Chapter 11

[Happy Little Monster]

Bubbles had risked going downstairs to watch television to alleviate her boredom. Fortunately, not only did Professor not discover her, it gave her opportunity to eat a very late breakfast. Many hours of cartoons later, she helped herself to an early dinner as well before retreating to her room.

Once again, Professor seemed unconcerned about not seeing her at supper time. If he was involved enough with his latest project, he could conceivably go for a week without seeing Bubbles's face and not realize it.

Unfortunately, she didn't have a week; they had to be at the hospital by ten tomorrow morning. The swelling had gone completely down, so Bubbles had given up on ice packs. All that remained was to give her body time to heal the bruising and hope the doctors didn't notice anything. Maybe she'd give make-up a try.

As the sky again turned a ruddy orange color, Bubbles once more found herself in bed clothes and staring at her reflection. Her mind was emptied of all thought as she stared at the dead white orb that had once been a part of her. It seemed still and lifeless, though only because its pure color made its movement almost impossible to discern. If eyes were the window to the soul, then what lay in hiding behind this one?

The sky was dark when she retreated to her bed.

After a dreamless sleep that felt all-too-short, Bubbles was startled to wakefulness by a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called reflexively.

As the door latch clinked, her eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake. She loosed a small gasp and pulled her covers over her head.

"Morning," Professor called pleasantly. Using her powers, Bubbles peered through her bed covers at him. If he'd seen her face before she covered it, there was no sign of any reaction. "It's almost eight. I made breakfast today." Seemingly on cue, the smell of bacon drifted into her room. "You should eat and get cleaned up for your appointment today."

"Thank you, daddy," Bubbles replied. She stretched her arms outward, beyond the bedspread, working out the stiffness before letting them plop down, keeping her head covered. "I'll be down in a minute," she promised.

"Sounds good," Professor replied, retreating and closing the door behind him.

Bubbles yanked her covers down and hopped out of bed to her mirror. She sighed in relief, seeing no visible sign of injury. Gently she pressed on her face, finding it a little sore in some places. Glancing to make sure her curtains were closed, she locked her door and undressed. She was still unable to get a good look at the bruise on her back, but it no longer felt tender, and her stomach bruise had vanished in the night as well.

Pausing to smile at her reflection, she threw on some clothes and put her hair up once again. She practically bounced down the stairs, her trek to the table halting only briefly to kiss Professor on the cheek.

"Good morning," he responded without looking, busy scrambling eggs in a frying pan.

"Morning, dad," Bubbles said in turn. "Did you get to bed early for a change?"

Professor just shrugged.

Bubbles smirked at his back. "You were up all night, weren't you?"

Again he shrugged.

"Dad," Bubbles moaned in a long, drawn out way. "You know that's not good for you. Men of your age shouldn't be staying up all night."

Professor was smiling broadly when he turned his head to face her. "Isn't that—" he hesitated, his smile becoming forced. "Blossom's line?" he finished, turning back to his cooking.

Bubbles stared at the table, smiling distantly until her plate arrived. They ate in silence until Professor collected the empty dishes.

"Anything we should get while we're out?" Professor asked, though he'd just been shopping yesterday. Bubbles wondered if he was looking for excuses to get out of the house. Knowing how wrapped up he'd been with lab work lately, she wasn't sure whether it was for her sake or his.

"Nuh-uh," she replied.

"Okay," he said. "Well, do you want to fly us in or should we take the car?"

"Mmmm," Bubbles pondered. "Car," she said at length.

"Car it is. Want me to get you when it's time?"

"Sure," she said. A thought occurred, and she added, "Unless you want to go now."

"We'll be well over an hour early," he said.

"I can always visit the little kids while we're waiting," Bubbles pointed out. "I think they'd like that."

"Well, you might want to put on your patch first."

"Oh! Right," Bubbles exclaimed, hopping up from the table. "I completely forgot."

"Remember, honey, it's to keep light and dust away as much as to be polite."

"I know, I know," Bubbles called as she jogged upstairs.

"Did you put it on yesterday?" Professor called up to her from the kitchen.

Bubbles sighed in growing, uncharacteristic frustration. The early signs of teenage scorn of parents, perhaps. "No," she admitted as she applied a fresh adhesive patch.

"Do you need me to start reminding you?" he asked.

"No, dad," Bubbles shot back as she thundered back downstairs. "So, ready to go?" she asked, reverting to her usual, bright demeanor.

Professor, in the middle of drying his hands, hesitated before responding. "I think visiting the children's ward is a nice idea and all, but what am I going to do while we're waiting?"

Bubbles shrugged. "If its okay with you I can go now and you can drive up later. That'd give me even more time."

Professor momentarily raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. "That sounds like a good idea. You were cooped up all day yesterday, after all."

Bubbles hugged him, saying, "Thank you, daddy. I promise I won't let them start my appointment until you're there."

"Thank you, Bubbles," he replied, bending his neck to kiss the top of her hair. "I'll see you in a while, then."

Bubbles quickly arrived at the hospital and zipped up the stairs to the fourth floor. She vaguely remembered how Blossom had handled this before. At the time she'd been on a mission to reach out to the community. In typical Blossom fashion, she pushed herself and her sisters from zero to full tilt in no time flat.

Fortunately, while that often left them falling flat on their faces, more good than harm had come from their efforts here. Because of their experiences, Bubbles had the confidence to approach this by herself this time.

"Excuse me, miss?" Bubbles spoke to a nurse behind a counter.

She smiled when she saw who her visitor was. "Bubbles! Hi." Bubbles had no idea who the woman was, since her intensive care and other appointments actually happened outside the children's ward. Still, Bubbles was accustomed to being recognized by strangers. "Stuck at the hospital again today?" the nurse asked.

"Just for a little while," Bubbles said. "My appointment isn't until ten, but I was hoping I could visit with the patients here. Maybe cheer them up a little."

"Oh," the nurse responded, not quite concealing her concern over the idea. "That's awfully sweet of you. But it's such short notice."

"I know. I'm sorry, but I didn't think of it until today. It's okay if you can't, but if you just need time to get everyone together I can wait." The latter had been the outcome when Bubbles and her sisters had barged in last time. That was years ago, and Bubbles couldn't remember how long they were stuck waiting, the three of them questioning Blossom's judgment all the while.

"I can ask the chief," the nurse replied, "but it'll be up to him."

Bubbles nodded and smiled. "That's okay. If you don't mind, you can page me at the one waiting area. Where they watch the kids." Bubbles was referring to a waiting area equipped and staffed to watch young children when unfortunate circumstance (or just poor planning) meant they were otherwise alone while their guardian was being treated or otherwise occupied.

"Oh. Third floor. East wing."

"Thank you," Bubbles offered before walking away, though she didn't need the directions.

Bubbles took in the scene when she arrived. There were about five children kindergarten age or younger, sitting on the mostly red and blue carpet inlaid with its scattered numbers, letters, and pictures. A young boy and girl played at a doll house, another girl was coloring, and two boys were playing with wooden blocks.

Aside from the nearby hospital staff, there was a heavyset middle-aged woman and an elderly man sitting in different parts of the room. They glanced up immediately when Bubbles arrived and smiled in recognition. The old man waved, and Bubbles waved back.

The children, however, were engrossed in their activities. It took nearly a minute before one of the boys with blocks bothered to look at the newcomer. Bubbles felt a pleasant warmth inside at his reaction. First, his eyes bulged. Then, when he was certain of what he'd seen, his mouth dropped open.

"Hey," he half-shouted, half-whispered, as only a child trying to be quiet can. He shook his companion's shoulder. "Hey! It's Bubbles."

Bubbles walked further into the waiting area as the other children took notice. It took some coaxing to draw some of them near, but soon it was a scene she'd grown used to by this point. All the common questions like "What's it like to fly?" as well the quota of unexpected questions. In this case, "Why are there no pictures of your mommy?"

The latter Bubbles answered diplomatically. "Well, I don't have a mommy like most people. If you want, you can ask your mommy to tell you why I don't have one of my own, 'kay?"

They did ask about her eye, but she lied and told them the patch was like a band-aid and she wasn't allowed to take it off until it got better.

When one of the staff came by to say the children's ward was ready for her, Bubbles was surprised at how much time had passed. Still, there was time to visit the ward before her own appointment.

Bubbles managed to extricate herself with only a few moans and groans from the children here, soon returning to the nurse she'd spoken to earlier.

"They're ready for you any time," she said. "There are only a few patients who couldn't make it."

"That's fine. Maybe I can visit them in their rooms?"

"Well... One of them is unconscious, but... I'll check with the chief and let you know about the other."

"Thank you. And can you let me know when it's getting close to ten?"

"Oh, right, your appointment. Sure, dear, I'll keep an eye on the time for you."

The first several minutes were a repeat of her earlier encounter. However, some patients were in elementary school, which meant correspondingly more intelligent questions. One was even old enough to offer the societally expected "Sorry about your sisters," which prompted a few other children to chime in likewise while one or two others just nodded sagely, for a moment transformed into a caricature of adulthood.

Again, time passed too quickly. About half-an-hour before her appointment, the nurse made another appearance to say Bubbles could take a few minutes to visit one of the patients stuck in his room. Bubbles politely dismissed herself with a few farewells and well-wishes.

The curtains were drawn and the lights dimmed. After sliding open the glass doorway, the nurse silently gestured for Bubbles to enter and took her leave, closing the door behind.

Bubbles's eye quickly adjusted to the dreary setting. There was a lady, perhaps the boy's mother, slumped in a nearby chair, fast asleep. The boy himself was not much younger than Bubbles; she guessed ten years old or so. A plastic tube ran into his nostrils. His head was wrapped in gauze, covering even his left eye, forcing him to turn his head in order to look at Bubbles instead of the cartoons playing softly on the television. On the side of the bed furthest from her, his right arm was set in a cast running from wrist to just above his elbow.

"Hi," Bubbles greeted softly.

The boy stared at her blankly for several seconds. "Hey," he responded.

"Is that your mom?" Bubbles asked when the boy said nothing.

"Yeah," the boy replied weakly. "She's having trouble sleeping. The nurse gave her something to help."

Again Bubbles was forced to lead the conversation. "I'm Bubbles, by the way." She stretched out her left hand.

The boy hesitated, then gently grasped her hand. He did not shake it, but he did look into her eye and introduce himself. "Cody."

Bubbles smiled softly and withdrew her hand. "So, ah... What happened? Was it an accident?"

Cody shook his head. "No. My dad... My dad hit me. A lot this time."

"Oh," Bubbles said meekly.

"I'm not mad at you or anything. For not being there," Cody offered. "In case you were wondering or something. Dad says you got no business in people's homes."

She clasped his left hand in both of hers. "That's still awful. Did they arrest him?"

Cody shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Mom says he can't lie his way out of this one."

Bubbles failed to keep her pity out of her expression. "Did this happen a lot?"

"Not this bad before."

Bubbles eye stared into his for several awkward moments. When Cody glanced away, she asked, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I guess," Cody said with another shrug.

"How about your eye?" she asked.

"Got tore up pretty bad. They had to take it out. How 'bout yours?"

"I dunno. I'm having another appointment today to check on it."

"That's good. I hope you can keep it."

Despite fear of what she might see, Bubbles chanced using her penetrating vision. His right forearm had one break, but several of his ribs on that side were broken as well. One floating rib was mostly missing. Perhaps surgically removed, Bubbles considered as she spotted a drainage tube inside the boy's body, near a clearly injured lung.

"Can I see it?" Cody asked.

Bubbles nodded, understanding. She carefully peeled away her eye patch, then rested her elbows on the bed while Cody got a better look.

"Cool," he said eventually, his expression still flat. "Where's the scar?"

Bubbles shut her right eyelid to display it.

"I don't see it."

Bubbles opened her eye and thought back to this morning. She's been so preoccupied with her bruising that she hadn't bothered to check her scarring. It, too, was likely gone by now. Her strange eye was the only visible sign of the damage Mojo had done.

Bubbles shuddered. It was almost frightening the trauma their bodies could handle. Blossom was the only of them one to die without the aid of Antidote X, but perhaps if she'd only made one or two fewer cuts her wounds would have clotted before she bled out.

"I guess it is kind of dark in here," Bubbles deflected.

The glass door slid open. "Bubbles," a nurse called softly. "Your father is waiting for you."

She glanced at the clock. It was only quarter 'til, but Professor always preferred to come early.

Bubbles smiled and replaced her patch. "It was nice meeting you, Cody. Maybe I'll get to see you again soon."

"'Kay," he replied noncommittally, turning his attention back to the cartoons.