If you asked who would be the most terrifying as a villain, most would say Buttercup. She loved to fight, violence came so naturally to her, she could be a nearly moral-less and unstoppable criminal... With the occasional slip up in her teens. A little graffiti here, and one or two public disturbances. There was talk of the meanest powerpuff going bad... But rumors are often too full of hyperbole. Aged 24 and Buttercup was revolutionizing law enforcement. In her first year she had cut the number of large monsters coming to Townsville in half.

Bubbles, the joy, the laughter and during high school, a surprisingly snarky kid. She was indeed a ditz, but that didn't stop her from getting one of the highest scores in her Sat's. Of course she took to languages. They dominated her college years, along with some bad choice in boyfriends. Not like any boy could be a real source of trouble for the super powered blonde. Since her graduation, she had been working on her masters dissertation on squirrel language and culture.

Ever perfect Blossom was striving to achieve, more then her sisters. She was eager to please. That was unquestionable. She did well- top of her class in college, triple honors in politics, maths (all of Ms Keene's early talk of relativity really impacted the girl) and thermodynamics. Her sisters expected her to go into politics. She was definitely a good potential candidate for mayor, or maybe president of the country. A seat on the U.N council would be perfectly suited. Little Miss Flawless, she had the boy next door steady boyfriend any father would be happy to let his daughter to date.

As for the professor, his now grown up girls had flown (quite literally flown) his nest. He was alone in the suburb house. The years catching up on him, stressing about his girls, a lifetime working with potentially dangers chemicals. He was considerably grayer, shoulders hunched over. The girls couldn't age him, they thought it too rude to ask. Probably sixties. By modern standards, still relatively young. He had at least 15 good years. Probably 20. With all of modern medicine, he would probably exceed that.

The Professor couldn't bring himself to move out of the old suburban house. The decoration hadn't changed, same old same old. Crayon marks still coated the walls of the girls old room. Blossoms hairbrush rested on the dresser and Buttercup did finally leave her lucky blanket. The girls had asked him to move somewhere else, maybe a little safer, the neighborhood had gone downhill in recent times. The girls couldn't be everywhere. There was no guarantee that they could protect him if anything bad happened.

Bubbles was dropping home when she came across him. The pipe was on the floor, blood speckles close by. Her heart raced as the red marks increased in frequency and intensity, staining the white kitchen floor. The ruby pool was glimmering in the sunlight, the black clumps of congealed blood highlighted by the noon sunshine.

"Professor!"

She called out, knowing that it wouldn't have any answer. He was grayed the veins were purple, the fingers were swollen. His white lab coat soaking the cold blood from the floor. She screamed- looked for a pulse breathing. Any sign that he would be okay. A hopeless search that left her crying, holding his icy fingers in her warm ones. His lifeless eyes stared at nothing. Her hands shock in his.

She called Blossom first. She was responsible. Reasonable. She would handle the situation best. Her familiar, voice was a small comfort. She came over as fast as possible (about 6 seconds flat). Tears dripped down her face, she grabbed Bubbles pulling her hand from his into her own. Trembling they sat in the living room. The familiar couch and T.v from their youth. Blossom didn't let her sister go as she called Buttercup and an ambulance.

Buttercup arrived, fuming, swearing under her breath. She paced the kitchen. Her fist slammed into the wall, once twice three times each punch leaving a hole. She refused to cry. She ground her teeth before going up to their childhood room. She returned, Octi in one hand, her blanket in the other. Sitting by her sisters, silently they wept together.

The ambulance arrived after what felt like a lifetime. The adult Powerpuffs fell into their childhood roles. The leader, talking to the officials. Keeping everything level for her sisters The joy and laughter waited for command, occupying herself with a daydream. One where none of this was happening. The toughest fighter was standing uncomfortable, waiting to be told what to hit. Who to hit.

A blur of paramedics moved around the house. Police came, took photos. Bubbles was questioned, but it was soon very very clear that she was in no state to talk. She held Octi tight, tears rolling freely from her eyes. The girls were taken together to Blossoms apartment. Away from the scene and under police surveillance. They were not told much. Cups of green tea were passed around. But no one drank it. Blossom tried to get them to eat, but she failed to motivate them to do anything.

That night for the first time in well over 15 years, they shared a bed. Little sleep was had as they lay awake in disbelief. Sometimes crying, other times pacing around the room, hoping, waiting for the coroner to call, a police officer to tell them something.

Meanwhile, news spread across town. The citizens for the most part, grieved for the creator of their safety. They sent flowers, cards words of kindness support. As word reached the mayor Ms Bellum (now in charge (that's right yall, she's wearing the hat)). She declared a day of mourning. But not everyone was showing solidarity with the girls. In the night that followed crime rates increased, no one dared called. Not a voice interrupted the grieving heroes.

Yes I write short chapters. I'm really sorry my lovelies. Anyways. Right now I'm sorta sick, kinda fluish, I've just watched 3 seasons of the powerpuff girls THANK YOU NETFLIX Any how. I can't say when my next update is going to be... I have my leaving cert coming up and then I'm travelling. Should be fun... SO. Let me know what you think.