Chapter 10. A chance at romance
Several weeks later
Bubbles rested her head at her left shoulder, eyes half open and arms crossed. Leaning against the wall in the bright store, staring as people came and went, she seemed bored. In truth, she was observing every single one of them as if they were terminal ill. Her blue eyes were darkened by a misty shadow, breath low and calm, one finger tapping at the skin on her arm. The nail scratched at the surface, but she didn't mind. In a way, it helped her stay down on earth and not drift off to a different, more dangerous place.
She wondered how easy it was to strangle someone. Would they struggle, how hard would they fight, wriggle? What would it sound like, what would it look like? Would the cry, beg her to stop, kick, cry and scream? Could one scream when being strangled? One had to wonder, would she like it? Would it make her feel good, laugh? How, what, when indeed.
«Bubbles,» a voice called at her, and she turned her murderous stare. A blond man was giving her a stern look with a smile of understanding. His blue eyes were deep as the ocean – would they be as deep or deeper if he was six feet under – and he placed a hand on her shoulder. It had an instant effect, making her blink away the haze.
«Gosh, I did it again, didn't I? How silly -» she tried to explain herself, but he just shook his head. Boomer understood far too well, and he had made it a habit of saving her several times each day. And she was grateful. Ever so grateful for his assistance and help, because the gods knew she wasn't able to keep herself from slipping in to madness.
«It's okey. I'm here. I'll always be here. Even when you don't need me, I'll be here.» He was responsible for the shopping, seeing they had a couple unfortunate events when the blonde female had allowed herself to wander off.
Into the second day of crying, self blaming and completely rubbish stories – he couldn't make anything real out of what she was saying, seeing she blabbered and didn't exactly say what had happened or what she had experienced – they had agreed that because they were the blues, they had the largest affinity for madness.
They were the part of the super group that was sensitive, easily affected and emotional. It only made sense that Him was trying to get to them, because their minds were so easily crushed under his strong mentality.
«Do you ever relapse?» she found herself asking, knowing it was a very insensitive of her. Boomer had told her he knew what she was going through, how he had spent a couple summers and 'emergency base camps', as Him had called it, in hell. The blue ruff never said what the emergency had been, though. At first, she hadn't believed him. What she saw, her nightmares, the killing, laughter, darkness, it was too real for her. How could anyone else have been a victim to it, Boomer, the son of Him at that? Even if he was the devil, he wouldn't do that. The ruffs were his sons. But Boomer had told her things, how lively and scary the experiences could be, how mind breaking it was. How every small fragment of it was tearing her apart, piece by piece.
Said ruff glanced at her, there they were walking down the street. He had handed her a small flask a couple of weeks back, one he had swore would help her. It would make her feel more in control, and soak up the evil. At first, it had seemed like a joke, but the closer she kept it she realized he was right. It was slowly filling with an oily material. It was giving of a sinister vibe.
Bubbles had wanted to empty it a couple of days back, but he had gone off the grid. What would happen if she emptied the evil out in drinkable water? Both humans and animals would be affected, and it would eventually tear them apart. Pants would rot and the soil become infertile. She couldn't do that. So she kept it on her, and the cork tight shut. Like Pandora's box.
The girl didn't show it to her sisters. Telling them that Him had tainted and got to her and she was currently on a homicidal rampage and unstable? Anything could thick her off, make her lash out to the closest human and demand their death, like hades on a giggling Sunday. Couldn't tell the girls that. She didn't have to heart to. They had enough on their mind already, besides, she lived alone. Blossom had moved out – claimed she had enough money to fend for herself as the first pay check had rolled in – and Buttercup was still in a coma.
Surely the green sister wouldn't mind her using the place until she woke up, and she was stable enough to live on her own and get a job without being a danger to everyone around her. Boomer was helping. She was getting better. She really was.
He didn't say anything. The ocean orbs of the ruff studied her, and even if she hated when he did that, she knew he needed to do so before taking the right path. Through their time spent together – it was like old times, when they had been children and played games in secret from their siblings – he had learned to see the warnings signs surfacing, how to deal with the situations and when to encourage her.
Bubbles hated people touching her. After the horrible experience, she shun all human and animal contact, because she wasn't confident enough in herself. The girl that had tricked her out, later reviled itself as one of Him's minions, had gotten close to her, and it had almost ended in her taking another life. She couldn't do that. The melancholy blonde would rather end her own life; which made it that more difficult when she couldn't control her murderous tendencies. A part of her was morphing to Buttercup; so quick to action, and leaving the brain behind. It made her uncomfortable to not be able to behave herself.
After he had embraced her for public display, she had separated herself from him, but kept crying. Hours upon hours had she muttered what was on her mind, how she was struggling and what was wrong, without making any sense. In some way, they both were fine with it. Boomer didn't need to know the horrible details to understand the grotesque in everything. He only had to stare at her, see her hurting, and be there. It was enough for her.
They had talked after that, a lot. The blonde was afraid that her mind would force a meltdown if she took her time to breathe and let reality sink in, but Boomer only listened. He didn't hurry her along, demanded an accurate explanation nor toyed with anything to push away his boredom. The ruff seemed genuinely concerned and interested in her madness of a blabber, and she loved him for it. He hadn't changed.
Within a couple of days, he had managed to drag her out of the house. It had been a stroll around the block, before she had ran back inside with a heavy chest and tears in her eyes, but he didn't bark at her when he caught up. Boomer had been smiling, praising her for her courage and progress. The trust he lay in her was enough to make her keep going, to push herself harder. It was enough to encourage her to take the initiate. To try. To dare.
«I used to,» Boomer's dark, silky voice found its way into her lost mind, drawing her attention to him. Following his gaze, she stared at the light in the distance. Like most government properties, they were mass produced, but one lamp pole was different. It was smaller than the rest, and instead of a bright, white light, it was a dirty yellow covering the street. A large was making its back crocked.
She knew it very well. It had sort off become a landmarking to them, and from it, they could go anywhere they wanted. It was a four way road, and only imagination could prevent them from going on an adventure. Even if it wasn't the pretties out of them, or the one with the brightest light, it brought found memories to her. Boomer had told her funny jokes. They had raced. She hadn't killed anyone there. The place was radiating happiness. She found the corner of her lip twitch upward.
«When I was younger, I used to get these black out. You girls never saw it, because it seemed to be triggered at random times, like a teen boys boner. No controlling that.» Giggling, she glanced at him with a roll of her eyes. Boomer was the softest of the ruffs, but he would say anything to make her smile. And she let him. Even back in the good old days, she would laugh at his jokes and add fuel to his confidence. Much like he was doing now. He was quiet and hesitant before he picked up the subject again.
«I don't remember much, other than waking up feeling sore everywhere and sleeping for days after, but Butch always laughed at how awesome it was, and Brick would approve of it. From what I could understand from bits and pieces, it made me go into a frenzy and attack everything. Knowing my green brother, he loves to fight and takes any chance to jump someone if it meant just that.»
«But you can't remember?»
«No, not much. Just a flow of emotions and power, before everything goes black.» The boy shrugs. The light was red, and the watched a car softly accelerate past them. A man, brown in the hair and dark eyes, sitting in the passenger seat winked at her as they passed. She merely ignored him. Unconsciously, her eyes wandered over to the safe ruff. His foot was tapping the asphalt impatiently.
«I remember everything.»
«We've been through this,» Boomer sighed. They had been. It had been a topic of subject for a couple of weeks, where she would find new and clever ways to ask him another angle of things that eventually lead up to the same.
«There is nothing wrong with you, Bubbles. Him is the one playing with your thoughts. He's making you feel like you're going crazy, and that's why you have to kick back with twice the force. Flip him the finger. Probably not a smart idea, but hey. Even the devil will be flipped one day.» More laugh. No emotion. Truth be told, it felt like she was lying with her fake laughter and responsibility avoidance. If they could just go back and undo what had been done, everything would be fine. She could move on. Or wipe her memories. She could also do that. Whatever was stuck with her now, was just too strong, and she was so tired.
«There is still this feeling, you know? Like it's not just Him inside my head, rearranging my code and randomly composing my personality, but something else. Something that actually is a part of me, but not me. It wants to take control, and it would be so much easier to just let it. Maybe it isn't something from Him and can deal with this? Because I can't, Boomer. I'm so tired.»
«Bubbles,» he lovingly said her name, making her heart skip a beat while snapping for a breath, but when his hand rose to land on her shoulder, she dodged away. The male wasn't hurt by her action, but he had a small hope every time that she had gotten far enough back to let him. Bubbles hadn't. She wasn't sure she ever would. He withdrew his hand, face turned away. Instinctively, her hand reached for her pocket with the small, transparent ball. It was almost filled up, and maybe then. At that point, the evil would be gone, and she might give the touching a chance.
«It's almost over,» was the only thing he said, before they both went silent. When Boomer had insisted on staying with her and helping, the silence had been so awkward. She always felt like she needed to say something, as if talking would break it up. After everything she had been through, she didn't like talking any more. It felt forced, made her just nod and answer with one word, hoping people would just go away. Boomer didn't expect anything off her. He didn't talk much himself, he didn't give her the mean stare, and he wasn't needy. Whenever he was thirsty, he drank. When he needed to eat, he went shopping – it intrigued how he always came back after telling her he wouldn't be gone for long, and what the purpose of his trip was – and gladly used their kitchen to make food. When he needed to go, he went.
The blue boy was big on instant food, and he never ate much, which was one of their breaking points. She loved cooking. The mixing of spices, boiling, roasting, taking the time to perfect the meat. They had eaten each their own at first, until she caught him staring with huge eyes. It had been her first time smiling around him, the sound of his stomach loudly complaining to its master. No, he couldn't possibly intrude and take her food like that. Oh, please. Could she eat a whole chicken of her own? Hell no, now get over here.
Things were smoother after that. They shared interests; movies, hobbies, reading material, animals, food, drinks. Favourite moment in childhood. First kiss. Biggest trip outside town, friends, most embarrassing moment. After a couple of weeks of that, they just watched movies and shows together. They both knew the time was getting there, but neither could wait. And of course, there was the trips. As she progressed, he went further and further away, but stuck close enough in case something bad happened.
The trip to the store had been yet another victory, which he had left her and went out of sight to pick up the supplies. For over ten minutes had she managed to be alone, before her mind had started drifting off to the thoughts of gore and murder, and she had been seconds away from trashing the poor place when he had kept his promise. He anchored her, loosened enough for her to wander further and further, but yanked her back when she was about to trip.
The door went shut behind her, the lock clicking. That treacherous sound always reminded her off how she had let Ace take her green sisters money, and she needed to get it back, one day. When she was strong enough to face him, she would. That much she owed Buttercup for keeping her off the street.
It was getting late in the year, and the weather could be quite harsh, so she always wore a beanie and a coat with high boots. Boomer always insisted on leaving the hat behind, because it ruined his perfect hair, but he did use a jacket. A dark one with sippers. Hard to ever think he had superpowers, because he was as ordinary as they came. Bright smile, warm eyes and ashen hair.
Bubbles looked like the American version of the grudge; with her long, blonde hair and tired eyes, standing in a corner and staring creepily at everyone. The only reason she didn't get thrown out of stores was because the ruff was with her. Maybe they thought she was the crazy sister he was trying to normalize. Probably.
«What had you planned for dinner, anyway?» he threw a bedazling smile of his shouder. He was handsome and he knew it, used it to his advantage, together with the puppy look and innocent – he wasn't, mind you – behavior. It was odd, seeing him like that. Back in high school, she had been the happy one, overcompensating for the loss of the professor, and clowned and laughed at everything. She had grived him, cried several nights in her room and played a role when people were watching. Until it had become her. It only took her a month to realize the professor would want her to be happy, to laugh and live her life like she wanted to. So she had.
Her counterpart had been gloomy, quiet, withdrawn. He didn't speak in class, he slept and ignored the rest, drifting by each day like a ghost of himself. They were still friends, but not as much as when they had been younger. In her last year, she didn't see him. They took different classes and went their different ways.
Now he was her. At least, the way she had been back then when she had found her love for painting and pursued it. A laugh fell flat on her lips and she shook her head. She was Boomer and he was Bubbles. She could live with that. People used to say she was a sunshine in their time of need, and that is what she needed.
«Chicken marsala. It's easy to cook and doesn't take long.» the blonde followed him into the kitchen, the groceries on the table.
«Sounds familiar. Does it have pasta?»
«No,» she chuckled, fishing out some of the ingredients from it, before ordering him to put the rest in place. He had been there long enough to know where things were suppose to be, and the little ordering she did was great for both of them. He didn't mind helping – he couldn't read minds, he appreciated her asking him to do things instead of him guessing what she wanted – and she got to boss around one of the richest people in the world.
«Flour,» she ordered as the salt, pepper and olive oil was placed on the bench, ready for use. Taking out a cutting board and knife, she parted the cloves from the garlic and started slashing them into thin, fine pieces. Some of the white powder became airborne as he crashed it down beside her. Leaning over, like a child, he stared at her work. Must be wonderful being rich, having everything served for you. She wondered if he even knew how to cut vegetables, rinse and prepare food.
«You're too close,» she warned with the knife lifted as she felt his heat on her back. In reality, she wanted to lean in closer and stay like that, but fear was boiling in her soul. She couldn't, would let herself become attached to him. Boomer could take care of himself if she went batshit crazy, but what if she started liking him? He was a ruff. No doubt he would laugh at her and break her heart if he ever found out. Even if he was the blue one.
«My apologies,» he smirked – she could feel him do it – as he moved away and stood by her side, enough space between them to react if she threw something after him. They had been there, done that, but he kept on testing the limits. She hated it, but it was also good for her. He always got closer and closer, and gave her enough time to collect her thriving emotions before giving it another go.
The last things she needed was the mushrooms, fresh parsley and dry marsala wine. In the time they had been there, she had tough him how to make an omelet, cook bacon – miraculously, he had managed to burn them the first time, making the poor side of her scream with hells fury – scramble eggs and bake bread. It wasn't much magic, but to watch his eyes fill with glee from the honest work, she could not deny him. He was still a long way from making dinner, though.
As the man set the table, he bit his underlip before drawing a breath. She could tell he had wanted to tell her something earlier on, but waited with it. Bubbles was not Buttercup, so she couldn't demand him to blur it out, and waited instead. As the food was on her plate, and he had taken a bite, the words started flowing.
«I was thinking, more like wondering, but still thinking, that maybe it would be a great idea – depends on who sees it I guess – but I think it would be a great idea, and maybe you don't, but I still have to ask and wonder and you know how,» he cut himself off, stuffed his face with another piece.
«Great cooking, by the way. Love the chicken.»
«What is it?» She hated herself for asking, but didn't want to be rude and not. There was only one thing they disagreed upon, and he asked her, every day, like clockwise, but at different times. Sometimes in the morning when she wasn't expecting it, sometimes while she was still laughing, even in the middle of an emotional scene of a movie. He had even knocked on her door when she had been showering to ask.
«You have to visit Buttercup, Bubbles. It's been nearly a month.»
«No.» If she did, she would trash about, seeing her energy filled sister in such a still state, mimicking death. The doctors would tell her they needed to pull the plug. Hear heart would give in. She could die right there if she as much as stared at her. And it would make her go after Butch. She would kill him for what he had done. Boomer would never forgive her. It will be another skeleton in the closet.
«Maybe you being there, talking to her, might do the trick to wake her up. There have been many cases where people woke up from a coma after someone close to them spoke to them.»
«I can't, Boomer.» His mouth zipped shut, and he downed his glass of water. It didn't take her many glances to see he had something else on his mind. His shoulders were stiff, his eyes fixated on a piece of vegetable. She knew the look.
«What did you do?»
«I kind of already told, maybe, Blossom that you're going to be there.» The infamous puppy look hit her right in the heart. Too bad for him, she was too angry to be affected.
«Blossom is working,» her eyes furrowed deep and she felt the taste of bitter in her mouth. So when Boomer tried, he could get a hold of her, but every single time she picked up the phone to call, she was sent straight to voice mail. Brick was working her too hard. Maybe she could put all three Jojo brothers in the same closet.
«I called in a favour from Brick,» he scratched the back of his neck. He was really sorry, and she knew he was only thinking of her when he had done it. But damn it. She wanted to do things herself, not just rely on him doing everything for her. He had given her a chance to see her red-headed sister again, and she would be mad at herself later for not taking it.
«Fine,» she sighed.
Blossom was so tired. After the green sister had been declared as a coma patient, and it was very little they could do, both the Utonium girls had lost it. It had been childish, she knew that in the aftermath, but she had been so angry. So infuriated with rage and anger, they had thrown themselves over the barely scratched Butch. He had been pretty beat up, she knew, but compared to the green puff, his injuries were nothing.
Brick had dragged her out of there, after a nurse had came running and telling them to calm down or leave. She wasn't anywhere close to leaving, so he had thrown her over the shoulder and taken off. Even in the sky, she had kicked and screamed at him – might have been crying too, but she couldn't exactly remember – and he had threatened to drop her. The warning fell flat to her ears, and she had kept trashing about until he had managed to throw her ass into a bed in a hotel.
After the angry sex – she wasn't proud, and it was by far one of her weakest moments in history – and a long, burning shower, she had managed to calm down enough to not run back there and pummel the boy. He probably wasn't there any more, anyway.
Towel wrapped around her small body, she had sat down to talk to Brick. It had been ugly at first, her accusing him of this and that, he trying to fend her off long enough to explain. Being put in second place wasn't something she could handle, and it had ended up with him blurring the truth out to make her shut up and listen to him. Him had flipped the car, normalizing Butch at the same time. It was why his brother had been so beat up.
It would be dumb to blindly believe him, but the red ruff had more. He could prove Him was up to something, he just didn't know what yet. They had to be sneaky about it, too, so she had to come back to the lab. No resignation papers were signed, and he had admitted her to be the best assistant out of every single one he had fired.
It wasn't how he had said it, but it was what it meant. She almost liked him for it, had be not admitted further to changing her contract, making her move closer to the lab. He would pay for the hotel, and she had to pick up the phone every time he called. Whatever he needed. 24/7 contract.
Did he say this was her room? No, he had not, but it was. What gave him the right to take all these decisions for her? She had been so angry at him, and thrown him out. A couple down the hall had given them the judgemental eye, and she understood why. There she was, a towel only, throwing him out, pants the only things covering. She had taken the T-shirt back, thank you. It was hers after all.
Seeing it had been a very hard and difficult day, she felt no shame crawling up in the dirty shirt and snuggling closer to his smell. The following weeks had been hell. He had called at the most inappropriate times, demanded the most ridicule of her, and worked her ass completely off. She barely had time to take a couple bites off her food, before she was needed back at the lab. The sleep wasn't enough for her, and she was at her breaking point.
The phone was ringing madly. It buzzed with every text, called out for her to answer. She didn't, couldn't handle the red ruff at that point. The redhead was so hungry, sleepy, she couldn't concentrate long enough, and feared the lab would blow up became of her falling over and knocking things in the air.
She could handle it better if she hadn't lied to Bubbles. The girl thought she moved out of her own free will and she hated the fact that she never got to answer her calls, had to vaguely answer the texts, and never see her. She couldn't even get enough space to visit her sister in the hospital. The green girl was probably all alone, and she wanted to be there when she woke up.
Brick was pushy. He wanted to be done yesterday, and they had barely found out anything at all in their time of searching. They knew it had something to do with the professor and the powerpuff girls, but nothing more. Not what he was planning, why he was setting them up against each other, or why he had made Butch normal. Last she heart, he was still vulnerable enough to be killed. Good. She hoped he was mugged in a back street, left bleeding to death.
God, these weren't her thoughts. She was just so tired and done with everything, she couldn't help feeling like this. Taking a deep breath, she rolled around in the bed, hoping the soft material could choke the growling of her stomach. What would she do? She needed to take a shower, eat and sleep. He did pay her, so she had enough to go out to have a proper meal. Maybe she could drop by Bubbles. The thought was enough to wake her and she ran across the floor and to the bathroom. Clicking the lock shut, she turned the shower up, threw her clothes off and stepped inside.
Brick was going to be furious at her, and probably come over, so she needed to hurry. He could wait until tomorrow, and she would take the debt. The narcissistic bastard be damned. She needed a time off. They had been at it for nearly a month, damn it.
When they didn't work, they had sex. It had been in her apartment several times, when he would just drop off in the middle of her free hours of sleep, at work when he suddenly felt like it – to be fair, she was always freezing when he pinned her against something – and she had denied him it the last week. Even if she was cold and her skin trembling, she had refused him in spite. Blame it on the project. Her head was hurting – which was bullshit because intercourse was the best way to pump natural adrenaline around the body and get ride of the ache while enjoying yourself – or she was too hungry. Too tired. Didn't feel like it. Not now. Which explained why he was pushing harder at her.
Bloss, fetch the coffee between fifth and seventeen, which was two shops further away from the closest one. No, he didn't want those today, now head off. Bossy, categorize these by name and habit. Both at the same time? Yeah, that's what he had said. Get this to Fuzzy. He's already analysed that seven times today. Just do it. I'm ordering. Fine. It was ridiculous.
They had been fishing for the last week anyway. Brick had no idea where to take the next project, and she was too out of it to shoot blindly like he was. Besides, it wasn't healthy sticking to each other that much. She was sure she saw him twenty hours each day sometimes. Fucking hell.
The pink eyed girl almost jumped out of her skin when something touched her back and the doors to the shower smacked shut. Whirling around faster than a tornado – at least she tried, but was stopped half way – she crashed against the wall and felt strong hands push her in place. The door had been locked, her mind was panicking. Both her doors had been locked. Who could-? A shiver went down her spine as a chilling laughter filled her ear. A strong body pushed up against her.
In her growth, she had heard it several times. It explained why he didn't need to get past the doors. Him could appear and disappear wherever he wanted, leaving no traces behind. The puff started fighting as best she could, kicking after the invisible and pulling at her hands. At one point, she was so scared, she started screaming and hyperventilating. This was not happening.
«Woah, Bloss, chill. It's just a joke,» Brick released her. Pushing up against the wall, she punched at him. Of course, she had a normal humans strength and he still had his super human ones, so he barely stood there and waited for her to calm down. A cruel thought hit her, and she wanted to kick him in the balls, but that's when the waterworks broke.
Angry, she swatted his incoming hand away, brushed the few tears off and glared. How the fuck did he get in there? Sure, he had his own key to the room, but the bathroom was locked. She was sure of it.
«Turn around,» he twirled with his finger. «I promise I won't mimic Him again,» the male assured her when she gave her most disproving look. She wasn't strong enough to throw him out, and maybe giving him what he wanted would give her peace faster. She did.
«The shower is over forty degrees, and you can't feel it, right?» Was it? Blossom quickly glanced at it. Well, shoot. He was right. She had been so in her own thoughts it had slipped her mind how hot she had put it on.
His huge, rough hands found her shoulders. Applying just enough force, he started massaging her shoulders, neck, back, down to her hips. It was nice, not to mention he was warm. Blossom was well aware she had been shivering for quite some time, but she was just too stubborn to give in to every single one of his demands while she was left with no spark left.
Just ten more minutes, she promised herself, but she quickly lost track of time. The touch of his hands were enough to make her bite her lips, groan with pleasure and lean in closer. She was getting woozy and let his hands wander about. He had been there before, and she didn't see any reason not to let him. She needed it after all, or she would just freeze to death.
When she felt his hands round her hips, grip at her butt and his stiffness sneaking in, she broke away from him and turned. The gesture was obviously frustrating him, because he let his eyes narrow and a displeased drag around his lips became visible.
«I need more hours of sleep.»
«Done,» he crossed his hands over his chest, mimicking her.
«And a real food break. As of now, I've barely eaten anything the passing week. If you can't tell, my ribs are showing and it's not attractive.» His eyes wandered to her stomach – might have been lower too, but she wasn't going to become shy at that point, not when he had agreed to this much already – and she made it a point by gesturing with her hands to the points she knew was visible.
«Done,» he let his hands fall from the grip and grab around her waist, eyes still at her body. It was making her red in the face.
«And -»
«Woman, am I going to have to give you the world or something?» From the way he said it, it didn't sound angry, but more frustrating. Oh. Sexually frustrated. A giggle escaped her lips as she watched him lean in closer, tracing soft kisses on her lips. Sure, he could have her, but she wasn't done.
«Not the whole world, but I want to see Bubbles and Buttercup.»
«No.» His words were flat, and she pushed him away. This wasn't arguable.
«Either I get to see my sisters, or you can go blow yourself up.» The grimace on his face wasn't so adorable now. He was angry. A hand rose and he pointed threatening at her.
«I'm already giving you everything I can afford to, so -» like last time, a phone broke their argument, and he held the finger up before storming out of the small space and for his phone.
«Yeah?» he snappily said. To her, it sounded like his usual self, and she let out a laugh as she imagined a frustrated Brick every time he answered the phone. With a stiff on. Damn. No way was she letting this slide.
«Not now,» he grunted, but the other voice talked really fast and he placed it back to his ear as he glanced at her. Oh, oh. That couldn't be good.
«Yeah, okey.» Again, his look glanced up and down her, and Blossom debated if she was going to get out of the shower, dress up and leave him there. Something was up.
«I'll text you the time,» he finished the conversation and threw the phone away, a very pleased look on his face. With a few steps, he was back in there.
«Good news, love. Your wish is about to come true.» The nickname was something he used every time he was about to win something, and she didn't mind it so much as the first time, but something about it was not right.
«I get to see my sisters?»
«Uh-huh,» he leaned in and trapped her against the wall, one hand circling her stomach while the other founds it's way to her hair. He pulled a little at it, enough to earn a gasp from her. Fingers rounded her skin, passed her sides and grabbed a hold of one of her buttocks.
«When?» She didn't expect him to do it, so it came out as a mixture of a moan and exhale. He gave another squeeze.
«Can't we just do this, and then talk afterwards?» he muttered against her neck, licking her earlobe. She laughed sarcastic.
«You, talk after? Please.» Brick sighed and pulled away, wet hair sticking to his body. It was too long, she thought. He should have cut it and kept it in a low ponytail.
«Seven, does that work?»
«In the morning?»
«No, in the afternoon, you duck.» That one was new. Glancing at his stiffness, she could tell it was getting painful to hold back, but she had to. This was the only thing she would demand of him for some time, and it might be the only chance she had.
«Too late. How about three?» He bit his lip, and Blossom used her girly charm. It would be considering cheating, but everything was fair in war. She crossed her arms under her chest and pushed them up. It worked she concluded as his eyes landed there, and he watched with hunger.
«Alright. Can we do this now, love?» He looked tired. Even if he was superhuman, his own pushing would have to get to him too at one point. Blossom took a step closer and let her hands feel up his chest. Fine, she would have to admit he ruined sex for her forever after this was over. No guy was as well built as the rowdyruffs – they were actually created for them so it made sense – and she had never been able to feel as free with anyone as she was with him.
«Yeah,» she whispered.
«Finally,» Brick threw himself over her, grabbing her tighs and pushing her up against the wall of the shower. She quickly wrapped herself around his hips, feeling himself adjust. One thrust against her, and she was already feeling herself ready. So much for that foreplay. A finger found its way to the opening, and her head was spinning at the sensation. A week without him? What the fuck had she been thinking? His laughter sent tingles down her spine.
«Naughty, bad puff,» his hot breath tickled her cheek.
«Dirty, sexy ruff,» she answered him and let her nails dug into the skin on his back. Pressing the tip against the opening, he grabs a hold of her hips, and dives in. She could feel herself expand around him. God, it was making her so hot she moaned loudly.
In their weeks of sex, they had explored how to make the other go crazy. Brick was very found of sounds. He loved her showing how she felt and use her voice, talk dirty to him. She wasn't very used to it, but the moaning was something she had always held back, and it felt great letting it out.
Lifting her up, she felt him slide in and out, faster and harder. Sliding her eyes open, she stared at his crimson eyes, watched his muscles tighten up, felt his rough hands grab hard on her skin. God, he was making it feel so good.
She grabbed at his hair, digging her nails into his scalp, leaning in closer, letting her chest brush against his. To them, this was also a competition. They had to be best, and as their eyes were locked, she held on to his shoulder and helped push up and down.
The length was almost tearing her apart, but it was making her feel so good at the same time. It hit up against her, pushed at her most sensitive spot, and she cried out as a wave of pleasure rode her whole body.
He leaned in closer, and their foreheads connected. In her haze, heat and muscle ache, she saw him close his eyes and pound her one last, hard time. It sent her over the edge, making her throw her head back and scream his name. She didn't intend to, it just happened.
His thumbs rubbed at her hips, his mouth planted soft kisses on her neck and collarbone. Gently, he pulled out and held her close to his chest. Her feet were shaking horribly, and she had problems standing, but he supported her. Even if her hands were numb, they clung to his neck.
When she was able to stand on her own, she felt him release her. Blossom was so sure he was going to leave at that point, but he didn't. Instead, he washed her hair. His hands felt like magic as they rubbed her scalp and washed it out. They didn't say anything. Blossom realized what she had said in the end, and she was too embarrassed to meet his gaze. He would surely make fun, even if he had liked it.
Brick left the shower first, roamed a round to find a towel, wrapped himself up before he twirled one around her. Swooping her up in his arms, he carried her over to the bed and laid down, opening his phone.
«Brick,» it was the first thing any of them had said, and he silenced her quickly with a finger. Honestly, she didn't know what was going on with him. He could be so sweet at one point, and then turn around as if nothing had ever happened. Sweet and sweet. This was probably as sweet as he got. The usual Brick would throw her on the bed and leave while laughing.
«Yeah, it's me.» The boy sure said that a lot, but she expected as much. He was famous, even if she didn't want him to be. He then turned toward her, those crimson eyes making her blush. Gee, she acted like a fourteen year old.
«What do you want to eat?» he asked, leaning on his arm, staring down at her. Oh, how she was tempted to say you. Brick was right about one thing. She was a naughty, bad Puff.
Butch had been staring at the ceiling for quite some time. The drugs in his system was about to wear off, but he couldn't find the will to get up and shoot himself another round of fun. Don't get him wrong. After Him had fucked him over and taken away his immortality and invariability, the drugs had five times the normal effect, and he didn't have to snort everything any more. He could just pop a needle in the arm and incoming fun time.
The problem was that he had been high constantly for a month now, and even though it was mind blowing how many things he had tried and how much fun he had, the only thing left were nightmares. Whenever he would take something that made him hallucinate, he would see her charming smile before it melted off and splatted on the floor in a pool of blood.
All the girls' voices sounded the same, and they kept calling out for him. It happened more and more, and it just became worse. Whatever he took, whomever he spent time with, he went back to the moment Buttercup had been awake and kind to him. Sure, she had called him a pain in the ass and all that, but she had called him an ok guy. His counterpart approved of him.
And then she had ended up in that coma. Taken the poor man's way out. Fuck. How was he suppose to make her hate him again if she refused to wake up? The doctors said she could wake up at any moment, but it could also last for the rest of her life. It was up to her. There was really nothing he could do but wait for her. Fuck!
When she did wake up, he was going to shout her ears full. Leaving him like that, almost worrying about her, daring to take this long to wake up. Acting like a normal girl, trying to be nice to him. Shit, he hated it. Then they were going to take Him down.
«Boss,» Ace called from the other side of the room. He had a hand over the phone, a nervous drag around his mouth, a palm resting on the door in case he needed to get out of there before something hit his head. The green ruff had been quite the irritated, menstruating bitch, and anyone who popped up at the wrong moment would feel his wrath.
«What?» he called out. It was louder than he had expected and high pitched. When was the last time he had talked? He couldn't remember, but the sound had him cringe.
«I wasn't sure how to tell you, but seeing it's happened I don't think I can keep it to myself any more-»
«Hurry the fuck up. Your voice is enough to make me vomit.»
«Right.» He tilts his glasses to stare him straight in the eyes. «I put a post at the hospital, and it was Arturos turn. He just called in.»
«What post?» the green ruff grunts as he hauls himself up on his elbows and flip around, the world spinning awfully much for half a twirl. Fuck this. He was going to be sick.
«I thought it would be best to have him at a stake out to make sure everything was fine, in case Him popped up or the vitals dropped and we needed to be there, or if she woke-» Butch vomited on the floor, effectively making the pale man shut up and wrench his nose in disgust.
«Clean that up,» he ordered as he rolled out of bed and fell on the floor with a painful grunt. The brunette needed to get to the bathroom before the rest of the surprise exploded all over the room. Staggering he tried his best to rise from his doggy position – failing miserably – and landed on his right side, mouth open and drool moistening the floor. It was cold. Where was his carpet? He needed it. The soft one with tangling threads that tickled his balls. The ruff loved that feeling.
«Butch, Buttercup woke up.»
«I heard ya the first time,» he grunted from the floor. Suddenly, the need to get up and see her wasn't there. The butterflies in his stomach were too much for him to handle, and maybe some of that extra MDMA had kicked in. Did he want that? Sure, why not. It would make him more pleasant to be around when he got his ass off the floor and gave her a vicit. If he gave her one. Butch didn't give bitches anything. They gave him shit, but bro. It would be nice to see her again. Maybe even hug her. She would kill him.
Like the fool he was, Butch started giggling on the floor from the mental picture it was giving him. She would be so mad she would jump out of her skin and strangle him with it. Not only would it be priceless to see, but totally worth it.
«Uh, boss?»
«To the Batuch mobile,» he giggled with a hand risen over his head. A majestic pun made out of his new, beautiful car and its similarities with the bat mobile. It was perfection at worst. «But first, you need to help me up. Not only did the bitches give in on me, but my legs seem to be malfunctioning as well.»
«Of course,» he rushed over and supported his weight with a hand under his shoulder and the other had a tight grip of his forehead. The man counted to three, and pulled him up. His muscles rushed to life, making the big man almost have a very unpleasant meeting with the floor.
«I would've killed you had you dropped me,» Butch said while smiling wide.
«I'm well aware,» Ace was clearly sweating, throat swallowing, the dryness of his tongue tries to wetten the nervous lips. It was enough to make the ruff give him a good pat on the back. In the old days, it would have broken a couple of the vertebrae, but he wasn't quite so strong any more, and the only reaction it provoked was an omf.
«You're a good man, Ace,» Butch surprised himself and the older one by saying. It wasn't intended, he didn't mean to, something else was about to come out, but that's what he ended up with. Drugs talking. Drugs walking. He was a mess.
«Uh, thanks?» A brow reached his eye while the other the hair lining. Even if he was wearing sunglasses, the question mark was quite clear.
«It's the MDMA talking,» Butch explained, barely sober enough to catch on to it.
«Ah,» Ace pouted and gave him a toothy grin. «Cmere, boss,» he pulled him along, and the man let him. On their way to the showers, the man explained they couldn't share, that would be weird, while Butch told of his victories and how the green gang leader was the first to make him smile in weeks. At least, that's what he thought. Time wasn't quite relevant, and he didn't even know what day it was. A Friday? Oi, party time! Wait, Buttercup. He needed to see her, to clear things up. Of course the man knew, that's why he had been so nice to put up a watcher.
As he was washing himself, the mouth wouldn't stop talking. He either laughed, worded or made unnecessary sounds to fill the void. Energy wasn't flooding over and taking a restless hold of him, but he was rather open and calm about it. Yes, yes. It was the drugs talking, but eh. Butch could be like this when he wanted to.
In the car – Ace had voluntaries to take him after Butch had ordered him to – the grown man of twenty two was singing from the top of his lounges to all the songs on the radio, winking at bypassing girls; he didn't think they couldn't see him behind the black windows; and managed to remain calm at the same time. The witnessing eye would be quite impressed with the odd mix.
Some of the drug must have wore off by the time they hit the entrance of the hospital, because the man wasn't so sure of himself any more as he watched Ace greet Arturo, the youngster running up to them with waving hands. By the time they were deep in talk, Butch felt his phalanges ache and the skin around them sweat. It wasn't just his fingers, but toes too. Rubbing them off on his shirt – instantly regretting making it smell horrible man body fluid – he moved around and waited for Ace to show the way. How odd wasn't that? The boss was waiting for his second in command take the shots.
«The rest of the girls are here, same as the Jojo brothers. I don't think they knew she was going to wake, because they came half an hour before she became concious, as far as I heard,» the raven haired boy reported to his commanders. His brother's were here? What was that all about?
«Boss,» Ace called him back to earth, the man giving him a concerned look. To most eyes, it didn't seem like anything had changed in the face of the mature man, but the Jojo knew him better than that. They had grown up together, pulling each other in to trouble and out of trouble at the most ridiculous times, and he knew him better than he knew himself at times. The pale man also knew the brunette couldn't stand sympathy. Flipping his nose with his thumb, he plastered a smirk on his lips and nodded for them to push forward.
«To arms, my minions,» he called, pointing at the hospital as if it was the endgame boss and they were close to victory. Lil' Arturo gave Ace a look of puzzlement, but he just waved him off. It could wait.
«To arms we go,» Ace saluted him, and Butch lead the way. The chin was risen high, his arms swaying, fists clenched, confident smile and a positive attitude. As the man lead them the way, barely daring to look at him – he was known and thus never denied in fear of a loss of work – the good feeling became less and less appealing, before he stopped at the end of her door with a cold stomach. It didn't feel good any more.
The room around him was white, as if sticking around wasn't enough to drive anyone crazy, and the doors were the same, the same distance between them, the same worn colour and clean like a morgue. He had wanted to see her for the last passing month – even came her in the middle of the night to sneak a peak at her sleeping, peaceful form. It was nice when she didn't yell at him – hell, she was both pretty and sexy as fuck, but he wasn't going to say that to her, no – and he had imagined the moment of seeing her green eyes so full of life again.
He had imagined her screaming and jumping him, demanding his death for what he had done, and he would laugh it off as if it was the worlds most normal thing. In his most delusional dreams, Butch had seen her smile at him and wave a hand, glad she wasn't dead and ready to start over with him. After all, she did call him an okey guy and said he cleaned up well. That had to count for something, right?
«Boss,» Arturo started, but the other cut him off.
«Quiet, let him be. We'll be over here and wait for your return, mate. Call if you need anything. We can even run to the store and get you guys something if you want. Heard the hospital food isn't that great.»
«No. We're... We're fine,» he grunted, eyes fixated at the door. Could he? Fuck him. He was being a pussy over nothing. This was Buttercup, Butter-fucking-cup Utionum. Hell, they had been somewhat friends at one point and he tried to kill her all the time. No need to be so nervous. Shh, he wasn't nervous. Fuck. Take the damn handle and push. No, down with it first then push, or he would just crash into the door. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?
His hand finally found it's way to the cold – oddly how it could be so cold yet the air be a degree of molten – metal of the handle, and he swallowed. This was not happening. His brain was fried due to the drugs. It was the only logical reason. Fuck.
The door swung open, and he found himself grimace with dismay. Shit, he wasn't ready! Why did his body just react out of it's way like that and – wait. He hadn't been the one to move the door. On the other end were two blue eyes staring at him. They were as bright as a summers sky, blond hair cascading and framing the lovely face. Her smile quickly turned sour and demonic, before she threw herself over him. Luckily, the blond ruff wasn't far behind and quickly saved his sorry ass from a good beating.
«This is all your fault! I should have killed you when I had the chance,» she roared at him, trying to push a laughing Boomer away. Butch found himself annoyed at his younger brother for making fun of him. The first thing he was going to do when he got his powers back was give him a lesson in why older siblings were feared.
«Calm down, Bubbles. It's not his fault it's like this, besides, it's not that bad. The doctors said-»
«I heard what they said. I'm mad, not deaf,» she barked at him, taking the quickest one eighty he had seen in his life, and the blond released her to rise his hands up to his hands in defeat. Boomer had never been one to indulge in fights like him and Brick, and merely did it out of necessity.
«Hey, I'm not the enemy.» About to say something else, she drew a breath, held it, and stormed off, after sending him a look of promise. Death and misery. Great. His brother merely nodded at him before rushing after his counterpart.
The door was wide agape, and two pair of dark eyes stared at him. Brick wasn't amused; he looked pissed in fact, and Blossom was quick to ignore his presence. Great. Just great. On the bright side, now that the door was open, he didn't have any problems entering the illuminated room. The lamp was sitting on the night stand, and he couldn't see any difference between this and the first room she had been embedded in. All the rooms were the same. Might as well call up the psychiatry and enrol there instead. Holy F.
«Butch,» Brick greeted.
«Brick. Pinky.» He tried to nod at her, but she didn't say anything, just stared at the person in bed. He delayed looking the way as best he could, but when his feet came to a halt in front of her bed, he couldn't help it any more and glanced up at her.
Out of every scenario his fucked up brain had ran by him, this was not one of them. She was sitting there, as if nothing had happened, eyes bright and staring at him. Her brows were puzzled and her head a little twisted to the side, as if she tried to filtrate a thought out of her head to catch it.
«This is all your fault,» Blossom said, finally acknowledging him. How was her being awake his fault? He would gladly take the honour for her being up and running, but why was everyone making it sound like such a bad thing?
«That she's awake?» he defended himself. The redhead snorted instead of answering, turning her attention to her sister. The brunette glanced between them, wetting her lips with her tongue, parted her lips to say something, but stopped herself instead.
«You have no idea, do you?» she finally finished, glaring at him. It was such a fuelled action, he almost took a step back. But just almost. Nothing said hells fury like a pissed off redhead.
«Uhm,» she finally said, hesitant. Since when was Buttercup holding back? «I'm so sorry,» she what? He didn't believe his ears at first. Had he not seen it, he wouldn't have believed it. Even when they had been younger and she had done whatever she liked to anyone, she never apologized. «But who are you?»
The silence was followed by him bursting out laughing. That was by far one of the best jokes she had ever taken. Fucking with his head, Buttercup style. He liked it.
«Good one, Butters. Almost had me there.»
«Butch,» Brick drew his attention. «She's not joking. The puff doesn't remember squat. Not bossy, not blonde, our idiot brother or me.»
«What?» The smile melted off his face as he glanced back at the girl in bed. She was blushing, staring at the blanket wrapped around herself, looking guilty.
«I'm so sorry,» she muttered.
«WHAT?»
And there it is, the long awaited update! Thank you for the read and leave me a comment on your thoughts. Oh, yeah. If anyone has an English spelling program for OpenOffice, please PM me or leave a comment about it. I got a new computer and Office only had my native language. I'm currently using New Zealand English^^''
Gigiright: Thank you for the review! So glad to hear the chapter fell to your taste and it keeps being interesting.
Ash141: I do love questions. Feels like I did something right. Seeing they aren't made with the DNA of the brothers, I personally wouldn't deem them as related, but I suppose they could be seen as that in one way? Thank you for the review and question!
Demonic dragon blade: Shit sure is hitting the fan! Here is another enjoyable – hopefully – chapter!
BlossomxBrick11: Here's a little bit of lemon! It's my fist time writing one, so pinpoint whichever part was bad and good, so I can improve them to further scenarios. Glad it's to your liking!
AWESOMEROCKSTAR101: Thank you for the compliment! Things seem to complicate quite some, and who knows? With this outcome, I'm sure some green action is just around the corner.
Blossom782: Woah, so nice of you to say, and I'll keep coming back to this story, even if it takes me some time to do so. I know where I want it to go and what the endgame is!
Guest: Wonderful to hear! Hope you return for more fun and drama! Thank you for the review!
Thanks to The Darkneon Flash, Hinata28h and Flutejrp for following this story, and another huge thanks to Goddess Cure Mystic, Flutejrp and Ronniefanficfan 18 for adding this to your favourites!
And you silent readers out there! You're all awesome! Remember to leave a comment and I'll see you next time.