A/N: I feel like this chapter is just more world building, so it comes off as a bit slow and wordy! I think the next chapter may be like that too, but I had fun writing it so enjoy!
(I don't own anything)
School, after hours, were always subliminal places. It was probably due to a combination of things, like subpar lightening, echoing hallways, and that weird school smell that reminded her of glue, even though she was pretty sure she hadn't used glue since middle school.
Well, maybe she used glue a few times, but it was on the rare occasion for sure.
Only a few people were left mingling around, mostly attending to whatever business their after-school activity had assigned them. Fall sports were outside practicing, she could hear them hollering.
She wasn't here after hours for an activity though, she didn't have one. Her sisters did, but she wasn't really interested in student council or art club or whatever her sisters had chosen. She wouldn't mind being on a sports team of some sort, but the school board had ultimately decided that wouldn't be fair to the rest of the schools on account of her powers.
So, she didn't have an activity or anything, which hadn't been too bad up until that point because she had been busy protecting the city. Now, she just sort of meandered around until she decided it was acceptably late enough to go get ready for bed. At least her homework was getting done.
She was at school after hours because her homeroom teacher, Mr. Barth, had asked if she'd help take care of some heavy boxes. It was very uneventful, but the secretary in the office, this crinkly old woman with red lipstick smudge on her face, gave her two (2) chocolate chip cookies, so it wasn't an entire waste.
The breeze was blowing in from the side door opened near her locker, and she breathed in the last lingering bit of warm air that the beginning of fall was offering. A storm was rolling in, the weather man said it was going to be a shitty weekend, though he nixed the word shitty.
She adjusted the shoulder strap of her duffel bag tightly, so it clung to her better. It was always awkward flying with a bag constantly slapping you in the legs. Buttercup realized she should probably consider getting a normal book-bag, instead of the dingy duffel bag she used, but book bags weren't usually big enough to hold the things she needed.
Which were her books obviously, a first aid kit (duh), an extra uniform to change into (teachers usually didn't like their students to be covered in monster junk or blood), an extra-extra change of underwear (because who knows, ya know?), her charger, a few snacks, as well as her lunch.
She didn't carry it from class to class, just home and back, but a regular book-bag would probably be easier to deal with. It's just…she didn't want to part with it just in case. Murphy's law, right? She'd have to ask the Professor or Blossom, whoever she saw first.
Going off that logic maybe she should forget her duffel bag. Maybe then things would actually semi-work in her favor. She'd actually get to punch something again, instead of just the simulations the training room was spitting out.
With a sigh, she finally shut her locker and began the walk out of the building. In the parking lot, she was about to shoot into the sky when she paused mid-take off. From across the parking lot she recognized Ms. Thorn. It had been a whole week since last Friday, when Boomer's friends had mouthed off.
Buttercup watched her intently now in class to see if the older women showed any discontent towards her. She watched for anything at all that could possibly show Ms. Thorn was still beat-up about the whole thing. She wished there was an easy way to ask a teacher if they blamed you about the death of their husband. Buttercup had thought about asking her after class a few times but could never think of the right words to say.
If she couldn't figure out a way to actually say sorry, Buttercup figured she could at least tell the other side of the classroom to shut up if they got out of hand. She didn't know if it would work, but she had some merit of authority in this town so she figured she try.
A week had gone by though and little to no disruption warranted her involvement. Ms. Thorn could typically handle everything on her own and the one time she may have needed help, Boomer actually told his friend to shut it instead. Speaking of Boomer, he had actually showed up to class on time twice and the other three times he had managed to get there early. So, Buttercup wondered if his 3rd hour teacher was letting him out early or something because of his tardiness.
Her mental train of thought was digressing though, the MVP of the moment was Ms. Thorn. She watched as the frizzy haired women shuffled herself into her car and drive off, which meant Buttercup had lost her opportunity to do something for her this week. Whatever that something would be she didn't know, but hey she had a whole year to figure it out, right?
Maybe she could lift some boxes, see if her gutters needed cleaning. Buttercup snorted, taking off into the air. Nothing said "I'm sorry for the lose I could have prevented if I had been conscious" like doing yard work.
She landed on her front lawn seconds later and went to check the mail. Walking up the path, she paused flipping through the junk to look towards the city. You could barely see the skyscrapers if you didn't have super vision. Half a year ago, she wouldn't be home for another four or five hours. Her shoulders slumped a bit, as she continued to stare longingly, as if she could materialize a monster with only the heat of her stare.
After a moment, she let out a sigh and turned back towards the home.
"Home!" She called out, opening the door.
Crossing the threshold, she took a deep breath, inhaling that good 'ol home smell. She dumped the mail on the coffee table and stomped her way upstairs.
"I said, I'm HOME!" She repeated on her way up and basked in the tiny victory of making all the pictures on the wall shake a bit.
I am Buttercup. Hear me roar.
Sort of made her want to watch a dinosaur movie or something.
"Downstairs, dear!" Her father called from the lab.
She wasn't surprised he was home this early. She had thought he may have still been at the university, but he had been spending more time at home lately. Probably for her sake.
She had been doing her best to avoid any conversation about Sunday, which was getting increasingly difficult. The Professor wasn't outright saying anything, but he was hovering to the point that she was clearly receiving the message. He had even started to leave motivational quotes in her lunches, which were sweet in theory, but also very embarrassing.
Especially when that note slipped out of her lunch bag, and she failed to notice until Brick was reading it out loud and Boomer had started choking on whatever he's was stuffing his face with.
"Who's dumplin' Lumpy Pie?" Brick snorted, "Seriously, own up."
He had waved the little note around for everyone at the table to see. Even Butch had pulled his attention away from his phone to pay an ounce more attention than he usually did.
Her sisters were definitely smiling and throwing her looks, but they at least had the good grace (and self-preservation) to keep their mouths shut. Why the Professor only called her those embarrassing names was beyond her!
She didn't own up, by the way.
Moving on from that agonizingly painful memory, Buttercup stepped into their room tossing her bag to her side (she wouldn't hear the end of it if she didn't) and flopped back on her bed, kicking her legs up into the air. She stayed like that for a moment examining her black sneakers. She wore either those or some sort of boot almost every day, it didn't matter which, both were practical in a fight.
Letting her legs drop, she kicked the shoes off. They landed, teetering close to the edge of the imaginary border that separated her side from Blossoms, but Buttercup didn't bother to fix it. Blossom could deal, she wasn't even home right now. Instead, she laid there debating whether or not she should change out of her clothes now or just wait till after dinner.
Pajamas sounded nice, but what if there was a call?
Letting her mind wander from her uniform, to her homework, to the dust motes the light streaming in was reflecting Buttercup wasn't aware she was falling asleep until the closest door had banged shut.
Her eyes snap open wide, as she jolted awake. After swallowing the heart-wrenching scream that had made its way up her throat, the panic subsided and her breathing regulated as she recognized that she was still in the bedroom and the danger was actually just Bubbles ripping the room apart. Not that that was better or anything.
Buttercups flight or fight reactors fired up again almost immediately when Bubbles whipped around to face her, "What are you doing!" The blond barked, eyeing her defensive stance.
Relaxing a little bit, Buttercup mumbled "Um, I think I feel asleep?" She ended the sentence like a question, hoping that was the right answer. Bubbles was obviously in a mood. She looked like an angry animal, hunched over and going a little red. Buttercup at least had a consistent set of moods, Bubbles went from zero to hundred with the snap of a finger.
She was so defensive about things, especially when the baby didn't get her way.
"Where are you going!" Bubbles demanded blocking the door and Buttercup threw her hands up and pointed to downstairs, trying not to make prolonged eye-contact.
It only upsets the beast.
Bubbles glare tightened, as she placed her hands on her hips, "Are you not going to ask what's wrong!"
She looked around the partly destroyed room, "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? What's. Wrong!" Bubbles basically screeched, her voice steadily rising higher and higher, "What's wrong is my outfit Buttercup! Obviously!"
Oh. Then why make her ask? Buttercup didn't snap back though, she liked living. You could trust her on that, she had tried the whole dying thing. Didn't work out too well for her.
"I am here, in this room, and I have nothing to wear. The shirt I did want to wear is no where to be found. And even if I can find it, it wouldn't be good enough! All we have are stoooopid uniforms and we can't just keep wearing those!" Bubbles had begun panting, as she paced back and forth kicking any offending item out of the way.
"I have my own style, my own taste. I don't want to look like 'Blossom' or 'Buttercup'" She
mocked, slamming the door that Buttercup had just opened, shut. "Oh! Does this not matter to you? Too cool for little Bubbles! Don't want to listen to me, huh?" She threw her hands in the air, squeaking.
"Geez, what's your deal?" Buttercup rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. She could no longer resist snapping back. "It's. A. Shirt."
"A shirt! Ugh!" She stomped, "UGH!" She stomped again, "Of course, you wouldn't understand. My stuff is missing! And I look gross! And everyone's here and ready downstairs!" Her overly sensitive sister complained on the verge of tears, which made Buttercup shrink away.
"And I just know Blossom took my shirt!"
"Bubbles you look fine with what you have on!" There was no talking down a frustrated Bubbles until she got her way (whatever that was). She edged towards the door again. "I'm serious, you look…cute?" Gesturing vaguely at the distraught sister in front of her.
Bubbles sniffed and pursed her lips, taking in her words.
"…Really?" She pouted.
"Yeah—" Buttercup was cut off by Blossom, who slammed the door open, missing Buttercups body by a hair.
"Bubbles! Come on! Everyone's waiting! Oh, sorry BC. Where have you been, we've been looking?"
Bubbles huffed, looking away and crossing her arms.
"Napping." She pointed towards her bed. They literally shared a room; how could she miss her?
"What's even going on?" Buttercup asked, peeling herself off the wall.
"Timmy Peterson is throwing a party tonight and we're all going over together. Remember?" Blossom answered quietly, eyeing the door, "But remember the Professor doesn't know. Maybe we should just tell…" She trailed off.
Weird, Buttercup did not remember. Even the name Timmy Peterson wasn't ringing a bell.
"No!" Bubbles whined, "You won't ruin my night anymore then you already have, necklace thief!"
"Is that what you're mad about! It goes better with my outfit Bubbles." Blossom gaped and Buttercup threw her head back with a groan.
Of freaking course! She wasn't going to stand here while her sisters argued over a necklace. She had been sleeping, did they know how hard that was for her!
…
Well no, she hadn't told them that, but sheesh. She made a dramatic huffy exit and floated towards the stairs. Stopping at the top and unfolding her arms, her scowl faded as she looked down below her into the living room.
Bubbles was right. Everyone was downstairs. The whole group consisted of the various kids the girls associated with most. She didn't even really know everyone they associated with, but the big names were there. She heard Robin in the kitchen, the boys were near the front door, and following them around was Mitch, who was himself being followed religiously by the twins. Floating in between them all were a bunch of secondary characters she never knew what to do with, but wave and say the occasional hello to.
It was loud (how had she not waken up sooner?) and she wanted to turn back around to save herself from the social anxiety, but Bubbles was upstairs and she had a feeling that wasn't going to end pretty if she stayed around her any longer.
Still, she hovered above the first few steps in the dark safety of "no-man's land" debating her choices. Her grumbling stomach made the choice for her and she floated forward. Halfway down she landed out of respect to the boys, because she figured it was the little things that would show them she was trying and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of one of the various hanging pictures.
She really wished she hadn't bothered to look. Her hair was smushed on one side and sticking up at weird angles and the tunic of her uniform was crumpled. Her long comfy sweatshirt was calling out to her and she wanted to go back and change, but…well, Bubbles.
She sighed, moving on down the stairs trying to flatten her hair with her hands in vain, as she plotted a way to the laundry room without be detected. She probably had a change of clothes in there.
"Buttercup!" Welp, too late. Boomer waved and she threw a weak smile in his direction, as all the minions around him shifted their gaze to her at, creepily, the same time. They all smiled back.
"Oh, Buttercup. Good you're-" The Professor, who had stuck his head out from the kitchen when her name was called, paused as the doorbell rang, "Oh! Even better! Buttercup, dear, would you get that? I ordered take-out as a surprise, just sign the receipt I already tipped! I have something to finish up in the lab." He disappeared back into the fray.
"Sure Professor." She shrugged, but her small smile didn't drop. Take-out was exactly what she wanted, hopefully he had gotten spring rolls!
Pfft, of course he got spring rolls. This was the Professor. Giving up on her hair, she dropped her hand. Brushing her face, as she made her way towards the door, she realized with slight disgust that she still had copious amount of drool on her. She ducked under an arm and brushed past Brick and a few others, more focused with wiping it off then the light conversation starters being aimed her way.
She nodded off a few responses, but ultimately the house guests went unnoticed. She wanted that take-out.
Opening the door, the delivery guy wasted no time "Hey, this the Utonium residence? I just ne..ee." The poor guy trailed off when he looked up from the receipt and Buttercup raised an eyebrow right back at him.
Did she still have drool on her face?
"A-re…are you Buttercup?"
"Uh, yeah. Hey. Do you need me to sign something?" She tried her to best to sound causal and not hangry.
"Like from the Powerpuff Girls?"
"The one and only." She shrugged.
The poxed marked boy in front of her blinked rapidly for a moment, "Whoa. Wow! The Buttercup!"
She couldn't help but smile a bit, "Yeah, The Buttercup."
"Can I have your autograph?" He all but yelped.
"Can I have my take-out?" She said eyeing the bags sitting on the porch. The boy turned a little pink.
"O-oh yeah. Sorry, I, uh forgot. I just need the receipt signed. Uh, and in the bag is a new promotional coupon." Taking the paper from him, she quickly slapped on her name as he continued to ramble on.
He was also definitely looking into their home, which made her feel a little weird, but that's what happens when you were a little famous.
"Having a party?" He asks a little dazed, ignoring the receipt she's was trying to hand back.
Looking back towards her living room she paused before answering, "Uh, I don't think so?"
He nodded, passing her the food and finally grabbing the little paper. They both stood there a moment while she inspected the food. On top were some beautifully golden spring rolls, so score one for Buttercup.
"Have a good night." He said probably noticing her satisfied smile after she had looked back up at him.
"Hey, wait." Pausing on the step he whipped back around like an excited dog and she offered up another small smile, tilting her head back a bit to motion him over, "Uh, you forgot your autograph. If you still want one? What's your name?"
"Tom." He beamed at her and she gave a quick nod.
Closing the door a bit, she pulled out the pre-signed papers they kept in the side-table by the front. It was Bubbles idea because they had the occasional brave kid come up to the door to ask for one. The ones they gave to kids generally had words of encouragement written on them, as well as their names. She opted to just give this guy a generic one, but she scribbled a quick thank-you above her signature to personalize it.
That always made people happy and that held true with Tom. She shut the door after returning his cheery goodbye and adjusted the bags in her hands, but not before she snagged a spring roll.
She stuffed as much spring roll as she possibly could into her mouth and made her way to the kitchen. In the brief time she had spent with Tom, the home seemed even more disorganized. She dodged a pillow, once again had to duck under an arm (this time Butch's, who she think had something to do with the blaring music coming from the sound system in the living room, if the playlist on his phone screen was anything to go by), nodded at a girl named either Jenny or Jamie (couldn't smile, mouth full), and hopped over the legs littering the pathway.
The further she got into the house, the more people gathered behind her, anxious to get a bite of the take-out. She wondered if there'd be enough and made the mental note to save a carton for the Professor. She highly doubted that the Professor had ordered with the whole group of kids on his mind.
"Food!" She called, specifically to her family when she reached the kitchen island.
They all swarmed like vultures and much like the animals, they waited until she had picked through the bags first, though she bet that had something to do with the possessive glare she couldn't quite control at the moment. So, sue her, she was hungry, politeness be damned. This wasn't even their house! She ripped open a chopstick package using her teeth, piled up some food, and dug in.
When she fell back they attacked, but not before she swiped some extra boxes for the Professor and her sisters.
"BC!" Mid-bite Buttercup turned towards the voice.
"'Sup."
Robin, with a long sigh, smiled, "Waiting on Bubbles, what else?"
Swallowing, Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Might be a while."
Robin shrugged, wearing her ever-present easy grin, "Eh. You coming to the movie with us tonight?" She winked.
She took the moment to scoop more food into her mouth, suppressing a cringe. It had never occurred to her she had been invited to the party- not that the lack of invitation stopped people from going to parties at their age. She shifted, chewing on her words. She knew she didn't want to go, who would she even hang out with. She would likely lose the three people (her sisters and Robin) she'd actually have fun with and not be awkward around in the crowd, and she'd end up in some corner the whole night refusing drinks. Also, she'd probably have more fun if she wasn't worried something may happen to the town the whole night.
You never knew! And now that kids her age were experimenting with alcohol she didn't want to deal with the social pressure that she also had to experiment with the stuff. She had to stay alert for the town, especially if her sisters were going out. Someone needed to be listening for the hotline. Just in case.
She needed to let it go.
"Oh, uh…" She finally responded, only for Robin to put up a finger.
"Sorry Buttercup, one second. Butch!"
The boy in question turned reluctantly away from the orange chicken, "Hmm."
"Could you please change the music to something more bearable? Like more "go-ey out-ey", not," She waved her hand in the air, "whatever this is."
He rolled his eyes scowling, "This is good music tweety, but whatever. I'll change it to something a little more white-girl basic for you."
"Hey, Mr. Doom-and-Gloom not everyone wants to start their Fridays out depressed!"
"And not everyone wants to start it out with a headache either." He stated dryly.
Robin rolled her eyes and the two went back and forth for a bit, until Butch hit his word limit. And that's when Mitch stepped in.
"Aw come on babe," He smiled, exposing the crooked teeth braces could never fix, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend (personally, Buttercup thought it was an odd match) "we always listen to your playlists."
Butch stared smugly at Robin, who proceeded to stick her tongue out at him and turned to her.
"Buttercup! Tell them!"
Buttercup faced stuff to maximum, so she probably resembled a squirrel of some sort, froze. She didn't know what Robin wanted her to tell them, or why it was her anyway who had to "tell them" considering she had been bobbing along to music.
She swallowed thickly, "Uh…"
"Oh, Buttercup dear! Did you get the food?" The Professor's smile faltered when his eyes caught the dismal amount of food that had been left.
Saved by the bell. Again.
"Yeah, here." She floated up to the hiding place where she had kept the extra cartons she hid on top of the cabinets. The kitchen had cleared up considerably after the Professor had arrived.
Go dad.
"Oh, thank you! Smart thinking, I should have ordered more." He talked through mouthfuls. Looks like she wasn't the only one starved. "Tomorrow night though, we'll need something healthier, like a salad." He mumbled on to himself about ingredients and fish.
"I don't want to be that guy, but I think the labs smoking." Brick, one of the few still left in the kitchen, pointed out causally leaning next to his brother. Truly nothing fazed them, Butch didn't even bother to turn.
The Professor whipped his head around, panic in his eyes. The next moment consisted of a few things, first the Professor (the drama-queen) dropped his container of food, that Buttercup caught with ease before it hit the ground. Then, the Professor, with no protection whatsoever, went running towards the smoking entry-way. There was an obvious chemical smell and Buttercup, in her years of experience being a superhero, knew that humans didn't mix well with chemical fires.
So, while catching the food her father had dramatically tossed to the ground (and people wonder where Bubbles got her flair from), she also stuck out her foot effectively tripping the Professor and preventing him from running further into danger. Thank the heavens no one else was in the direction of the lab.
To stop him from falling on his face though but lacking the free hand as she was holding both his food and her own, she tossed her own food up in the air. With the free hand caught her father in the middle of his free fall and quickly righted him, then causally stuck out her hand again and to her glee watched her food container land perfectly on her palm.
She went back to eating, also particularly unfazed by the events that had just occurred. They were a normal she was used to.
"Professor!" Blossom came zipping in to inspected the commotion (super-hearing, ya know?). "You know better then to break lab accident protocols. Please, leave it to one of us. We don't want to see you hurt." She firmly reprimanded.
Their parental figure looked away innocently, and Blossom's stern look faded to an affectionate smile, playfully she rolled her eyes, "I'll take care of it, don't worry."
Buttercup could already see the frost seeping out of her mouth, as Blossom briskly walked to the lab door. This event had made this their most exciting Friday in a while, which was sad to admit.
"Hey what's going on? Shouldn't we be heading to the par—" Boomer froze as he looked at the Professor, and his brothers who stood behind the man shaking their head, silently telling him to shut up, "—movie? It should be starting soon. Hiya Professor. Thanks for the food." Boomer gave him a cheeky smile. Brick scoffed.
The Professor looked at him intensely, "Movie, huh? Which one?"
"Oh, you know, the new one." Boomer nodded, his eyes darting to his brothers.
"I don't."
Boomer coughed, "It's uh about like this girl, I don't remember the title." Boomer squinted at Butch's phone from across the room, that Butch and Brick were frantically pointing too; the screen showed which movie they were supposedly seeing.
She was impressed, they really planned out this alibi. They had even gone so far as to check which movies were actually out right now. They weren't ex-cons for no reason. The Professor jerked his head around, but in the second that it had took, the other two brothers had seemingly gone back to their usual positions. Brick was lounging, popping gum and Butch was messing around on his phone.
"Ah!" Boomer snapped his fingers, after discreetly examining his own phone, "It's the new Freedom Gal movie." He smiled easily, "You know how much Blossom loves her."
"Hmm." The Professor looked doubtful but gave up on the 3rd degree.
Bubbles finally walked in around then, make-up and hair done to a "T" (she followed way too many beauty blogs), "What's going on? Where's Blossom?"
"Bubbles, you look lovely dear." Their father complimented.
She really did, Bubbles had always loved dressing up. She had crazy hair though, that made everyone's morning a living hell because she spent like five hundred hours in the bathroom getting ready.
Bubbles perked at the compliment, "Thank you Professor!"
"Yeah. You do." Boomer agreed, his eyes going soft. It was the only thing that he did that ever gave Buttercup the indication that he may have more then friendly feelings towards her sister. And the way Bubbles shined at his agreement, sometimes made her think that Bubbles may have felt more than friendly with him as well.
Bubbles giggled, "Oh shucks, thanks Boomer. I just threw this on."
Buttercup ignored the look the Professor shot Boomer, as she paused mid-bite to stare at Bubbles. Pfft, "threw this on" Buttercup mouthed, shaking her head. Oh, please!
Butch, out of the corner of her eye, snorted at her antics.
Blossom came back a few moments later, "Done! Just stay out of the lab for a while, okay Professor. Are we ready to go?" She addressed the group.
"Oh, but girls! You haven't eaten yet. Maybe you should stay, get a bite, the others can leave and you can meet them at the movies. I'll drive!" Professor suggested.
The girls blinked at their father and Bubbles smiled sickly sweet.
"Daddy, they have food at the theater. And we're sort of running behind."
"Skip the previews then. They'll save you seats."
"Oh, um. Thanks Professor, but um. They're already all here and I love Freedom…Gal" Blossom rambled, her guilt plainly showing.
Man, they needed to get out of there soon. Blossom looked like she was going to crack and spill the whole party.
Dun duna dun nna, Buttercup to the rescue!
"Hey dad, speaking of everyone being here, I think I saw some kids checking out your golf stuff. Remember last time? How your clubs ended up bent…" She trailed off in mock thought, tapping her finger against her cheek.
The Professor jumped, running out of the room towards the den, "Not my clubs!"
There was a collective sigh of relief in the kitchen.
"Thanks Buttercup." Blossom said, taking the dumplings Buttercup handed over and shoved a few into her mouth.
"We should probably get going before he comes back." Brick said with a nod and they all shuffled out of kitchen. For a lack of anything better to do she also followed.
Robin looked back at her, "Buttercup, more power to you and all, but are you really going out looking like that?"
"There's a lot to unload in that sentence Robin." She gave her friend a dry look. Jeez, so her hair was a little messy, sue a gal for napping.
Robin made a show of rolling her eyes, "No, I mean. You are coming right? What's with the uniform?"
All eyes were on her again.
"We have been talking about this party since Thursday Butters." Bubbles frowned, "Remember, Boomer mentioned that he wanted usssss to come."
Buttercup frowned, why stress the word 'us' so much?
Boomer voiced his agreement, "And we wanted to go because Brick said Timmy Peterson was a jerk."
"No, I said he was a bitch face son of a whore who I hate. Isn't that right Butch." Brick said resting his elbow on Blossom's shoulder, she made a face, but didn't make a move to push him away.
"Yeah. He's a bitch." Butch agreed, per usual, with whatever nonsense Brick was going on about. Buttercup was pretty sure it was automatic at this point.
Even Mitch backed up Brick, "His rant was all over picspeak and so was the fight afterschool! You were totally in the right Brick, Peterson's a top-notch douche. Ain't that right Butch?"
Butch looked at him with clear disinterest, but the twins swooped in to save Mitch the embarrassment and gave their own cheers of agreement.
Now that everyone was mentioning it, Buttercup thought, she did vaguely remember the events that took place yesterday. But, Thursday at lunch was definitely when the note fiasco had taken place, so they must have mentioned it when she was stewing with embarrassment.
"If you don't like him and he doesn't like you, why go?" She asked confused.
"Cause his girlfriend does, so I'm going to flirt with her to establish dominance," Brick shrugged, "Butch's going to fuck with his car, and Boomer's going to—"
"—Boomer's going to get fucked up!" Boomer cheered interrupting, "That house is so going to be trashed!"
The brothers high-fived and the surrounding group joined in laughing. The girls though, shared a look.
"He needs to be humbled. That's what happens when you mess with us." The brothers continued going back and forth building each other up.
Shaking her head Blossom turned to Buttercup with a smile, "Ignoring the vendetta, it's supposed to be fun."
"And," Bubbles added more quietly, so much so only two superpowered people could actually hear her talking, "I really think you should go…ya know, everyone's staying stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" She asked a little insulted.
Blossom frowned, "Well, that you think you're too good for everyone. Buttercup, you have become a little more distant. Bubbles and I, well—"
"—Is everything okay?" Bubbles finished coming in closer.
Buttercup's heart sunk. People were noticing? Of course, people were noticing! How was it their business anyway? Ugh, dammit!
She scowled, "Too bad, I'm staying home. Someone has to. What about the hotline? It's our job. They can freaking deal with it." She crossed her arms.
Bubbles, who wasn't in her best mood to begin with, also crossed her arms, "It's coming off as rude Buttercup. They want to be your friend and you brush them off with lame excuses. Like lunch last weekend, how you were "sleeping". News flash, that dumb hotline isn't ringing anytime soon!"
"Bubbles. Buttercup. Chill. We're causing a scene." The three looked back at the group, who were all staring intensely at them now that the boys had calmed down. Blossom continued, motioning them into a tighter circle, "No one's asking you to stay behind Buttercup and no ones forcing you to come, but just know that down the line if you keep this up you won't have friends to fall on."
Buttercup huffed, "News flash," She mimicked, "aside from Robin none of them are my friends."
Bubbles gasped, "That's not true, what about the boys!"
How blind could these girls be! She wanted to scream. They only hung out with her because they hung out with them. Plain and simple.
"Are you coming or not?" Blossom hissed.
Buttercup glowered at them for a second and then looked away, "No."
"Fine." Bubbles said crossly.
"Fine." Buttercup replied.
"Fine." Blossom agreed rolling her eyes.
Then in sync they turned back to the larger group with fake smiles on their faces.
"Sorry everyone!" Bubbles cooed.
"Buttercup's volunteered to stay behind. Friday nights can be a little tricky with the hotline!" Blossom supplied.
"Maybe next time." She shrugged, "Sorry about that. Have fun though."
There was a pause in the crowd, especially between the people who knew how un-tricky the hotline had been as of late.
"Oookay, well…Why are we still standing here? Let's go trash a house!" Brick commanded impatiently using Butch as a human bulldozer to move people out of the trio's way. Butch did his job well.
Boomer wrapped a friendly arm around Bubbles pushing her along with him. They walked away whispering about something, but since she wasn't listening for it, their conversation was masked by the crowd.
Buttercup waved to Robin, who followed Mitch out and Blossom stayed by her for a few more seconds as everyone else filtered out.
"What, Bloss?"
Blossom opened her mouth and then shut it with a frown, ultimately following the crowd to the party.
The Professor ran back into the room as the last few people trailed out, "Wait! My little angels! Be safe!"
"Professor!" Came two distant groans outside.
Buttercup watched the Professor slump a bit when he heard the retreating cars, probably laminating about how they were growing up so fast.
"They're growing up so fast." He mumbled, slouching into a chair, "Oh, with their "movies", friends, and boys."
Bingo.
"We can watch a movie together, Professor." She offered, settling onto the couch beside him.
He jumped, "Oh Buttercup! You startled me. Why aren't you going out with your sisters?"
"Ugh, not you too." She said frowning, "Sorry, that's just not my thing." She grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels, stopping on a poorly made dinosaur flick.
"Of course, but…wouldn't you rather hang out with friends?"
"Didn't you want us to stay home? What's the big deal?"
"Now Buttercup. There's a difference between a father wanting his daughters to stay little forever and a parent concerned about…well." He stopped, rubbing at his neck.
"Well, what?" She spit while she glared at the TV.
"Well, I don't know how to exactly phrase it dear. You seem stuck, if our conversation last week is anything to go by and I hate seeing you this unhappy."
She so badly wanted to deny it, but he already sort of knew didn't he. Her glare dropped.
"Yeah, well, like you said transitions are hard."
"Yes, they are, but they don't have to be bad. Change can be sudden and scary, but good things can come out of it. They help mold you. You can't stay home forever clinging to the hotline Buttercup. There's still life out there worth living."
She rolled her eyes, "What am I supposed to do Professor? I thought I told you, I'm at lose here."
"Go outside and get back out there! Invite a friend out and get into some healthy teenage hijinks. Why I got into all sorts of trouble when I was young! It builds character."
"It sounds boring." Buttercup scoffed crossing her arms, "Fighting's my cup of tea, not going to the mall food court, like Bubbles and Blossom's friends.
Well, you've got to find your people Buttercup, and those people may not necessarily be the same people that your sisters spend time with. That's okay dear. You're not the same three girls. Focus on what you're interested and you'll find them."
The conversation hit a lull and Buttercup turned towards the cheesy flick on the screen. Stuck had been a good word.
"It was my whole life Professor, I don't know anything else. I-I didn't think it would be like this." She said dully.
"Well, we have a whole lifetime to figure out how to move on. This is your chance at a happy, safe life." Something sad touched his eyes and he looked far away, "You almost missed out on that, we can't waste it now."
Buttercup knew where his mind was. He had stayed with her every night at the hospital, she could only imagine what had been going through his head, "Okay, I'll try dad." She smiled, squeezing his hand.
"Thank you, sugar muffin."
Leaning on his shoulder, together they finished the movie.
The next day Buttercup woke up around eight still tired, but there wasn't anyway she'd fall back asleep. Not with the way Blossom was snoring.
They had gotten home pretty late last night, way later then any movie theater bothered staying open.
Sitting upright in bed, she smacked her lips. Outside it looked like the storm that was rolling in yesterday had made it sometime after she fell asleep. The sky was a dark gray and drizzling. Townsville was always lazy on rainy days. Stretching, she guessed everything that was suppose to happen today wouldn't.
She crept out their room to the kitchen. Yawning she read the note placed on the counter, looked like the Professor would be out this morning "running errands 3", like the girls didn't know about his dorky online dating profile. He was actually on some brunch date, for all his intelligence he always ended up syncing his calendar to the master one Blossom had programmed into their phones. They knew about all his dates.
She had actually forgotten about the date. He had left way too early, since the calendar said it was at ten, so maybe he was actually running some errands. She scratched her stomach and proceeded to pour some cereal.
Whatever, hope he was having fun. She wouldn't be today, so someone had to. There was never anything to do on rainy days, she hated them. She was so freaking bored, she needed some action. She was itching for some sort of adventure!
But, once again, it was raining, so her chances had just jumped to five percent, instead of the ten it was usually at. Where were the monsters lately? She could usually count on one a week.
"uuuuUGHH!" Her head plopped onto the table.
Fine! If trouble wasn't going to come to her, then she'd find the trouble! Direct action! There had to be some slime-ball out there who needed a good pummeling! Didn't the Professor even say he wanted to see her get back out there?
Yeah! She stood confidently. She owed it to the Professor. This would be her first step! She'd make things normal again!
She marched upstairs and threw open the closet door and prepped for her day, for the first time in a long time, with enthusiasm.
"Buttercup! Shuussh!" Blossom groaned.
Cringing, Buttercup muttered a quick apology and finished getting ready. She toned it down a bit, but the spirit was still there!
She had circled this stupid town twenty freaking times now. There was absolutely nothing. No bank robberies, no car jackings, no museum looting, not even a single jaywalker. The one person that had let out a bloodcurdling scream had ended up just being fussy that the on/off again rain had ruined their hair.
The wind was whipping hard around her and the sea fray was cold, but Buttercup didn't leave the city for this dumb rock for nothing, so she shook off her discomfort.
"Come on you stupid monsters! Come fight me!" She called as loudly as she could over the wind, "I'm right here!" She jumped into the air waving at Monster Island.
Picking up a boulder she let out a frustrated scream and tossed it at the offending body of land. A moment ticked by and she slumped to the ground. She sat there in the mud of the little island she was occupying and sniffed.
The monsters weren't coming. Not today.
Throwing the rock had felt pretty good though. So, she picked up another and tossed it into the water. Then another. Then another.
The ground under her began to shift and she tumbled face first into the mud. Next to her, in the water, there was a loud splash and a shadow slowly started to swallow everything in sight. Buttercup removed her face from the dirt to look up and her heart jumped for joy.
Above her stared a grotesques water monster, dripping with sea slime and barnacles. She stood ready to face her challenger.
It opened its mouth, dumping an assortment of water and fish towards the ground. She jumped back away from the water, bracing herself for any possible sonic scream or fishy attack.
"Uh, hi." The monster gurgled. She faltered, that was no sonic scream.
"Hi?"
"I was fine with the noise that you were making and all that, but see this is kind of were I live, so if you could stop throwing rocks?" The monster squeaked.
"Oh. Uh, sorry." She apologized and the monster nodded once, as it sunk back into the water.
"Hey, wait" The monster paused before re-submerging, "You wanna fight?"
The water beast looked up at the sky, then back at her mud stained form, "Maybe later. Its kind of rainy." It gurgled, sinking back into the water.
"You live in water!" She shouted leaning forwarded to look at the retreating form, "What difference does rain make!" But the monster had already disappeared.
Rolling her eyes, she rocked back on her feet away from the edge, "Figures."
Stupid rainy days. She took off back towards the city defeated, but not before sticking her tongue out at the ripples in the water and kicking a small rock were the monster had descended. She didn't listen to no monster.
She landed back in the street, near the Townsville park. She'd probably go home soon and shower, but a store had grabbed her attention. She ignored her reflection in the town's shop window and instead examined the long board on display. She had always wanted to skateboard or something. Like she knew the fundamentals, but she didn't know how. She didn't have time to bother learning any cool tricks.
A commotion down the street stopped her mid-musing.
She zipped down the street so fast she was pretty sure she had broken a record (and a few windows). She crashed through the little corner grocery store, crouched to attack and eyes ablaze.
"Stop right th—" She straightened, looking around confused "—ere, Mojo…Jojo?"
Both her and the cashier shared a look before turning their attention back to the offender.
"Fine. Since you have yet to show you understand my simple request, then I will reiterate, which is to say I will repeat the command I am giving. That command being to give me the items which I requested but will not be paying for, as this is a crime, hence the laser gun of my creation pointed in your face. I will give you one more chance to…." Mojo Jojo droned on.
The cashier shook his head and with a thick accent turned to Buttercup, pointing, "Powerpuff Girl Buttercup. He has been there for five minutes now harassing my bubblegum machine, scaring my costumers. Please, make him leave!"
She sighed approaching the monkey who had failed to take notice of her yet, because he was too busy yelling at a candy machine about the goods he was trying to steal. Which she was pretty sure were just the bananas he was using as the laser gun he was spewing on about and the carton of eggs in his basket (next to the real laser gun).
He was in his robe and slippers and his cape hung off his shoulders ratty, old, and partly dragging on the ground. The once infamous Mojo Jojo was now streaked with grey fur and had a failing mind, which made her heart sink.
It was amazing how fast it had happened. One day he was there holding the town hostage and the next day he was trying to mug a gumball machine. There were little warning signs in the beginning, like him misplacing a weapon, or talking in a circular pattern for longer than normal and never truly getting to his point, she guessed no one really paid attention to this though. Who would have thought Mojo's downfall, for all his genius, would be his own mind?
She hadn't seen him in a long while.
"Mojo." She called to him approaching, "Mojo, come on let's get you home."
Finally, he turned, squinting at her through baggy eyes, "Ah! Butch! My middle son, which is not to say you are my son biologically, as you are a human and I am simian, which is not human, but also a mammal. Therefore, I am not your true father, but creator, which would make me a type of parental guardian and identifying as a male…" He began to pace and she slapped her hand to her face.
"Mojo, wait I'm not Butch. I'm Buttercup. The Powerpuff Girl." She tried interrupting.
He paused, recognition flashed through his eyes and for a moment she was hopeful, "Ah yes! You bring up an excellent point my son. The Powerpuff Girls will no doubt be at this place, which we are at, to stop me for doing the crime I am currently committing. You must help me complete the task at hand in a timely matter before those accursed Powerpuff Girls make their way to this place and apprehend us."
God, her eye was twitching, "No Mojo, I'm not Butch. We're not robbing the store. We're taking you home." She tried grabbing him, but he stayed put.
"No! We can not leave this place without the items I came to this place for, because this place has the items that we no longer have in the dwelling in which we live, or our home. We have run out of eggs that are required for a nutritious breakfast. And without the eggs, I cannot have the breakfast that I shall require, which consists of a minimum of two eggs."
She blew the fringe out of her eyes as he continued squawking on about eggs and breakfast. Trying to control her breathing and losing her patience at an incredible rate, Buttercup finally had enough.
"Augh! Fine!" She slapped ten bucks on the counter, "I bought you your eggs, lets go home!" She grabbed the monkey and his produced and dragged them out the door.
He didn't stop talking the whole walk back. She had thought about flying, but he had insisted on walking because having his "grown son" carry him was apparently degrading. He also lectured "Butch" about buying versus stealing the produce, and then moved on to "his" filthy attire. She buckled him into the stair chair at the base of his observatory and let the little machine lift him up. When he was a few good feet above her still rambling on, she screamed into her hands. The guy couldn't keep things brief when they were all younger, why would she expect anything else when they got older?
Mojo Jojo wasn't just going to fade into the background as some sort of retired villain. On no, he'd find other ways to annoy Buttercup. Obviously!
Floating, she caught up to him quickly and when they reached the top knocked on the door and helped him out of the chair.
The door opened almost immediately.
"Did you fin—" Brick started and then stopped, taking in the sight before him, whoever was on the other end of his phone asked what was going on. Sounded like the actual Butch.
Probably a funny sight if she thought about it objectively. She'd probably pause too if she saw a girl covered in mud, holding onto a carton of eggs and an old looking mutated monkey.
"Buttercup, hey. You found our dad. Thanks. Mind holding on a sec? I'm on the phone with my brother." She shook her head and he ended the phone call telling which ever brother to get the other one and come home. Opening the door a bit wider, he addressed Mojo first, "Where have you even been Mojo, we've been looking everywhere for you!"
He opened his mouth, but Buttercup in a panic immediately slapped her hand over his mouth, and lifted the eggs up, "Eggs, he was trying to get some eggs."
She felt a little bad doing that to Brick's dad, but she couldn't take another explanation about breakfast.
Brick frowned, "Mojo we have eggs. I swear I'm putting a bell on you, get inside old man. Boomer and Butch are still out looking for you!"
Mojo pushed her hand away, "What are you saying? Brick, my eldest son, is your sight failing you, because clearly Butch, your brother and my second eldest son is clearly standing besides me, more specifically to the left of me."
Brick pinched at his nose, pushing the older man inside, "Dad that's Buttercup! Go to your chair. I'll get you a drink, hold on."
The monkey paused, "Wait. The Buttercup. As in Buttercup of the Powerpuff Girls, my fiercest and one of my most respected nemesis who I have vowed to defeat by any means neces—"
Brick pushed him away farther into their home or observatory, whichever term they used to refer to this place in which they lived...oh god, now she was doing it.
"Yes Mojo, that Buttercup. There's literally only one." Brick shook his head annoyed, then addressed her "Sorry, he doesn't mean it. He doesn't know, yesterday he had a full-on conversation with the chair I left my hoodie on. You don't look like Butch, it's the color palette…" He paused once again giving her a once-over, "…and the dirt. What happened?" He questioned.
She frowned. Why was he so inquisitive?
She waved him off, "Let's just move on from that. Okay?" She was fully aware of how un-feminine and pretty un-human she probably looked like right now. Right up a young Butch's ally.
"Yeah, okay." She'd be lucky if he actually meant that.
"Does he do this a lot?"
"Well, I guess. Mojo's eyesight's sort of going, so he's been a little more…confused lately." Brick sighed, shrugging.
"No, I mean does he go out and "hold-up" stores often?"
"Eh, I'm actually surprised he made it that far. Usually we can find him somewhere in the park, yelling at birds or whatever. We were pretty worried, I came back here to make sure he hadn't wandered back. I don't know how he made it so long without us living with him." Brick explained, and then seriously added, "He's not dangerous or anything, so you're not going to turn him over, right?"
She thought of the laser gun she had smashed in the parking lot, but the look in Brick's eyes made her pause, like he was daring her to say anything else but no. Powers be damned, Brick had a way of making things happen.
"Nah, just lock up the weapons I know you have in there a little better."
He tsked, "I told Boomer he was too smart for baby locks. Do you want to come in?"
She looked up at the sky, it was getting dark and it would be dinner soon.
"Thanks, but no. I should probably get home soon."
"Oh, to shower? Because you're mysteriously covered in mud for some reason? As you can see, I'm circling back to that" Brick said, using his hands to make a counterclockwise circle, "because there's this weird video of some chick by the bay…"
"Don't you have a drink to make?" She said dryly and he rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever. Thanks for finding him. Seriously."
She nodded and waved off the praise awkwardly, "No biggie."
She took off before he could reply, but not in a flashy way or anything, and paused in the air to look back at the volcano. Mojo was lucky, if the boys weren't there the city would have thrown him in some hole and then lose the key. Watching a black car speed towards the park, she had to give it to the boys, when they gave you their loyalty you had it for a lifetime. There was no way Mojo would be going away anytime soon.
Which was…nice. She hadn't realized how much she kind of missed the ape. He was a living relic of the past. They both were she guessed. She'd have to visit him again, no matter how annoying he was, that had almost felt like the good 'ol days.
Sheesh, she sounded like she was sixty with grandchildren. Rolling her eyes at her own dumb antics she continued her flight. Getting to the suburbs she circled down low at a leisurely pace. With the sun going down, and the rain passing, the people of Townsville were trying to get done with the little yard work they could. She waved to the ones who looked up to watch her.
One frizzy head caught her attention more than the others and Buttercup paused to watch. The women's ladder tilted dangerously, as she struggled with her clogged gutters. In a flash, Buttercup had steady the ladder.
"Ms. Thorn, are you okay?"
The older woman looked down with wide eyes, and clutched a hand to her heart, "Much better now." She smiled, shimming down the ladder, "Thank you, Buttercup."
Buttercup shrugged, feeling stiff under the woman's gaze, "I've handled my fair share of yardwork accidents before."
Ms. Thorn smiled, "I'm sure you have. An old woman like me shouldn't be attempting that climb anymore. My knees went bad years ago. And to think, I went to school on a volleyball scholarship." She laughed, but Buttercup didn't get what was so funny. Old people always laughed about the weirdest stuff.
She played along though, "Hehe, yeah…"
"Say Buttercup," Her teacher continued, wiping away a tear, "would you be a dear and get that clump of leaves stuck in the gutter for me? I'm just a tad too short to reach it."
Buttercup shook her head a little too vigorously and floated up, clearing away the gunk.
"Done! Is there anything else I can do for you?" Buttercup asked, whipping her head around to inspect the lawn. Her hedges needed trimming.
"Ah thank you, but you've done plenty already."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive, I like the yard work. Keeps me busy. My husband, Gerald, usually took care of the roof." Her smile shrunk a bit, as she looked up to her roof, with a sigh and a shake of her head though, the grief fell away from her face.
Buttercup's guilt did not though, "I'm sorry Ms. Thorn. About what those kids said…about your husband." She trailed off.
Ms. Thorn looked at her for a moment, before recognition fluttered through her features, "Oh, Buttercup." She shook her head, "Those kids aren't anything I haven't handled before or will later on down the line. You can't be a teacher if you don't have thick skin."
Buttercup looked down, too consumed by her thoughts to end the conversation there, "I should have been there." She mumbled.
Ms. Thorn stopped and really looked at her, seriously she spoke, "What happened that day, Buttercup, wasn't up to you."
She looked up with a scowl, "But—"
"But nothing," Her teacher silenced her, "My husband was a good man who lived a full, happy life. He wouldn't have done what he had done if there was no other choice. Don't shoulder his death Buttercup, he died a hero and I couldn't be prouder of him."
Not that she would admit it, but tears were pricking Buttercups eyes, "How… how are you just okay with that? Okay with me? It's my jo—"
Her teacher placed a hand sternly up to stop her, "I'm not okay, Buttercup. I miss him more then anything. But what's happened, happened. I know he wouldn't want me to dwell in my grief, he would want me to move on. To keep pushing forward."
"Everyone keeps saying that, but how? I'm trying" She let out a long shuttering breath, gesturing to her unkempt state, "but I can't. I just want to go back, to before." She admitted hanging her head.
Ms. Thorn was quiet for a while before she said, "Well, I don't now how rolling in dirt is moving forward, but what's important Buttercup is you're trying. It still takes me longer then usual to get ready. I find myself calling to a man who's no longer there when I get home… It's so hard. One day though, I noticed the gutters were clogged and the lawn wasn't mowed, and no one was going to do those things anymore unless I did." She put a hand on Buttercups shoulder.
"Life wasn't going to wait; there are papers to grade, bills to pay, and a house to maintain. You can't move on until you're ready to, but the world has a funny way of helping you along. You just got to look for it."
Buttercup wiped her nose and looked up from the ground, "I want to be ready, I wanna go on."
"Then keep you're eyes open dear, you'd be surprised change isn't monumental. Look out for the little things." They shared a smile, "Now! Chin up, it's getting late and there's a paper due next Tuesday, why don't you go home and clean up?"
"Yeah, okay. Thank you, Ms. Thorn, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" She asked.
The older woman shook her head no, "I'm about done for the day. I have to get ready for my poker night." She called out to the girl floating above her.
Buttercup smiled, "Well, if the gutters keep acting up…just let me know."
"Will do, thank you Buttercup!" Ms. Thorn waved goodbye, walking up the path to her front door.
Back on course to home, Buttercup couldn't help but laugh to herself. It had honestly taken yard work for her to say sorry to Ms. Thorn. Who would have known?
"Home!" She called out when she entered.
"In the kitchen!" The Professor hummed, "I'm just finishing up dinner, we're having fish! And for dessert, apple pie!"
"He's in a good mood." Blossom said from the couch not looking up, "He won't say why, but Bubbles is one hundred percent sure its because his date went well."
"Yeah," Buttercup scratched at her head, "explains the apple pie."
"Anyway…" Blossom put her homework down, and looked up doing a double take, "Where were you and why are you so dirty?" Blossom cringed away, eyeing her with a faint look of disgust.
"Out." She replied quickly. Blossom didn't need to know the whole truth, she wouldn't like knowing Buttercup had went out looking for trouble.
"Out?"
Buttercup nodded, "Yeah, ya know, out. Uh, throwing rocks. Around. Safely." Then she quickly added, "I wasn't near the bay, if anyone asks." Her thoughts on another certain red-head.
Blossom opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly paused, transfixed by the TV. Buttercup turned to watch as well, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. The news was running a segment, a civilian had filmed some woman screaming at the water in front of her, the most notable thing about her, besides the screaming, was she was covered head to toe in mud, with burst of greens showing through. Her face was undistinguishable.
"Local women yelling at water...more at 8."
"…what?" Blossom muttered, stepping closer to the tv to inspect the video.
"Ha! That's news nowadays? Weird stuff! What about dinner, again?" Buttercup sputtered, clicking the TV off.
Blossom turned to stare at her incredulously, but didn't press the matter, though she did insist Buttercup take a shower.
A/N: Thanks for making it through! I hope this chapter was bearable, I've looked at it so many times I can't stand it anymore. Sorry for any mistakes :)
