A/N
Y'all sorry I suck and never add to anything. Read, review and enjoy!
Blossom~
I set my empty tea cup down with shaking hands. I pace behind the coffee table and examine the evidence of the case. I keep trying to convince myself that this isn't Buttercup, that my keen eyes should know her jaw line and facial structure a mile away. But her appearance has changed so much….
And pushing her to the back of my mind for a year and half didn't help either.
I stare down at the photo, I'm expecting results from the blood work in a few hours, and then I will know. If there are no traces of Chemical X in her bone marrow than I know that this raven haired copy is nothing but that
A copy.
Plenty of women changed their appearances and even would go as far as plastic surgery to imitate my sisters and myself. I have seen more Bubbles in recent years than I ever had. Especially among older women.
I searched all over the Buttercup look alike for identifying marks such as her tattoos and scars but everywhere that one should be was a scabbed over mess of skin.
There were scars I had never seen on Buttercup before that were on the look alike.
Her throat was littered with deep scars, as if she wore a collar. Matching scars glistened on her wrists as if she were cuffed. I bite my lip and stare, her blood did have chemical X in it.
But anyone can inject someone with X
If X is present in her marrow cells during a mitosis stage than….than I'm staring at my sister.
I swallow the rising bile,
Once,
Twice.
I am about to lose what little ginger tea I had in my stomach when I hear a board shifting in my kitchen.
The kind of sound that floor boards make when something or someone walks across them.
I have lived in this townhouse by myself since the boys passing and I do not have an overweight pet that I pity feed.
I stand still for a moment and listen, my ears are straining to hear the silence in the kitchen. I block out the whispers in the house next door and the voices of the people on the street. I hear a glass tink as if being set down. I hover to avoid stress on the floor boards and quickly fly into the kitchen,
No one is there.
Nothing is there.
Just the kettle on the stove. I take a few minutes to catch my breath and check the back door.
Locked, Kitchen window.
Locked, sil covered in dust from my absence.
I return to my work, Sheriff Thompson's laptop untouched. I stole it in hopes that there would be clues or a lead for who this serial killer is. I remember Buttercup getting an email from him, something about a job. She used to do profiling in her time between books.
I notice my tea cup, half filled. Odd I thought I had finished it but maybe I hadn't.
I haven't really been finishing anything food or drink wise since arriving on scene.
I down the tea before cracking into Thompson's computer. It isn't hard and he should really change the password. Anyone who really knows him would be able to crack into his files, 02/21/XX the anniversary date of his late wife and daughter.
I search for half an hour before I find a hidden file. I try the date again but no luck. I think hard and sift through memories of things that Thompson has mentioned in passing.
I breathe out and type in the date of the first serial murder, the older one where they body was a mess.
It works and the screen begins to swim. These aren't tears, I haven't even really begun to look at whatever it is that I've opened. I only get to see a mug shot of a graying Mojo Jojo before I pass out on the couch.
I vaguely recall the smell of clay and a dark figure staring over me before I hear a voice in my ear.
The voice of a ghost.
"What ever happened to our…"
But when I come to in the morning I can't recall the last word.
Buttercup~
Life with Boomer is different from being in Brick's care that's for sure. In the few weeks that I've lived with Boomer I've learned that he has a softer approach to things. He asks that I not be restrained when in his care. Brick argued that I at least need to wear the onyx Antidote X stone while at the dinner table. This is the same level of stone that Butch uses to train with.
The stone is so deafening that I cannot even think of moving a fork anywhere near my mouth, so I chose not to eat. Not to mention the nausea that is now constantly sitting in my stomach.
Again I do not remember the last time I actually ate.
I stare down at the meal, seated between Boomer and Butch. I get the joy of staring down Brick as It looms behind him. Its smile wide as it places its hands heavily on Brick.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" Brick snarls, half lunging across the table but I don't flinch. My eyes lock onto his.
"A pathetic excuse of a super human." I smile.
He sends his favorite blade into my hand, pinning it to the table.
"Hey!" Boomer shouts, but I hold eye contact as Brick twists it before removing it. My wound doesn't even begin to heal because of these onyx chains.
"He's fun, this one." I stare at it another moment, its smile gains sharp teeth. "Maybe I should take on my old form." It says making his way behind Butch, large claws rest on Butch's shoulders and I swear I see it tear into his shirt, his skin. Exposing muscle.
Butch side eyes me but then does as he normally does, ignores me.
When will this hell end?
"Buttercup."
Will I forever be stuck under the thumb of those I have killed?
"Buttercup."
Of vengeful ghosts who want nothing more than to watch me wither just to breathe life into me?
"Buttercup."
I'm not sure how many more times I can break.
"Buttercup, Boomer is speaking to you." Butch's voice brings me back to the present, "He's called your name three times now."
My mouth makes a small o when I look towards Boomer, his eyes soften in understanding.
"Are you okay?" His hand hovers over mine and I nod, moving it away slowly. I don't want to aggravate the stone or my stomach.
I move my hands to my lap and stare at the gaping hole. I pick at the surrounding skin, just to irritate it. Just to feel something other than the weighted void in my chest.
I'm over it,
I'm over all of it
And for a second I wonder if I could take Brick's favorite knife and slice this throat wide open with these stones on.
Of course I would have to get far enough away to not be resurrected
But
It's
A
Good
Thought
I stare at the knife sitting out on the table with my blood dripping from it.
The knife whispers my name while it screams behind Butch.
"Good luck getting it from him." It laughs and my eyes return to the wound in my hand.
It will heal once I'm in the shower,
Ten minutes maybe.
I go back to irritating it.
Pulling severed tendons out of the wound, causing my fingers to twitch in response.
One.
Two.
A strong hand grips my right arm and I don't have to look up to know who it is. It isn't long before his lips are pressed against my ear.
"Enough." He hisses,
Though I thought he would be squirming in his seat with pleasure from my self-mutilation.
Instead his eyes are hard, angry. Giving me a warning.
But what can someone do to someone who wants to die?
Well I guess bringing me back to life is what they have over my head.
So I listen
For now.
I may or may not pick at it later.
Boomer is hesitant as he reaches for the small of my back, I feel his hand hover over the spot, so close it tingles for a second before he finally decides to rest it there. I feel him shudder, the onyx bothering him though not directly touching him. Boomer sighs out, eyes lingering on my wound as we make our way back to his suite. He's more or less guiding me as my eyes begin to slowly close. I haven't really slept since I got here.
Can you blame me?
My eyes drift shut and I count our footsteps
Step-step
Step-step
Step-step Step-step
But then another set is added. My eyes snap open.
I turn standing in a defensive pose waiting for whoever will round the corner. Boomer stands behind me and turns slowly, surprised by my quick movements.
It's Butch who rounds the corner, Boomer presses his hand to my back and I debate if I should relax. He sees I'm still rigid and moves me behind him.
A nice gesture.
Though useless against Butch.
But still a gesture.
I stare at him through half lidded eyes digging my fingers into my wound to keep me alert. I used a lot of energy just to get into a good stance. His eyes are glued on me, nostrils flared before he takes a calming breath.
"You need to close that wound or it will never heal." Butch growls, pointing my way. Boomer's eyes follow and he gently takes my now bloody fingers out. Sweat forms on his brow as he holds my hand gently. It's clear the manacles are already taking their toll; he squeezes his eyes shut in concentration as he tries to heal me. Nothing happens except for a lone blue bolt that jolts out between our skin and then nothing. He swallows.
As if literally swallowing his pride before turning to his brother, the front of his collar damp.
Blue eyes shining defeat.
"I can't, I can't heal her."
"I told you that you need to build up your tolerance." Butch sighs, pushing him aside. Butch assesses me, eye lingering everywhere by my face.
Avoiding me as he's been doing.
It stands behind him, towering a full head taller. Smiling its too wide sharp toothed smile.
I feel as if Butch is mocking me.
Relishing my pain,
Savoring how I have done the job for him.
Torturing myself until I am no longer whole.
Until I am broken
Damaged
Goods.
My fingers fly to the wound quickly, to reduce the sound in my head, pain sings but it does not drown it out.
"He can't even stand to look you in the face, damaged goods."
I twist harder before a gruff hand grips my wrist hard enough that the onyx manacle shatters, dusting the floor by our feet. I look up to be greeted by angry deep green eyes.
"Enough." He hisses, his rough hands gently cradling mine before glowing a soft green.
I notice the onyx ring on his middle finger, so black it seems to swallow all of the surrounding light. I look to the cuff on my right wrist and see that it is only charcoal grey in comparison. I swallow, even as his ring nears my skin I feel it sapping more energy off of me than I can manage. My knees sway and he catches me with his right hand.
"Sorry." He murmurs, his breath tickling my ear and despite my mind screaming not to, I lean into him. He supports me a moment longer than he needs to before righting me and placing me in Boomer's arms. He gives Boomer a stern look before purposely grabbing him with his left hand. His skin sizzles under the touch of the ring even through the material of his shirt. His face turns from pale to green in seconds.
Butch whispers something low enough that I can't catch it but I can tell by not only the tone but by Boomer's worsening face that whatever it is it's a threat.
One he plans to keep good on.
He releases him and rounds the corner before Boomer lets out a low hiss.
When we return to the room he removes his long sleeve shirt to reveal a nasty festering welt that is slowly healing. I look to my left wrist eyeing the small faint scars left by the charcoal grey chains. My right wrist and throat must have matching ones. I swallow, pulling at the one around my throat. I am suddenly hyper away of it; it ghosts the feeling of a sweater that feels too tight.
Choking you but not.
Boomer takes notice and closes the distance between us.
"Here let me help." He soothes. I don't flinch as his cool hands circle to the back of my neck. He takes the key from his wrist and pops the collar right off.
The rules are as follows according to Brick;
The wrist, ankle and neck collar should never be removed.
Ever.
Let him know if I am building up tolerance too quickly
And lastly
Kill her should she make an escape or strike.
Boomer oddly enough does not listen to these rules. He treats me as an old friend, so I don't try to escape or strike. My eyes linger on the scars that litter his throat and I swallow down the shame. He releases my right wrist and bends over to get my ankles.
This is the most free I have felt while here. Boomer says his room should feel like a sanctuary. He leaves me unchained except when we go to bed. He lets me stand in the shower for as long as I like, even if it meant the hot water going out.
Which hasn't happened yet and the longest shower I've taken was an hour and a half.
He announced to me that he would be peaking behind the curtain. I had my back to him peered over my shoulder as he pulled back the curtain to a pose no man could refuse but he looked me straight in the eye and blushed.
Fucking blushed.
As if I wouldn't be showering naked.
He apologized and I wonder how he and my sister ever had sex.
I know they did.
I was unfortunate enough to hear it from time to time.
I stretch before crashing onto Boomer's bed. Boomer makes his way to the bathroom to start a hot shower for me. He even puts a fancy shower tablet in near the drain for me.
He thinks he's doing it to be nice I think he's doing it to make me smell like Bubbles.
But can I blame him? I'm the closest thing he can get to Bubbles now.
I relish the hot water as it washes over me. I stand under the steamy stream for over a half an hour, just long enough that the nausea finally subsides. It stands quietly behind me, murmuring over fading scars and the changes my body has made.
I feel like a walking skeleton,
I'm okay with that though.
I'm closer to Death this way.
Boomer begs me to eat but the nausea and It keep my appetite away.
I turn off the water and open the curtain quickly. Boomer sits on the sink vanity with a towel held towards me. His deep blue eyes locked to mine.
Always modest.
Though I catch them lingering on my exposed ribs every now and again.
He's usually good about keeping his expression neutral.
But today his lips frown.
Hard.
"Even the dumbest of the dumb can see how disgusting you are."
I wrap the towel around me, trying hard not to feel self-conscious. Boomer lays out my clean outfit and turns his back to me.
I briefly think about how hard or easy it would be to snap his neck.
But I can't bring myself to make the same mistake twice.
Instead I lift the soft black t-shirt over my head, my short raven hair leaving droplets behind. I shimmy on the black leggings and clear my throat.
Boomer opens the door and gestures for me to go first.
Almost as if he sensed my ill will towards him.
My stomach growls loudly and I frown hard, just wanting to sink into the sheets and re-read the only book Boomer has for the hundredth time.
"Maybe we should get you something to eat?" Boomer says softly, eyes glancing at the clock.
I go to answer but my stomach beats me to it by growling louder than before.
"We can keep the chains off. I trust you." Boomer's eyes have this way of sparkling, even in the dark.
He is pure like his counterpart.
Much more pure than me.
"You really shouldn't." I give him a hard look and he rolls his eyes.
"Always dramatic." He sighs, "I'll keep them in my pocket for now, in case Brick shows up. I know they make drain you of your appetite and super human or not you need to eat."
He gently grabs my wrist guiding me back down the long hall.
When we reach the kitchen I realize how famished I really am. Boomer makes me a peanut butter sandwich, he holds the first one out to me.
"Creamy peanut butter like you like. I think only Bubbles and I like crunchy." I take the sandwich and murmur a thank you. I hoist myself on the counter and wait as patiently as I can for the next one. As I eat Boomer's eyes linger to the only window I've seen since I been here. It's raining, naturally with my luck.
"Let's watch a movie." He says gently pulling me off the counter to my feet.
"What no." I say, that was something he and Bubbles did.
They'd force all six of us to "enjoy" a movie on rainy days once things settled down between all of us.
"Please?" I swear I almost hear his voice break. I find his eyes and they shine a little more than normal.
Near the corners.
I sigh, frustrated.
"Fine."
He drags me to the couch and pulls a blanket over both of us. I give him a side glance as he places his arm over the back of the couch behind me. After half an hour the darkness of the room begins to relax me and I start to doze.
Boomer's arm leaves the back of the couch and finds my shoulders, gently pulling me to his chest.
I go to shove him away harshly but the look in his eyes stop me. Those blue eyes are seeing me as someone else.
As someone he should be doing this with.
But now he can't
Because a ghost can never hold their lover again no matter how alive they feel.
It's my fault.
I made him the ghost.
"Sorry." He clears his throat, "Thought it would help. You haven't slept in weeks, or none that I've seen."
I stare him down hard, my resolve draining from me as exhaustion pulls harder at my consciousness.
"Can we just pretend….for one moment that we…." His eyes linger before he closes them.
It's quiet except for the actor's voices gently surrounding us,
Blanketing us in intimacy.
He collects his thoughts for a moment longer. He keeps his eyes closed as he speaks.
"Can we just pretend that you're her and I'm him? Nothing more than this moment here, help me forget that I have to watch from afar. That my life is hell."
"Okay." He goes to open his eyes, shocked that I would actual agree, "No keep them closed, and just listen to me for now."
He obeys.
I could take this opportunity to escape,
To repeat history and end his life.
I'm strong enough to do it, I haven't had the chains on for a few hours and my body feels light as a feather.
I would be faster than him
Stronger than him
And yet I don't. I get off the couch and he goes to open his eyes. I place my hand over his eyes, his soft lashes tickle my palm.
"Trust me." I say and he nods. I remove my hand and he waits patiently.
"Rest your back against the arm of the couch and leave your legs open a little." I say breathy, and I watch his Adam's apple bob.
I wonder for a moment where his mind is and laugh to myself.
Has Bubbles dominated him in the past?
I laugh again because I can picture it.
I crawl in between his legs and lie on my side. I snuggle into his chest as I pull the blanket up to my shoulders. Boomer finally relaxes and places his arm on my shoulder.
Hand playing with my hair for a moment.
"Now you can watch the rest of the movie and I'll trust you enough to fall asleep."
And he does. Hand absently petting me while my eyes grow heavy.
Boomer isn't that different from Butch. His arms are toned, just not as muscular, same with his chest. His stomach a bit cushier, maybe even more comfortable.
His smell it was really sets him apart. Like open air, a grassy meadow. I can almost smell Bubbles through him. Flowers, fresh air, sunshine.
Their scents always complimented each other.
It's not long before I fall into what feels like a deep sleep.
"Shhhhhh" I hear Boomer shush and my eyes flutter. A dark figure stands in the living room.
"This is the first time she's slept." I hear him whisper but only through his chest, "I'm doing as you asked."
I groan, irritated that he's talking and I feel him go rigid for a second as I snuggle deeper into the blankets.
Little did I know that this nap would fuck me over later.
I lie awake as Boomer snores beside me.
The clock on his nightstand burns red 12:00am and I watch it change to 1:50am in a blink of an eye. I keep my eyes closed and finally fall asleep.
Boomer was always the easiest to beat, though I feel as if he just gave up, his eyes lingering on Bubbles. He died as if it was his duty.
My arms are stained with blood up to my elbows. Brick is next as Butch stares in horror. Butch goes to attack but Him paralyzes him.
"Let's see how this plays out hmmmm"
I crack my neck and go after Brick hard. I don't give myself time to mourn over a friend, to morn for my sister's loss or the next two I'm about to take.
He's frantic, still in shock as he swings and misses finally I pin him to the ground and I want him to go like Boomer, easily.
Quietly.
"BRICK LISTEN. YOU THINK I'M DOING THIS FOR FUN? THIS IS FOR ALL OF HUMANITY, FOR BLOSSOM!" I shout, voice raw from emotion, "For your unborn child that Blossom carries."
Brick's eyes go wide and they find Blossom. She's standing like a statue, eyes glued on us both and for once in her life she doesn't know what to do. What action to take to make this better, to be the Fearless Leader.
But her title fails her as she stands frozen.
I finish Brick off quickly after that and stand over his body huffing. Knowing what's coming for me.
It comes quicker than I expect and Butch is on top of me the second Him gives him his body back. He rears back and slams his fists into my face harder and harder with each swing. Tears hit my face and I hear his breathing hitch. I'm about to lose my momentum.
About to let him punish me for everything that I've done but then I hear Blossom and Bubbles sob and I know what I have to do.
I have to kill the man I love.
I wake breathless and gasping. Boomer lies still, unbothered as I claw at my closing throat. I rise quickly and slip into the curving hallway. I clutch at my throat as I slide down the door and sit on my almost bare ass in the bright corridor. I take a few moments to catch my breath before I hear footsteps coming from down the hall. Boomer's bedroom is the first in the wing while Brick and Butch's rooms lie deeper.
Whichever brother I know that I don't want to meet either. I slip into the bedroom and the door makes the softest of clicks. The footsteps begin to slow and stop in front of the door.
I do the only thing I can think of to make a nosy person move along. I fake moan.
I make it soft as if it is coming from the bed and not right behind the door. The brother standing in the hall moves after a few seconds of moaning and I only stop when I can't hear the footfalls anymore.
I crawl into bed and cry silently, haunted by the fresh memories.
The tang of blood sits in my mouth and the smell lives in my nostrils now.
It looms, switching between the form of itself and Butch.
It leans close, finally choosing Butch's form, icy fingers ghost my cheeks.
"Cry a little harder for me Butterbabe."