her head would have made her sway, except she was laying down, and the room was now spinning and rocking too hard for her to get up. Her breathing started to get more and more ragged, but she didn't notice. Her mind had already drifted, and images slowly surfaced.
The clearing was exactly as she'd remembered it. The stump jutted out of the ground at the center, though instead of cradling a box of chalk like it had last time she's fought HIM, it held the demon himself. His eyes narrowed into slits when he saw her.
"Bubbles, Bubbles, Bubbles, you shouldn't be here. No one wants you here. Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be asleep?" HIM asked, idly crossing his legs and leaning back, somehow never hanging off the stump, even though neither of them seemed out of proportion.
"I can't sleep," Bubbles whispered, her voice tiny and hopeless, just like it always was.
"And whyever not?" HIM probed, grinning at her, a serpent-like tongue slithering from between his black painted lips and snaking across his sharp teeth. Bubbles smiled, but it was empty, and hollow, freezing him in place.
"I need help," Bubbles answered. "I need help. I can't go on like this. I need to sleep. Please. Help me." She let out a humorless giggle, lifting her arms and spreading them wide. Black-red lines started to mark every inch of her skin besides her arms, and started to bleed. Her skin started peeling off in little bloody swirls, staining the pile of clothes that had appeared at her feet. Her hair started falling out, in chunks, and HIM watched, in abject delight, as her body slowly started to fall apart and decompose.
A rotting smell overtook the clearing, and HIM let out a terrible laugh.
"Oh, Bubbles, there's no help for you," he said. "Don't you know? You're weak. You were made to be destroyed. I should've done it long ago, but how could I destroy you before you grew into your pretty face? Before you grew into the monster you are? Oh, my pet, you're soooo beautiful," he crooned, drawing her body closer, even as her legs melted into a pile of gooey human remains. He licked her face, drawing a layer of mushy skin, biting through it as easily as mashed potatoes. When he pulled his mouth away, half of her face came away with it. He smiled, a dark, sick smile that was ripe with her decaying flesh and blood.
"So, soooo beautiful," he hissed. He grinned as he watched her slowly fall apart until there was nothing left of her. When she was all gone, he stepped in her with his high heeled boots. "Goodnight, pet."
Bubbles's giggling brought her back to the surface for just a moment, and she realized she must have dozed off, as the sun had warmed through her clothes. Feeling for her hands, she stopped the spreading numbness long enough to fold her hands across her chest, just below her breasts. Her sobs seemed thicker, sticking her throat together and tearing apart with every particularly hard laugh. Her own body was turning against her, shutting down. Just like she'd wanted.
She was so tired. She just wanted to sleep. Her bed held her so tightly, like no one ever had, giving her the hug she'd long craved. Her sisters didn't have time to hug her anymore. No one did. Her father, her creator, the one who'd given her life, he never left the laboratory unless he had a date anymore. Buttercup was only ever home long enough to sleep, shower, and make a mess before leaving again. Blossom picked up the messes, usually Buttercup's, but whenever Bubbles tried to engage with her, she shut down. Just stopped speaking in general. The only one she talked to now was Brick. Never did Bubbles think she'd be so jealous of an enemy.
But she was so alone. And she was so tired. Sleep tugged at her eyelids, closing them again, and she fell into strange visions again.
"Bubbles is a baby, Bubbles is a baby, Bubbles is a baby," Butch crowed. Boomer slammed Bubbles against a wall, pressing his body against hers.
"Not when we're done with her. Come on, Butch, let's get this over with so we can make a good impression on Brick. If he gets to bang a Powerpuff Girl, why shouldn't we?"
"Bang, bang, bang, bang!" Butch growled, thrusting his hips at Bubbles obscenely. Bubbles vomited, splattering all over the alley.
"You bitch!" Boomer cries, shoving her away. She lacked the strength to stand, however, and laid in the puddle of her puke, sobbing and laughing, laughing and sobbing. She smiled up at the boys, pleadingly, even as she laid there in hysterics.
"Help me," she panted breathlessly, laughter taking all of her breath. "Help me."
"Help you what? Does little baby need her mouth washed? Maybe she just needs a nap. Daddy will give you a nap, little girl, if you do what he says," Boomer smirked, watching her. She rolled onto her stomach submissively.
"Daddy, please, help me, help me, I need to sleep, daddy, I can't live like this any moreā¦" she whispered breathlessly. Boomer kicked her.
"Shut the fuck up," he said, lowering his fly. She spread her legs, obediently, even though the shame burned her more than she cared to admit. He proceeded to have his way with her, and only when he'd satisfied himself four times did he stand. She cried harder, her laughter only coming in short, manic bursts, blood and other fluids running from under her dress. He kicked her again, in the head, and she saw stars.
"Go to sleep you fucking baby," he laughed, and he and Butch took off, probably to find Buttercup. A deeply resentful, ugly part of Bubbles grinned. Good. Fuck that green bitch.
Bubbles tore her eyes open again. She'd forgotten Octi. Feeling around her bed she latched onto his velveteen tentacles, pulling him to her chest. She rolled onto her side, slowly, feeling the earth spin so fast on its axis it seemed it would fall off. When she resettled, the warm, buttery afternoon sun started to heat her back. This was it, Bubbles mused, closing her eyes. It was finally naptime. The tune threaded through her again, comfortingly. It was singing her to sleep. It loved her. It was the only one who loved her. And it was singing her to sleep.
With the sun warming her small, skeletal body, she fell back into the rocking rhythm of the waltz. A sense of relief filled her, as warm as the pills in her stomach and the light through her window. I'm going to sleep, she thought. I'm finally going to sleep. There was no pain left in her, and the tears stopped abruptly. Her laughter died down into a peaceful smile. Sbe was so tired, so exhausted. It was time.
And so Bubbles dozed back off, only not into visions. This time, there was only blessed blackness, sacred silence, and she was finally able to sleep.
She was no longer tired.
But that's because she was no longer alive.
