Chapter 4. Guilt
Butch was rather satisfied with himself. It had been a long week, and he had used most of the time to bother his least liked person in the world. It had pleased him how her groan echoed through the walls every time he entered her room. At first, he had teased her with all types of fast food he could get his hands on, but that had resulted in her sulking and calling for the doctors to make him leave, so he had started taking a portion for her too. The girl was too stubborn to ask for help with the feeding, and he would do it – he would miss on her mouth just to annoy her – if it wasn't for her highly protest and refusing his help. Not that he minded; watching her struggle with every bite and then groan in pain, making him smile.
It quickly grew boring, however. They didn't really have anything to talk about, and if he started on something she really didn't want to talk about, the girl would turn away and ignore him, and that lead to more boring time. After a couple of sulking hours at home, his redheaded brother had asked what it was. Butch was a loud sulker, and if he didn't have any fun, he was sure to ruin everyone others day.
«What do you want, Butch?» Brick had asked, giving him his infamous glare. As children, it had scared the green puff, because his older brother wouldn't think twice about whopping his ass into another level of pain. That had faded away over the years, and his brother had come to realize that ignoring Butch was the best option for himself. Being the green ruff gave him a responsibility to never ask for help, no matter what it was; so he had found the best way without asking. His redheaded brother knew straight away when Butch was stuck on something.
«I'm bored,» the man said, his left eye twitch.
«Go bother Buttercup. I don't have time for your childish games.»
«That's the thing. I don't know how to bother her any more. She's asleep, saying being awake is just too slow of a recover, and when I'm there; it's great, she hates being around me, but just sitting there is so,» his face twisted into a weird mask of word stuck-ness.
«Boring?» Brick finished, knowing his brother too well.
«Exactly,» Butch points at the man, before sinking back into the couch. «It is just so boring.»
«How about going to work? You haven't been there in some time.» Brick didn't know why he was trying at all, but getting rid of the annoying brother was a start.
«Na, the green gang got it under control.» At his words, Brick folded his arms over his chest and gave him the stare. Shaking his head, the green ruff knew how stupid it sounded and waved his hand, as if taking back to words.
«Never mind. Work is also boring, so I'm not going there.»
«You want to spend your day with Buttercup?» Brick asked, making Butch's eyes widen and he jumped to his feet.
«Hell no. She's loud, a bitch and I hate her.»
«Of course you do,» Brick smirked. Before Butch got the chance to explode and tackle his brother, the man held up a hand and stopped him in place. Despite their split up and going their own ways, Brick was the leader of the rowdyruffs, and Butch respected him sometimes.
«If you don't want to spend time with your green counterpart at the hospital, you couldn't take a game with you and bother her with it.» The words set of a chain reaction in Butches mischievous brain, and he slowly acknowledged the bright idea his brother had given him without actually suggesting it.
«That -,» the man waved a finger up and down, his head spinning off into endless possibility. «I can work with that.» Not bothering to thank his brother for the talk or advice, he went straight for the third floor, into his hobby room. Mojo had it done for them when he couldn't stand their nagging any more, and it gave them a possibility of storing everything they wanted, away from Mojo and leaving him to his important work.
He didn't make it into the room, before a hand on his shoulder prevented him from moving. The hindrance was rather annoying, so Butch turned quickly around, ready to bark at the intruder. The green puff didn't know what he expected; a maid, Brick, maybe Mojo, but never his blue brother. Boomer looked like real crap, hair dirty and pale in the skin. He had bags under his eyes, but his blue orbs were determent.
«You told me the green gang could do the work I demanded of them. That they could do any job sent their way.» His brother had asked a week back if Butch had any method of finding someone, and he hadn't been lying when requesting the green gang. They really could find anyone and anything.
«Yeah?» The green brother didn't think about his soft voice. Boomer had always had a soft spot inside his heart. It wasn't much, or big, but it was there.
«They couldn't.» Wrinkling his eyebrows, Butch blinked a couple of times. It had never been a problem for him; they would always come back with what he asked of them.
«What did you ask of them?» Butch said, rather curious on what it was his green gang couldn't do. Even when one of his 'workers' had gone missing, fled to another part of the earth, they had managed to find her and drag her back.
«I-,» the blond interrupted himself and visibly swallowed, pondering on if he was going to ask his brother or not. «Mojo asked me to find my counterpart and give her the object, like he asked of you and Brick.» Butch remembered when Mojo had asked that of him, and he had managed it without problems. But he already knew where Buttercup had been.
«You can't find Bubbles?»
«The green gang couldn't, and you said they could find anyone. I've been looking the past week anywhere I think she might be, but I haven't seen her at all. Not one gimps. It's like the girl doesn't exist.» Butch was too stuck up in the fact that his workers couldn't do the job they were set to.
«Ace couldn't find Bubbles? Are you sure?» His brother shrugged his shoulders.
«That's what he told me.»
«He told you? Boomer, the man's a drug dealer! You can't trust anything suspicious he says.» Again another shrug at the outburst.
«I figured he'd be too scared to lie to me, being your brother and all.» Narrowing his eyes, Butch let go of the door handle. It could wait. Nobody lied to a Jojo and got away with it. He was going to find out if the man actually was up to.
«He better be telling the truth,» Butch darkly said, storming down the stairs. He didn't mind Ace lying to authorities, to his friends, buyers, but if he dared lie is brother straight up in the face, then he might dare oppose he himself. The green ruff could have none of that. Brick was right; he shouldn't have left his work alone for so long. Things got out of hand.
He passed his redheaded brother, the man burying his nose in some papers and scratching his scalp. So like Brick, always busy with some form of work. Grabbing his leather jacket, he went for the car, keys already in the engine. Nobody dared steal from Butch Jojo.
Saying Butch had a job wasn't exactly true. The man was a boss of his own company, which wasn't exactly legal; like he cared. The green ruff did whatever he wanted, and as things were going, he didn't need to fear tickets and accuses. Everything was going smooth on the economy front.
Like his counterpart, Butch loved fancy cars and speed, danger, violence and everything brutal in general. His forest green and black car was like a panther, the outside looking soft and shining. The inside was black leather, comfortable enough to live in. He backed away from the huge mansion and smirked at his new ownership over Izis backside. It had taken him months to convince the old man to sell it to him, and he had given in with double of the price he had offered for the place. His brother had provided with this Intel, so it didn't come to the green boy as a shocker, but rather a warm feeling of victory. He had won. After taking over, he had moved his drug business to the lowest floor, hidden away from curious noses. He had changed it into a strippers bar, making it live up to it's known name. Headquarter was still up and running, and that was where he was going.
Butch didn't care much for his surroundings as he drove, banging his head to the metal music. Screaming at the chorus, he scared an old lady that was crossing the road, and the man laughed at her scrambling legs as she hurried away.
He parked the car in front of the doors, kicking them open.
«Freeze, police!» he shouted, scaring every person inside. They turned toward him, some gasping, others jumping in their seats and some even let out a yelp. The three seconds the horror lasted, the man burst out laughing, grabbing at his stomach.
«Always equally as funny, boss,» a man to his left said, and he flashed him a huge grin. There would never come any cops, snitch or authorities around; he had made sure of that, still they were so easily scared every time he did it. Amusing. He loved it.
Grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter, he flips the cap off and takes a long, huge sip before staring at his workers. They nervously shuffle around and pretend to find the work interesting. It was clear he had been gone for a couple of days, because they weren't used to his sudden and fierce company. Pussies, all of them.
While scanning the flock of scared sheep, he lay eyes on Lil' Arturo. The teenager was visibly shaking and apparently high on something. Making his way over to the kid, he kicked his lifeless foot. Those dark orbs turned to the ruff, and it took a couple of seconds before he pulled himself together.
«B-b-b-boss,» he stuttered, trying to rise from the cold concrete. Pushing him back down with one hand on his shoulder, the ruff grinned his most mad smile, teeth flashing. The teen was biting on his lip, sweat forming on his forehead. Now why was he so nervous if he didn't have anything to hide? The answer was simple; he did have anything to hide.
«Lil' Arturo,» the green ruff said, dark, low voice. People turned away from the conversation, not wanting anything to do with it. Butch was a calm storm, and quickly raged up and became ugly. His workers had witnessed how cruel the ruff could be; collected and calm to get the information he craved, but quickly turned around and used force if proven not so effective.
«Where is Ace?» His grip tightened on the thin shoulder. The kid was barely fifteen, but Butch didn't care who worked for him, as long as they did a worthy job. Kid or no kid, having the green man as an employer meant everyone was equally punished if failing; it was never pretty.
«I- uh, I-i-i-i,» he stuttered further, swallowing with his whole head and making a grimace of fear. Slapping his face enough to snap him out of it, the ruff straightened him to look straight in the eyes as he leaned in closer, bottle still in hand.
«I asked you a question, Artie,» he hissed. «You better have paid for those products.» The kid nodded his head frequently, trying to regain his conscience.
«A-Ace g-gave them t-t-to me.» Lying was one thing, but the green gang leader would never dear stealing from him. He had witnessed himself what happened to people who had purloined from him before. The older man wasn't stupid. The possibility of lying was something he could get away with once, but stealing was unacceptable. Slapping the side of his cheek gently, the kid pushed his back up against the wall, somehow hoping it would help him get away from the green beast.
«And where is he now?» Patience was running thin, and it was his last chance of answering before he would take to more drastically measures. He was so ready to beat the kid up.
«U-up stairs, ta-taking care-e of some b-b-busine-ess,» the man moved his hands up to his face, fearing the incoming beating, trying to protect it as best he could. Patting his head, Butch moved to the door at the end of the room. It was flaming red; a fire door. He wasn't going to beat the kid for telling the truth; no, truth was rewarded with mercy.
Nobody dared glance up before the man had left the room. Butch went up the stairs, taking two and two in one step. He came to enter his most favorite room of the whole building. It was dark, a huge bed on the one side, covered in blankets and pillows. The man had spent several fun nights in there with women, alcohol and drugs. Good memories, he grinned. Ace was standing at the side of his desk; knowing better than to sit in his boss' chair. A woman was sitting in the guests seat, they both turned head as he entered.
«Boss,» Ace said, eyebrows rising over his sunglasses. The man wore them anywhere; outside, after dark, inside, to parties, anywhere. Butch had never cared to ask, for the same reason he didn't want anyone to ask him why he was doing or wearing what he did. It was his dealing, and he could do exactly what he wanted.
«Ace, I need to talk to you, alone.» If possible, the eyebrows moved even higher on his forehead, before, and the green man nodded for the girl to leave. She glanced between them before picking herself up and went out the door. It took a couple of seconds for Ace to regain himself.
«I didn't know you were back. Has anything come up?»
«Last week, I gave you an assignment. Today, i received a comeback that you weren't able to do it,» the man moved his head a little, visibly asking the question: Is it true? Sighing, the green gang leader sat down on the chair, gesturing for his boss to do the same. Butch folded his arms over his chest.
«Please,» the older man said, looking heavily tired and worn out. His chair did seem rather nice, so he did so. He sunk down, staring at his worker with cruel, cold eyes. He didn't meet his eyes, and this was rather unusual. Sure, Ace respected him and was one of the main reasons Butch had gained so much with his career, but this was something else. Shame? Fear? Ace had never shown obvious fear. Butch didn't like it, not one bit. He noticed the blue area on his chin and sore lip. He had spots of bruises around, and two fingers taped together, probably one of them broken.
«I believe this is about the person your brother wanted me and my gang to find.»
«Bubbles Utonium,» Butch confirmed, and the man flinched visibly under the glasses. Crooking the left side of his face, the green ruff waved a hand for him to continue, hating to stall conversations and use unnecessary much time on trivial things.
«We managed to locate her,» the man nodded his head, confirming. «However,» he pinched the bridge of his nose, winching at the pain. «She wasn't Bubbles.»
«You found Bubbles, but she wasn't Bubbles? Man, that makes no sense. You're talking in riddles, like Brick does,» Butch snorted annoyed. He couldn't stand uncertain answers like this. It made him angry and irritated. «I hate it, so get straight to the point of you don't want a beating for lying to my brother, and now me.»
«Alright, boss. Chill,» Ace said, scratching the back of his neck, leaning into his chair. «I thought I found Bubbles. It was in the back alley almost a week back. You should have seen the girl. The blond hair was how i remembered her as a child, but her eyes. They were cold and creepy, that one look you give a cockroach as it moves around in your apartment, or someone who wronged you and you seriously want them to suffer. The girl,» the man shuddered and shook his head, as if trying to erase the memories. «I approached her and asked her to come with me, because Boomer requested it. I didn't say his name, mind you. Something must have happened because she knocked Lil' Arturo, Grubber and Big Billy out, before falling face flat on the ground. The blond, she flipped. Rolling around on the concrete, screaming and shouting as if the devil himself was setting her on flames.»
It was a hard story to believe, but nothing about the man indicated he was lying. Ace was telling the truth.
«Snake and I went over to her, asking if she was okey. I remember kneeling down and trying to shake her, but she slapped my hands away while hissing. The blue puff is strong, so naturally I moved. Snake flipped his phone out, ready to call the ambulance, when she-» A shiver went through his body and he drew a quick breath. «The girl killed him, Butch. She stopped trashing around, and sent a beam of light straight at Snake, blasting his insides on the walls. The sweet and innocent powerpuff she once was, is no more. She then tackled me, beating me to a pulp.» He removed his glasses, displaying a black eye and broken nose.
Butch grimaced. Sure, he had seen the girl beat up people before, but never like this. What Ace told her, was more of a ruff thing to do, but only if provoked.
«Did you do anything before that?»
«Na, man,» the pale man shook his head, polishing his glasses with is shirt. «I stole some money from her sister, because the silly girl had left her apartment door open, but I don't think that's why she turned crazy.»
«You stole money from Buttercup?» Butch never imagined Blossom as the type to be able to steal from, besides, she had just moved back and might not have an apartment yet. He didn't think the blue puff had a home; Mojo had done his best in ruin her business with the art, he thought. The green ruff hadn't followed on their quick briefing on the different plans on the girls, other that Brick was going to fetch Blossom, he was going to buy up Izis – firing her was just too amusing to pass upon and that gave him quite a challenge from here on – and Boomer. Well, the blue boy was going to do his. Butch couldn't remember. It had been something boring.
«Yeah, bro.» Ace smirked. «She stocks up on cash people at the bar gave her; always talking about moving away from Townsville when she had received enough. This was a couple of months back when we were still dating.» Butch felt his mouth dry at the thought of Buttercup and Ace dating. The men had been working together for years; how had he failed to notice it? Probably been too busy with his own drugs and sleeping around. Glancing the man up and down, he decided she had horrible taste.
«Give them to me,» He demanded, holding a hand out.
«Wait, what. Boss, this-»
«Rightfully belongs to me. Now hand it over before things turn ugly.» With a confused look, he handed the stack of money to the ruff. Damn, he thought. The girl had really stacked up. Taking out ten percentage, he gave it to Ace for his cooperation. Sure, he was an anarchist, but he wasn't going to hold everything back. Something had to inspire these men to keep working for him besides fear. Remembering his brother, he turned them back on track, showing the gross thoughts away.
«But you do know where Bubbles live?» Shifting in his seat, Ace sighed.
«She's currently resides at BC's, but boss, you shouldn't go there. The blond is crazy.» Lifting himself up from the chair, seeing no reason to stay any longer after receiving what he wasted. Moving Aces chair out and bending over it, making the man shrink back, the gave him a deep glare.
«And where does BC live?» Head almost at the end of the pillow, the man muttered the address, feeling a light, but harsh slap across the face. Butch was strong and didn't need his over humanly powers to beat the green man.
«Good. Now, if I ever catch you lying to me or my brothers again, or incomplete your job, I will kill you.» Ace nodded his head, fear shining through his eyes over the black glasses, teeth rattling. Butch stood and moved to exit, fishing his phone up from his pocket, before throwing one look at the shit scared man. «And don't worry. I'm not the one going there.»
He finished texting his brother the address to the girl, receiving no reply. It was just how things worked between them. Neither really tried to have any contact, but they were still brothers and thus obligated to make do when the situation asked for it.
«Boss?» a puny voice said as he was leaving the stairs and fire door. Turning to his right, he saw Lil' Arturo, clearly sobered up some notches on his quick trip. «I believe you already heard the story about the blonde from Ace, but there is something you should know; something the boys didn't catch on to, but I saw it.» The green ruff encouraged him to go on, really wanting to get out of there. Shuffling uncomfortably around, the green man took himself together.
«Before Bubbles knocked us out, I saw red smoke seeping out of her mouth for a second. Ace later told me she punched me straight in the gutter, and it's possibly true because I can't remember anything but black after that. I know of only one creature capable of doing such a thing, so please be careful, boss.»
Giving the man a blank, small bag with a white powder, he quickly left, not wanting anyone else to hinder his departure. It wasn't anything severe; some analgesic he had snatched from a turned nurse when visiting Buttercup. The boy seemed like he really needed it; blood shot eyes and blue veins shining through his skin. The kid had probably never witnessed a friend get killed before.
Boomer waited all day in his room for the night to fall, trying to make a plan. Mojo had told him to just ask Bubbles to take the object of her free will; but he couldn't see it ever happening. Surely, she must know what he had done and would never want to see his face ever again. Brick and Butch didn't seem to be bothered with it; as if it had never happened, but Boomer remembered. He remembered it so clearly it hurt and he couldn't stand being around anyone.
Locking himself up, he had first bought all of Bubbles pictures, looking for anything that indicated she hated him or knew the truth. Years had passed, and he kept buying, hanging them up on the walls in his hobby room. The girl didn't change. She drew beautiful pictures of joy, happiness and captured memories. A sunset, rainbow, light and warmth. Nothing she made was anything close to dark or sad, and for some time, that was enough for the blond boy. However, he didn't dare face her.
Paranoia had seeped into his mind and the boy started locking the door, not even trusting people in the house, afraid someone would barge inside and accuse him. Boomer didn't want it to happen, because he wouldn't be able to lie or deny it; it was all true. Being alone was a burden, and it had started taking its toll on him. The boy couldn't sleep, nightmares haunting him, he couldn't bath, afraid a hand would come out of the water and choke him, and he feared the eyes of others. It felt like they could see straight through him, so he avoided it as best he could. He showered now and then so nobody would think he stored bodies inside the hobby room, and occasionally went to dinner, barely able to get anything down.
At first, he hadn't known what the feeling had been. Brick had given him a book to read a couple of months back, and it had been at that point he had realized just what was happening to himself as he witnessed the same thing display in the book. Boomer was feeling guilt.
The text from Butch snapped him out of his thoughts, as he stared at the sunbathing picture. It was warm, and made him feeling even worse. Why he was torturing himself wasn't a good question, because he wanted to feel pain and live with what he had done. It was an address and the blond quickly locked his door, stepping over piles of painting. The girl had been productive, and probably still was if it hadn't been for his father sabotaging for her. Mojo had bought up her employes and quickly turned them against her, leaving her in the dust. When the plan was being put into working, she had disappeared, and he couldn't seem to find her. Now he was back on track.
Stepping up to the window, he opened the curtains and stared into the sundown. It was going to be dark soon, and Boomer honestly didn't know how to approach her. He could knock on the door, but that would just be plain stupid. The girl was blond, but even she would smell that something was up. Besides, he didn't know if he dared look into her eyes without confessing his sins.
Lifting himself up into the air, the blue boy moved outside, closing the window half shut. A dark, blue streak was following behind him as he went from street to street, looking for the spesific one. He didn't know the place well enough to get to it straight away, and fumbled a couple of seconds before ending up in front of a huge block. If the Intel was correct, she lived on the eight floor.
Was he going to take the stairs, elevator? Could he knock on her door? Inhaling deeply, Boomer opened the door and went inside the building. It was on level with the outside, and two steps lead up to the postboxes and the elevator. The roof over him was painted white, and the metal on his side was silver. Nobody was around. Taking the steps in a quick jump, he pressed the button and watched as the light on the top was moving.
His heart started throbbing violently. What was he going to say to her? Would she believe him? Could she take the object out of her free will? What if he broke, and told her everything? And she hadn't known before and then started hating him? Biting the insides of his cheeks, sweat was forming on his forehead. God, this was agitating, he thought and for a second, he considered the stairs. Just fly up them. But, no. He needed the extra time he could get to think things through; what to say, what to do.
The elevator was on the second floor now, and he felt his palm water up. It was sticky and he wiped it off on his jacket, shaking his hands and kept gripping and unclench. The doors came apart with a pleasant ding, and he stepped inside, pulling the hood down into his face, hiding from anyone while pushing the eight, round button on the wall. Tapping his foot, he bit his underlip. Was he just going to tell her to take it? But why, why would she take it? What was the reason he was going to give her. At his office, Mojo had handed him a couple of pictures, and for a second the blond couldn't believe his eyes. It had been his blue counterpart no doubt, yet he couldn't really believe it. It had captured a perfect picture of her blasting the head of a man, giggling like a maniac, followed by her beating someone furiously.
Sweet Bubbles could never do that, but he remembered something Him had told them way back, before they even considered slacking with the usage of their powers. The devil had told them that if they weren't careful and in control of what they were doing, the powers would evolve into something dangerous. The chemical-X was a highly reactive substance and if they were out of balance, it could cause them to explode or loose control. Boomer remembered – not exactly remembered; his brothers had told him after wards – a couple of times blacking out, waking up with his brothers worn out, beaten to the brink of death, laughing at his raw powers. He hadn't known what they had talked about, but laughed it off, not wanting to seem like a pussy.
Could that happen to the girls? Could they lose control of their powers, cave in to darkness and go on a rampage? Somehow, it seemed terrifying, and he shuddered at the thought. Could Bubbles go insane, sent into a killing spree? He had always been evil by birth, but what would it do to the girl? Would it make everything worse, living with knowing she had killed someone? Could Bubbles explode? What if she already was evil and enjoyed murder? Boomer didn't know how he felt about that, but the sinking feeling in his stomach couldn't be good.
The doors were almost close when a hand shoot through and grabbed, stopping it. The elevator opened to make way, and he glanced up at the hurried person. She had long, red hair, and he quickly hid away in the corner as her pink eyes blinked and went to him for a second. Boomer tried his best to hide his face, turning away. What the hell was Blossom doing in this place? The redhead went to push the eight button, before stopping, seeing it was already glowing.
«You're going to eight floor?» she asked, and he jumped for a second, forcefully pushing himself to the ground to not hover up to the roof. She couldn't find out it was him, or did she already know? He nodded his head fast, scared of speaking.
«Oh, that's neat, so am I. At what apartment number do you live?» she asked, turned to him. If he had been sweating before, it was nothing compared to now. Holy shit, she was going to find out if she got a chance to take a look at his face. Deepening his voice to not be recognized, he muttered a random number.
«818? Wow, isn't that funny. I live at 819.» Growling inwards, he cursed his own sloppiness. He sould have picked a lower number. «You could come over some time and get to know-» she halted on her words, eyes widen and mouth twitching. Her brows went from calm to highly terrified, and she bent forward, throwing up. Jumping back to avoid the orange, brown and red content, he felt shocked as he understood it was a mixture of her dinner and blood. The girl gave a high pitched scream before collapsing into the wall behind her and passing out.
Standing there like a mediocre civilian on a monster attack, he stared at her a couple of seconds and blinked rapidly as the elevator dinged, signalizing they had reached the floor of destination. Holy shit, what was he going to do? Just leave her there and make a run for it? She hadn't made any signs of recognizing him, and he needed it to stay that way. On the other hand, was she breathing? What if she had just died? Bubbles would never forgive him then. If he let Blossom die on him – without it actually being his fault – he could check of another person he had taken away from his counterpart. Why not crack Buttercup's scalp at the same time, he growled at himself before picking up the redhead. There was no way in hell he could just leave her on the floor like that.
«Fuck,» he cursed and went into the red hallway, trying to figure out what to do with the girl. Take her to the hospital? He could, but at the moment, the blond was having a panic attack and could only gather his thoughts around her magical number. Now where the fu- he sprinted to his right, reaching the 819th marked door. Knocking on it, the man again felt his brain be yanked out of his head as his counterpart opened. She looked like shit; hair standing everywhere, huge bags under her eyes and such pale skin. When was the last time she had seen the sun?
«Wha-» she managed before seeing Blossom. Eyes wide, breath going and coming in rapid motions, she backed a feet away, hands moving to her face to cover up a gasp.
«What happened?» she said, as her finger touched the redheads cheeks, trying to straighten her loose head. Pulling the both of them inside, she called out her sisters name, breaking the blond boys heart. She sounded so fragile, like her soul was falling apart.
«She collapsed in the elevator on the way up here,» he explained in a low voice. The girl was checking for a pulse, and relaxed a little as her sibling's chest heaved up and down. His counterpart grabbed the girl out of his hands and moved her out of his sight. He stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, weighting if he was going to stay or leave, but the girl returned before he got the chance to make up his mind.
«Looks like she'll be fine. It could just be food poisoning.» She didn't sound so sure herself as she said it, wrinkling her eyebrows while thinking back, trying to remember what could have caused it. «Anyway, thank you so much for taking her here. I don't know what I would have done if someone evil had found her.» And there it was, a dark glimpse at the corner of her eye, making him flinch. The blond snarled barely visible and he snapped after his breath quietly, getting a clear picture of how far she was willing to go. Goosebumps went up his arms as he felt his heart sink to his stomach. What could have caused the innocent Bubbles to become like this? Had she really killed someone?
«By the way.» Her sweet voice was back in place, startling him out of his deep thoughts. «Who are you?» Uh-oh. He was really in it now. Should he lie, keep telling the same joke he had told her sister? He had to, or else they would figure him out.
«Name's Max, i live next door,» he said, making sure to cover his eyes with his bangs. The room was so dark it wasn't a problem for him, as long as she didn't use her x-ray vision.
«Hey, Max. I'm Bubbles,» she chirped. At least, he thought so at first, but something was wrong. She didn't giggle. The girl didn't give him her hand to shake, and she wasn't still talking. «I, uh, have to go check on my sister. Thanks, again,» she said, pushing him out of the door. Right there was also strange, because Bubbles never removed her guests or told them to leave. She was open and a free spirit, always happy to help and be kept company. The door slammed on his face and he strolled away, taking the stairs. Maybe she would recognize him in aftermath, and he wasn't going to take that risk.
Zipping down the stairs and exiting the building, he placed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His fingers brushed against something cold, and he stomped hard, making things slightly shake around him. Luckily, nobody were around to see. The blue boy had totally forgot to ask her to take the object. His mind had not been there at all with the redhead fainting out so randomly and the blond being so little like herself. Mojo was going to kill him.
Moving to the tight alley, he rose from the ground and coursed for back home. No use going back there, it would be too suspicious. He had ruined his chance of the day, but now that he knew where she was, he wouldn't have any problems getting back to her in the future. As long as she didn't move again. Picking up his found, he readied to call his brother. It was none of his business, but given the man cared for him, he could give him a slightly report of the incident.
It chimed a couple of times before his brother picked up, grunting at the other end.
«Yes, Boom?» Brick's raspy voice said. Had he been sleeping, or was he sick? The blond intended to make it short, but couldn't help the question on his lips.
«Are you all right?»
«No worries, bro. It's just something that-» he growled to himself, as if the memory was enough to agitate him; and knowing Brick, it probably was. «- it's nothing. Don't think about it. Why did you call?»
«Uhm,» feeling a little out of it, he blinked to regain his focus, the dark sky shining upon him with several thousand burning eyes. The brightness from the city under him had the boy halter a couple of seconds before pulling himself together. «I was at Bubbles right now. Blossom came in to the elevator at the same time as me. She started asking me stuff, but it didn't seem like she knew who I was, and before I knew it, she puked all over the floor.» A shiver went down his spine, feeling sorry for whoever was going to clean it up. «There wasn't just whatever she had eaten, but blood. Brick, there was a lot of blood.»
«What did you do with her?» Brick said, his clam and chilling voice reaching his ear. He could feel the clench of his jaw, and didn't exactly know what to make of it. Did his redheaded brother care for Blossom? It didn't sound right.
«She told me what the room number was before passing out, of course. So I took her there, not really sure if I was going to rush her to the hospital or anything.» The boy shrugged his shoulder, as if his sibling could see it. «What do you think?»
«No, you did good, Boom. Get back home. It's nothing to worry about,» the man at the other end said, and Boomer wasn't so sure. His brother sounded far away, like hid did when his mind was solving puzzles and making strategies. It meant he was only paying one third attention. Brick knows what's going on, the blond thought. Before he could ask, the man hung up on him. Gritting his teeth, he went faster, reaching home just a couple of minutes later. Entering through the window, his feet touched the floor. He didn't really care if anyone saw his blue street. Most would dismiss it as a shooting star or airplane.
The light from the moon shone up a couple of pictures on the wall, and the blue boy remembered the exact date he had gotten them. Touching a painting of sunflowers, he remembered seeing the blond girl at the museum as she had handed her painting over for money. She had seemed so different today.
The blond didn't have to think long before he sighed, palm on his forehead. He let himself fall backwards, floating a feet over the floor, as if on a cloud. His blue, sad eyes fell on the melancholy moon and he felt something grow in his chest. Grabbing at the jacket, he tried to stop the increasing pain, but it didn't help. He gritted his teeth and moved his head to the side. All of this was his fault. The once glowing, pure girl was tainted with darkness, and all because he wasn't able to plant the object on her.
Taking it out of his pocket, he stared at the small, glass bottle. It had a funny, round shape with a small neck. Like a potion. It had a cap on the top. Turning it around in his hands, he saw something that caught his attention. It was so small, yet there. A small drop of black. In the short amount of time he had spent around her, it had managed to do it's job. She didn't have to wear it, he realized. A thought exploded in his head, and he quickly sat up, eyes as large as sausages.
Once again, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed another number. One he hadn't used in a very long time, but still had. The phone rang longer than the first time, but it got answered.
«Boomer, if you want anything, come downstairs. I don't have the time to be speaking to you on the phone just because you're too lazy to move your legs, and if you don't want to physically walk down here, you can always fly,» the grumpy voice of Mojo Jojo said.
«I need you to buy me something,» the blue boy said.
«Your counterpart, Bubbles, stopped publishing her pictures a long time ago, Boomer.» He already knew that, because it was all his dear father's fault. Swallowing the snarly comment, he went to the issue at hand.
«No, no. Not a picture. I need you to buy me an already in use apartment.» He could practically hear his father think, as the creaking seat was moved, the man taking a deeper seat in the chair.
«What apartment do you have in mind?» His father muttered under his breath, not very sure what to think of this. Specifying where he wanted one, he added inn the room number, 818. It had to be that room.
«And for what purpose am I spending my money on this for?» Mojo asked. Could he tell him? It was never a good idea to keep his father out of anything but personal affairs, and it was part of his mission, after all.
«It's for the commission you gave me.» The dark haired man used a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts around this mysterious request.
«It will be done by tomorrow.» And thus he hung up, not wishing is son a good night or muttering any word of departure at all. Things like that were too trivial and time consuming. Brick was the exact same way, but that didn't bother the blond man. He leaned back and stared at the shining, peaceful city. Boomer loved the night; where he could be himself and nobody were there to judge or watch. He would be in tranquility, floating around with no care in the world. Somehow, he didn't feel bad at nights, his regretful actions forgotten.
«I'm going to make everything right, Bubbles. Just you watch me.»
Buttercup was no longer annoyed. The morning had started with slight irritation from the itching, healing arms. In just over a week, she could move her fingers. Nurses came and went with her medication and food, telling her to slow down and not exhaust her resting muscles. That had been the first thing to ruin her day. The girl was making progress – without it hurting any more – only to get shot down and told to take it easier. Like hell she was going to stop. Hoping to get home earlier, she got too eager and moved too much, too rough. Pain shoot up her whole arm and shoulder, sending jolt of electricity to her brain. It had made her winch in pain, followed by an animalistic growl.
Curse the green ruff for sending her into this ill smelling place and boring room. There wasn't even music to listen to. Blossom was busy with her work – visiting her from time to time to bring cloths, helping her and keeping company, but never for long – and she had no idea where her blue sister was. Knowing the girl, she was probably dreaming away and painting her pictures. Buttercup was proud of her determent picture, but she could come here and release some of her boredom.
Shuffling around in her seat, the girl gritted her teeth. It really hurt, and she felt something had gone wrong inside her arms.
Once looking at the x-ray of her bones, the doctors had brought the news to her with a minor grim face. Being so good at reading people, the girl had instantly understood what it meant. The nurses could lie to Blossom all they wanted, but her arms only had a thirty-seven percent chance of healing back to normal, and that was with a sixty-four success chance operation. She had taken it straight away; not caring to think it through or get her sisters consent. She was twenty-fucking-two year old, and could make such a choice herself. It was her arms, and nobody but herself could tell her where the limit line was; and it certainly wasn't there.
It had been a success, all the nurses and doctors had celebrated, but she didn't feel like it. Trying to move the muscles, they had knocked her out with something to keep her from hurting herself. Apparently she had to keep totally still for two weeks, before even trying to move around. If the orders not heeded, it could cause terminal damage. After a couple of rounds with angry words and groggy sleep, she had managed to convince herself to take it down a notch, so they wouldn't pester her with their company and half worried mood.
When she got out of the hospital, Buttercup promised herself to never take any form for pills or injection anesthetic ever again. Were they trying to get her addicted to it? Sometimes it felt like it. Take four pills now and then, together with the buffet received at breakfast, brunch and dinner, she was rather tired of swallowing the hideous stuff.
It was something she protested on every time she saw the nurse coming, but it wasn't the only thing she hated about the place. It smelled weird, like old people and wet dogs, and there was nothing she could do about it. Not wander around, train, play games or get her energy out. That left Buttercup with only one thing she could do; sleep.
But after so long, even that didn't seem to work. She could only get ten minutes here and there, waking up with horrible pain from turning over, or the feeling of dropping through the air. Groaning, the girl turned to watch the sun set outside the window. Day, night, nothing mattered. It was her, the white walls and the bed. A guests chair was pulled up beside the bed, but even that one had gotten boring. She knew how what it looked like by heart.
Staring at the warm streaks she felt her eyes heavy. Doing nothing exhausted her. Lids heavy, she listened to her breath, felt her torso move up and down with her strong breath, and felt the blod surge through her body. It pulsated in her airs, stung in her eyes and a yawn worked it's way out. She promised herself to never sleep again when she got out. Well, maybe not forever, but at least not for the three next days.
Closing her eyes, she stared up into the darkness of possibilities. Memories and imagination swirled like a cinema on play, and she saw herself getting back to training, skateboarding, bicycling, climbing, playing soccer, basket, floor-ball, run, hit, roll, kick, fly. Her hands were glowing and she felt the pulse of chemical-X throughout her system, making her laugh. It was back! And the first thing she was gonna do, was kick that smug rowdyruff's arse.
Jolting awake after Butch had sent her flying with a kick to the ground, she stared wide eyed at the bright roof. The outside was dark, and only a tiny light from the window in the door streamed on to the floor, half way making the room glow. Sweat pearls ran down her forehead and she struggled to move for a second, before staring down on her immobilized body. Cursing as tears formed at the corner of her eyes, she kicked the bed the best she could, damaging her ribs in the process.
Buttercup gasped from the intense pain and for a split scenario, she gaped for air like a fish on dry land. Inhaling sharply, she managed to calm her body down, together with her freaked out mind. She felt trapped, unable to move her body, understanding how vegetabled people felt. It was horrible.
Calming down, she stilled in the bed. Everything was just so boring. The door slid slightly open and she saw two shadows on the ground. Probably the nurses going to drug her down for being restless. It wasn't quite so, the girl figured as Butch came in sight, followed by his blond brother. Boomer looked nothing like himself. Sure, he had always been small compared to the brute, but never so pale and tired before. Hissing, the puff glared.
«You've come to kill me?» Butch was calm, something unusual for him, and it sent her into a mad believing that he actually was. «I swear, if you fucking touch me-» the threat hung in the air as a hand stopped her from finishing the sentence.
«I'm not here to kill you, butterfly.» The pet name was something the green used when being half serious. Buttercup remembered how the man had called her it in a tiny moment on high school, straight after the incident. The ruff had seemed honestly sorry about it, and she had told him to back off, emotions raging with sadness and confusion; anger and blame toward herself for being incapable of preventing it.
A hand went through his hair, and Boomer stood there awkwardly, finding the wall rather interesting. Some things never changed; they were the spit images of themselves, like they had been their entire life. Butch had always been taller and bigger than the blue boy, and Boomer was his abnormal, unpleasant self.
«Boomer is here to fix your broken arms.»
«What?» she said, eyes darting from head to head, looking for the taunting stare. Neither had one, and she went in for a glare. It had to be a trick. «And why would he do that?»
«Because he owes me one, but it's not going to be free.» Crossing his arms over his beef chest, the girl gritted her teeth. Getting out of her early was so tempting, but Butch was going to ask something impossible of her. Making her do something she would regret her whole life, or something even worse.
«And exactly what do you want in return?» the woman growled. If she could, she would tackle him and strangle the smug smirk on his face. How she hated the ruff.
«I want you to come and work for me.»
«I was,» she snarled. «But you just had to go and get me fired.» He prowled over to her, his feet making no sound on the blank floor. Despite his size, he had always been a great athletic, and if living a couple of hundred years back, made an excellent thief. Taking the chair beside her bed, like he had done all weak – expect for that very day- , constantly peeking in and visiting her, the girl tilted her head and glared.
«Besides, it's your fault I'm in this place.» He folded his fingers together, leaning back in the chair. The way his muscles relaxed, made her wonder if he had been working out all day. So many days at the gym, she could recognize the soreness of muscles.
«Na, you did that to yourself,» he grimaced, as if not even believing it himself. Not that he was going to admit it was his fault; he was built just like her. Stubborn and difficult. «Do you even know your own limits?» he said, a dark look shoot her way under his brows. It set a fire in her going and she wormed down in the bed and kicked him straight in the face. She could feel it hurting, but so was he. Stumbling backwards, he sent her a death glare, rising his arms, ready to jump her. A hand fell upon his shoulders, holding him back. Brothers locked eyes for a few seconds, before the green ruff calmed down, hissing. Her foot was throbbing, but she felt good for the first time in days. If the kick had hurt him like that, it meant her powers were returning. That explained her semi quick recovery on her own.
«I want you to work for me,» the green man said, standing away from her. He wasn't scared; Butch wasn't scared of anything and laughed danger up in the face, his battle cry sounding something like 'to Valhall!'. The only reason he put distance between them, was so he could come there and get his business over with without strangling her. It didn't make her more cooperative.
«You spilled your chance, bitch,» Buttercup spat, but it only wrapped a smirk on his face. In a quick movement, he wrapped his fingers around her small, delicate neck. He wasn't squeezing, moving or hurting her. The green ruff was just making sure she understood that he was capable of doing it.
«I will pay better than the bar,» he whispered, forest green orbs locking with lime ones. Her tan skin was smooth under his touch, breath tickling her cheek. «It will be a job with physical movements, and you get to beat people up.»
«I'm not turning in to a villain, like you,» she growled, hair standing at end. He softly placed his forehead on hers, sending a small spark between them. She gritted her teeth at their touch, not sure what to make of it. If it hadn't been for her disability, she would grab his collar and beat the living shit out of him. How dared he touch her so casually? Like they were friends!
«It's no one good, just bad people.» The girl snorted.
«You fancy yourself as one of the good guys now?»
«Na, no,» he muttered, eyes wandering over her face. He noticed a couple, not many, freckles on her cheeks. They were barely visible, camouflaging against her light maroon skin. «I'm the bad guy, but the job isn't like that.»
«Man, you're making no sense.»
«Not right now, maybe.» He leaned into the side of her head, whispering into her ear. «Besides, if I don't get what I want, I will make sure to let it go out on your sisters. Visit sweet, little Bubbles, disturb Blossom at work. Who knows, accidents does happen.» Widening her eyes, Buttercup started tossing around, trying to bite him. The man pulled away, a neutral facial expression.
«Don't you fucking dare ever think about touch them!» She yelled, eyes shining with the seven hells wrath. Shrugging his shoulders, trying to hide a smirk without actually trying, he rose an eyebrow at her.
«If you join me, Boomer here will fix the damage, and I will leave your sisters alone, forever.» Wetting her lips, Buttercup didn't have to think long before making up her mind. Setting her sisters in danger? Out of the question. She would find a way around this. Bowing her head a little forward, she hissed out a 'fine'. Nodding his head, the blue man moved up to the side of the bed. Lifting his arms over the plaster, she saw his hands faintly glow. It felt warm around her arms, and increased until she flinched. It felt like her hand was on fire, moving, bending and wriggling, blood boiling and stinging. Luckily, it turned into a numbness, and before long, she sighed as it filled her with new found energy. The man moved his hands down to his sides, and proceeded to move to the other side. She stared at her fingers as they moved with ease, not hurting.
A smile broke into her face as the boy worked on the other arm. He took a few moments to ease the pain in her stomach, before moving away, staring at his brother.
«It's done.»
«Good, you may leave,» Butch nodded, and his brother didn't stick around to be asked twice, hurling out the door. They listened to his steps disappear before the man moved up to her bed side and watched as she struggled to get out of the hard house around her arms. Glancing at him between her flexing, she was not going to degrade herself to ask him for help. No way. He could go fuck himself.
«Didn't visitation hours close some time back?» she said, not being able to stand the silence and his amused grin.
«What, you really think I asked for permission to come here?» he gave her a long look, and she rolled her eyes. Of course not. Butch never asked for anything unless he had to, and even then he would take it if receiving a negative answer. Exactly like he had just done. She pushed her hand in and out, trying her best to make some kind of break in the hard material. It didn't falter under her toil.
«So what kind of work are you going to set me to?» she asked, talking away the embarrassment of her currently state. If only she had her powers, she could blast the stupid thing apart, followed by his stupid presence.
«Think of it as a guard dog job. I call for you when I need someone to kick someone's ass, and you do it.» Rolling her eyes, she started banging her hands together, hoping they would crush each other.
«That's the lamest thing I've ever heard.» A thought flickered and she sent him a very confident smirk. «So the big bad Butch needs someone to do his work for him?» She laughed loud, and raw. The man tsked.
«The dirty work, you whore.» Butch laughed as she kicked at him again, this time expecting it, and easily dodged out of the way.
«Go fuck yourself, asshole,» She said, and moved out of bed, after him. Her hair was standing on ends and her eyes flustered with fire and fighting spirit.
«I'm handsome enough for it, but I'd rather do you,» the man winked and her face turned a new shade of red. Charging him, she moved her hand backwards, turning her whole body in the process and losing balance, tumbling and crashing with the floor. The man laughed while holding his stomach, and Buttercup kept still, hiding her red face from embarrassment. Stupid stuff, stupid Butch, stupid hospital. Where was her powers when she needed them? Why was this happening to her? Frustrated, she felt tears at the corner of her eyes. Remembering the idiot, she quickly shook them off and scrambled to get up. Her stiff arms wasn't much to help, but her strong legs managed it with some difficulties.
Bored, or maybe tired of the joke, Butch grabbed a hold of her stiff arm and lifted her up in one quick movement. She pulled it to herself and he let her, hissing at him like a cat seeing a dog.
«I don't need your help!»
«I can see that,» he muttered, eying her up and down. Groaning to himself, he took a grip of the hard material around her arms, and squeezed. She whimpered low in pain and kicked after him, demanding to know what he was doing. Butch felt it snap, then moved lower, doing it all the way out to her hand while fighting off the enraged banshee. Done, he drew it off her hand, the girl studying the incoming bruises, but stopped fighting him and let him do it on the other side. They were silent as he worked, and she only twitched her eyes from the brute force he displayed. If only she had her powers, she wouldn't have needed him to he- oh, hold that thought. There was no way Butch was helping her; he was simply assisting her. A very small portion of assisting, she told herself.
The silence was kind of good, like a truce, and finishing his arm, he went for her chest. She back stepped and held a hand up.
«No way. These are just bandages, I can do them myself.» Shrugging, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against a wall. His eyes watched her work, and she turned away from him, feeling a light flush creep up. God damn pervert.
«I'm going home,» she muttered and packet her things together, not sure if to thank him for the healing and hel- assistance. Deciding against it, she placed a pack with her cloths over her shoulder. Her muscles were stiff from the stillness the last week, but it definitely felt good to move around. As young, she had spent a couple of days there to completely heal up after fighting the boys. The professor had been very persistent on it.
«I can take you there, it's quite a long walk,» the ruff said, and she glanced at him from over her shoulders. How the hell did he know where she lived? Shaking her head, she opened the door and entered the hallway. It was a miracle with all their screaming and banging that none of the nurses had come around to stop them. The white walls were empty, and a chill went down her spine. She hated hospitals.
«You sure, because I don't min-»
«Why are you doing this?» she whirled around, staring him straight in the eyes. She couldn't understand him. In one moment, he was calling her a whore and being is usual, exhausting self, and in the next, he tried to be a pussy with his concern and out of place worry. Worried and concerned wasn't the description of Butch. He was the opposite. Butch didn't care for others, let alone his arch nemesis. The man wasn't making any sense, taking her to the hospital, paying for her bills, now wanting to take her home; at the same time insulting and hurting her. What the hell was going on? What was he up to?
Shrugging his shoulders, she groaned and went back to her walking. Once an idiot, always an idiot. Like hell she was going to let him take her home.
«Suit yourself,» he snorted and went the other way. Probably a quick exit, she figured. The green girl herself had to check out, if she didn't want any more bills. It was dark and warm, but creepy. People were sleeping on the other side of the doors she passed, and she couldn't seem to notice any nurses on the way, and good was that. They might try to convince her to get back to bed. Snorting, she found the entrance and the check in point. A lonely woman was sitting there, har hand on a cup of coffee. Her dark orbs scanned the computer for something.
«Hey,» Buttercup said as she leaned over the counter. The asian woman stared up from the screen and blinked a couple of times before staring down at her file. Her green orbs managed to notice a picture of herself before it was quickly closed.
«Oh, uh, shouldn't you be in bed?» The woman stared at her arms, and Buttercup groaned.
«No, they're fine. I'm checking out.»
«You- I- No. At best, you need to rest for two months, seven more weeks,» the woman blinked rapidly.
«Listen. I don't like hospitals, I'm fine, and I don't need to stay here any more, so check me out.» Opening and closing her mouth, she drew a deep breath out of her nose before ripping off a blank piece of paper, scribbling something on it.
«I understand,» she said while handing her it. Glancing on it, the girl noticed it was a number. She quickly placed in her inside pocket of the jacket. «If anything happens, the arms starts hurting or you're having difficulties breath; call the number and don't hesitate to come back.» She typed on the computer, and turned it to show Buttercup she was written out of the system as healthy.
«Thanks,» the brunette nodded and left, hoping to never return again, even if it meant her life.
Alright! That's chapter 4! Hope it didn't go too slow or was too boring. I understand there might be a slow romance involved, but please consider that the puffs and ruffs actually hate each other. Would you hook up with someone you hate, days or a week after you met again? I know I wouldn't.
SweetAngel98: Thank you for the review! No, I don't mind at all. I'm happy people make me aware of my mistakes so I can fix them for later readers, or rereaders. And you're honestly not being blunt, rude or anything of that sort. It inspires me to be better and watch out more carefully. So thank you so much for everything; reading, reviewing and helping me progress.
BlueScarlet465: Hehe, your comment had me laughing and smiling. Thank you so much for leaving one. I hope it's not too frustrating to read, but I promise everything will become clearer into further chapters. Thank you for reading and reviewing; it warms my heart.
FangirlingIsMyHobby: To be fair, it's just the third chapter, the ruffs and puffs hate each other like always, and they've really not given each other any reason to fall in love. Brick doesn't care, simply because he doesn't care. Bubbles is isolating herself, and Buttercup, well yeah, something caused her to loose her powers. I hope this isn't too agonizing to read, and that you hate it. Thanks for the review and faithful read. I understand if it's not good enough for you, but I hope you will keep reading with this in mind.
OLOLOLOLO: Hey, thanks for returning to the story! And thank you so much for those kind words! It is nice to hear people appreciating my work. I'm glad you like it, and hope the rest lives up to your expectations.
A big thanks to DiaXDao14 for following this story and adding it to your favorite. And a special thanks to all the silent readers out there; you're all awesome! Cheers!
Comment a lot and I will update fairly fast! Until next time.
