My writing motivation seems to be working in overtime. Have another update! Here we see Buttercup finally opening up after an unfortunate event. Worried about the pacing? Don't be. The story's not over yet. ;) Happy reading! -Delly
The Professor, with Bubbles and Blossom in tow, walked down the stark white hallways of the building. Doors lined the hallways, and they passed by many of them. Each door had several names written on a dry-erase board. Bubbles was able to peek into one of the open doors, and noticed that the rooms had several beds in them. She wasn't quite sure where exactly they had gone to. The Professor simply told them that this was where Buttercup has been for the last three days, and they were going to pick her up…
-
It had been 3 days since Buttercup went missing, and that was a feeling that the Professor never wanted to experience ever again. He remembered his heart skipping a beat when his two daughters had told him that they couldn't find Buttercup in the house. He ran outside, hoping that he would find her in the backyard. With no such luck, he and the girls then tried several of the neighbors. Nobody had seen Buttercup in days. Nobody had even seen her walking around the neighborhood. Knowing how unsafe Townsville is, the Professor assumed the worst-case scenario. Nonetheless, he called 9-1-1 to report his daughter missing.
Blossom and Bubbles had been forbidden to go outside and search for their lost sister, despite how badly they had wanted to do so. No, the Professor wasn't risking another one of his children going missing. Bubbles sat in their room, at her desk she designated for drawing. But inspiration could not strike in her grief-stricken mind. She doodled aimlessly. Using a green crayon, she drew the form of her sister. A black crayon and some scribbles marked her hair, indicating it was Buttercup she was drawing. Most telling about Bubbles, however, was that she drew her sister with a smile. She moved to the window of her bedroom. Looking out, she rested her chin on the window sill, hoping more than anything that she would catch a glimpse of her sister.
Blossom tried to take her mind off the situation by immersing herself in a book. She chose an easy read, The Bean Trees. As she read of the many adventures of Taylor and her reluctantly adopted daughter, Turtle, the thought of her sister still nagged the deep recesses of her mind. She couldn't focus on the literature. Putting the book down, she decided that she needed to be more productive. She had gone downstairs, asking the Professor if there were any chores that needed to be done. He replied blankly that, no, there wasn't. He had done them all. He didn't even look at her, he simply stared at the phone next to him.
It took several hours. Several agonizing hours before the child would finally be found. The Professor stood by the phone, refusing to move. He did not eat, or sleep. He barely blinked. His mind raced with every possible fate that could have befallen her adopted daughter. What if some predator had taken advantage of her vulnerable state and abducted her? Or worse? He shuddered at the thought. Tears formed in his eyes as he imagined a scenario no parent wants to imagine: a call saying that the search was over. A body has been found and is waiting on positive identification.
The Professor didn't have time to break out in ugly tears before the phone rang. He grabbed the phone in lightning speed and choked out a small "hello?" The voice on the other end of the phone was the voice belonging to the police chief, Mr. Boulder, who he had spoken to earlier when he had filed the missing person's report.
"Mr. Utonium, we've found your daughter."
-
The halls of the building smelled so sterile, so incredibly clean. But it was eerie how empty the building felt. The only people they had seen were nurses wearing scrubs, who Bubbles has surmised had worked there. But this didn't look like any hospital she had seen before. Why would Buttercup be in a hospital anyway? She wasn't hurt. Bubbles was tired of speculating. She wanted answers. She walked to the Professor's side and looked up at him. "Professor, what happened to Buttercup? Is she sick?"
The Professor looked down at the blonde, and over to Blossom, who was walking on the other side of him. He figured that Blossom had not known the exact details of Buttercup's current situation, but that she potentially had a small idea. He didn't have a chance to explain before they stopped in front of a door. The door was 3C, and the girls recognized the name "Buttercup" written on the dry erase board among probably 6 or 7 others. The door was shut, so the Professor took this opportunity to try and explain the situation to his daughters.
"Bubbles, Blossom," he spoke to both of them. "This is a hospital, yes, but this is not a hospital you go to if you're sick or injured."
Blossom nodded, "so, this is a mental hospital?"
The Professor nodded, deciding not to think too hard about why or how Blossom had known of such things. To his knowledge, Buttercup nor her sisters had ever been kept at a mental hospital before. "Yes, this is a mental hospital. After Buttercup ran away, she was taken to a regular hospital to make sure she was okay. Remember when we visited her, Bubbles?" He asked the blonde, who returned his question with a small nod. "Well, the regular hospital decided that Buttercup needed to stay here for a couple of days," the Professor continued, "so that they can watch her closely and make sure she doesn't try to run away again. We don't want that, right?" Bubbles and Blossom nodded in unison.
"No! That was very scary!" Bubbles shouted out, hugging the picture she had drawn for her sister to her chest. "We didn't know where she was and we waited soooo long before they found her!" The blonde was nearly shouting, and the Professor was worried that Buttercup, who was inside the room, would hear her. He tried to quiet the hysterical blonde down by shushing her gently.
"Now, girls," he murmured, addressing the two of them. "Buttercup is still hurting now. Let's remember to try and be especially nice to her and not hurt her feelings or make her feel bad about what happened. Understand?"
"We understand," Blossom answered, hugging his chest quickly and then backing away, allowing her father to open the door for them.
They walked inside. The room was almost as bare as the walls that the three had just walked down. Like their old orphanage, there were several beds in this room. Some kids about Buttercup's age were in the room as well. Some noticed the family enter, others didn't. Buttercup was seen in one of the beds closest to them.
She was sitting on top of the sheets, wearing a simple green t-shirt, and some shorts. Despite sitting on a bed, she also wore shoes. Bubbles thought it was silly that Buttercup's shoes didn't have any shoelaces on it, and she wanted to giggle. But then she remembered what her father had told her about not making fun of Buttercup, and so she stopped herself. Buttercup's jet-black hair sat in a messy mop on top of her head. It was obvious that, without her adopted father or her sisters to do her hair for her, it was neglected by the small child.
Bubbles initiated a greeting with her sister. She ran up to the side of her bed and presented the picture to her. "Buttercup! I drew this picture for you. Look, it's all three of us. Me, you and Blossom! Do you love it?" She grinned up at her sister.
Although being almost sickly-sweet was just part of Bubble's unique personality, and she didn't expect to get much of a reaction out of Buttercup, the blonde was surprised when she saw her sister turn her head, smile, and gently take the drawing from her. She eyed it carefully. "I love it," she murmured.
Bubbles squealed out and jumped up on the bed next to Buttercup, hugging her neck and placing a small pecking kiss on her cheek. Blossom soon joined her. "We missed you so much, Buttercup." The redhead ran her fingers through her sister's black hair, brushing some of the random strands from her eyes and forehead. She hugged her as well, pressing their cheeks together, and eliciting a small chuckle from Buttercup. The Professor was the last to join them as he walked to Buttercup's bed side.
"Are you ready to go, sweetie?" He smiled down at the happy reunion from the three sisters. But once he was closer to Buttercup, he realized just how disheveled she really looked. Dark purple skin lined the bottom of her eyes and she looked… unusually thin. He wondered if she had eaten at all the entire time she had been here. A hospital wristband hung loosely around her right arm, and she looked paler than normal. He would be sure that she got all of her favorite foods for the next few days. Anything had to be better than this terrible hospital food. He wanted to wince at the thought.
Buttercup nodded, jumping down the bed. She stretched her arms out and spoke mid-yawn, "yeah, let's get outta here."
"I promise Blossom hasn't farted on your side of the bed too much while you were gone," Bubbles giggled a whisper to Buttercup as they left the room, her giggles getting louder when she felt a jab in the rib from the redhead and a frustrated groan.
-
It was getting late in the Utonium household, and the Professor was getting ready to put the three girls to bed. While Bubbles and Blossom waited patiently for their father to tuck them in, Buttercup was absent. She was in the Professor's bedroom. Sitting on his bed, facing him. She looked meek and she held her green blanket to her cheek, trying to find comfort in the soft material. She had decided that nightgowns, despite the fact her sisters loved them, weren't really for her. So her pajamas consisted of a t-shirt and pajama shorts, since she would get exceptionally hot during the summer nights, making her unable to sleep.
The Professor quickly realized that Buttercup did not particularly enjoy physical affection like her sisters did. Many attempts at close physical contact with her didn't elicit much of a reaction from her. She didn't react negatively, or positively. Just neutrally. Therefore, he simply sat next to her. He sucked in a breath of air through his nostrils, and then spoke.
"How are you feeling, Buttercup?" He asked simply.
"Pretty dumb," she answered.
"And why is that?" He tried to prod her to express her feelings as best as he could. He didn't want to push her, but he wanted her to try and open up to him. The moment she looked uncomfortable, he would stop.
Buttercup averted her gaze, "B-because what I did was really stupid…"
The Professor sighed. He wanted to say, well yes, and agree with her. But he knew this wasn't the time. Talking to her was like walking on eggshells. He would have to be very careful with her. "Sweetie, it's okay. I am not mad, and your sisters aren't mad, either. They're happy to have you back. They were worried sick about you." He leaned down to her and rested a hand gently on her back. "And… I was too," he admitted to her.
Buttercup looked up at him, her green eyes glistening. "I…I have caused you and my sisters nothing but trouble since I got here," she murmured and looked down at her hands, frowning. "Maybe you should just take me back to the orphanage…"
"That's not happening," the father figure replied quickly in a very rarely used, stern voice, which surprised even the usually-stoic Buttercup. "I adopted the three of you as a trio, and I will not separate you three. I will take care of you and make sure nothing happens to you, Buttercup." She looked up at him, and he continued speaking, "…and that goes for your sisters as well." She gave a small nod at this.
"What you did was wrong, Buttercup, and I know that you know that," he continued to talk to her in a stern tone. Her eyes widened slightly as she felt the Professor begin to pick her up. He turned her to face him, and his expression softened and the serious tone of his voice was replaced by his usual, gentle one, "…but that's in the past. It's said and done. We can't change it now. You're not going anywhere. You're staying here with me, and your sisters. I will personally make sure that you never end up in that terrible place ever again. You will have a comfortable place to sleep and eat and you can have everything you could ever ask for, here. Do you understand?"
Another nod. "Mmhm…"
He smiled at this answer, albeit rather short. He gently brought her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "Please, Buttercup, don't ever scare me like that again," he murmured to the child.
She pressed her cheek against his chest, and the Professor felt tiny arms wrap around his torso, hugging him in a very small, gentle, Buttercup-hug.
"I promise, dad…"
