Hey again, guys! Happy Wednesday!

To R0C95: I guess you'll find out! ;)

To AoE: Appreciate the compliments on my writing and style. Are you an Edgar Allan Poe or William Faulkner fan? Those two men are my literary heroes.

I do not own the PPG.


I lowered my arm after a good minute. Bubbles was staring back at me blankly, as if I were a stranger. There was not an ounce of benevolence nor malevolence to her; she was merely as she was, as if a perfect cross between the blissfully innocent non-possessed Bubbles and the demonically possessed Bubbles. Absent were any of the features which once defined her innocence; but also absent was the malevolent gleam in her eyes of someone possessed. I wanted to approach her with caution, but the utter neutrality of her person prevented me from being cautious nor audacious. The serenity and placidity of her once-prevalent smile were rather emphatically extinguished, her bright, baby-blue eyes were not soft and comforting but rather cold and dark, and, most strikingly, was the change in skin color. Instead of the healthy whiteness that was the normal color of her skin she was entirely shrouded in gray, as if made of gas. I still am not entirely sure if she is really there beside me or not, or just a hallucination.

"Bubbles…?"

"Yes, I am indeed Bubbles. At least, the small semblance of what remains of her humanity." Her voice echoed flatly in the night.

"And what, exactly, do you mean by 'the humanity that remains of her'?"

"Simple. I am Bubbles' basic survival instinct. I am neither benevolent nor malevolent. I am neither friend nor foe. I dwell deep within Bubbles' subconscious, the only element of Bubbles' mind that Satan has not yet conquered and claimed as his own."

"Bubbles…You're alive?!"

"I suppose one could say that."

"You suppose?"

"Yes. Would you say that you're alive if the only part of you that remains truly you is the deepest and most barbaric depths of your subconscious? I'd wager not."

In all the shock of this encounter it just now dawned on me that Bubbles had not aged a day.

"I'd suppose not, either. Although, Bubbles, I must confess I'm not the person to opine on whether someone is truly living or not. I haven't truly lived in years. Speaking of which…how did you get here?"

"I have astral projected over a great distance. It's taken me thirty years to master the craft, but when you're possessed by a demon, eventually you begin to inherit some of its powers. I suppose in some twisted way this is a perk. It has come at a terrible price, however, for you see, Satan has stolen my innocence, my purity, my happiness. I am literally all that remains, Buttercup. Even if I am to be exorcised of the demons with which I am afflicted, my innocence will never return. It is dead. It is why I appear to you as I do. My eyes, smile, and fair skin were the marks of my innocence and my playfulness. The Devil sapped those qualities entirely from me within a year, therefore I appear to you now a mere shadow-figure of what I am supposed to be!"

"And why have you not aged?"

"When Satan used me to kill Blossom, he cast a spell on me as his servant. He cast a spell of immortality unto me that night, freezing me as a five-year old girl to forever do his bidding. This curse can be undone and I can age again if he is defeated. But more importantly I can simply begin living again as some semblance of what I once was if he is defeated. That is why I have come here, Buttercup. I have tried for years now to send you a message, but you have never received it. Do you recall the dream about the bloody rain you always have?"

I literally could feel my heart pumping as she spoke. "Yes…"

"That was me from the start. I was trying, desperately, to convey a message to you that while I may be demonically possessed, a small portion of me remains alive, albeit dormant, and that I need your help. Sadly, however, you never interpreted this dream that way. See, because while Bubbles has remained five years old in every other capacity, I, her subconscious, have never been conquered by Satan. I have mentally aged at a normal pace. It's taken every ounce of energy and willpower I have to astral project myself over this distance to see you tonight, Buttercup. I came because the dream has done me no good. I came because I am running out of time. I need your help, Buttercup. I need your help to defeat Satan and start living again. Please, Buttercup, help me."

"I can't, Bubbles. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you're better off getting yourself out of this one. Every time I've ever truly tried to help those I love it's ended in their death. I tried to help Blossom fight you, and she died. I tried to save The Professor's life, and I did such a shit job of it that he killed himself anyway!"

"Is that why you have pathetically sat here and watched your life erode away? Because you blame yourself for the deaths in your life?"

"As a matter of fact, it is. Blossom died, and I failed her. I failed her again when I couldn't catch you that night! I failed our father figure because I didn't do a good enough job listening to his needs! I should've forced him into rehab! Then I finally found some comfort and solace in softball, and my irrational rage ruined that for me, too! What's the point of continuing to try and make some semblance of a woman out of myself anymore? There is no point. I can't change the past, and I am perfectly happy how I am now!"

"Are you, now? Enough of the games, Buttercup. You and I both know that is the saddest lie you've ever told. You mean to tell me, that when a distress call comes from City Hall, you don't, deep down, pray that Satan and I show up? You're telling me that you don't want redemption? You, who is ever-proud of her physicality and athleticism, don't want to exact revenge unto those who have affected your life as such? Something doesn't add up, dear sister."

"People change, Bubbles… I would not have the courage nor the cunning to face Satan and the demonically-possessed you if they showed their faces. I just wouldn't. Life's time and trials have softened me. Surely you can understand this."

"I can, certainly. But I don't think you are giving yourself enough credit. I think you are lying to yourself. I find it childish and futile."

"Childish and futile?! Bubbles, do you not understand that I am a mere shell of my former self? Do you not understand that absolutely nothing in my life has gone right?! Do you not understand that I am a fuck-up waiting to happen? Do you not understand that I cannot help you? Do you not realize, dear sister, that Blossom and The Professor would still be alive if it weren't for my own miscalculations and missteps?! Do you not realize the guilt that eats at me and erodes all semblances of my confidence, motivation, and, most importantly, sanity every single day because of the failure I have become?"

It was only now that I became aware of the tears falling from my eyes in droves.

"Buttercup…This is where you are wrong. Neither Blossom's death nor Dr. Utonium's death are your fault. You did everything you could to warn Blossom in time, you were simply too late. In the case of our father figure, he was unfortunately made of far less substance than either of us would like to admit. We and Blossom were his life, and he was so caught up in our perfections and infallibility that he forgot that we were emotionally human and that you needed him even if Blossom and I were gone. Furthermore, I know you also blame yourself for your failings in your softball endeavors. Yes, Buttercup, you made a mistake, because you are a human being. Superpowered you may be, but you are human. All humans, including you, make mistakes and are fallible. Your own fallibility and vulnerability do not make you a failure. What does make you a failure, Buttercup, is yourself. You have spent the past twenty years of your life wasting away here in our home, just waiting for your chance to right wrongs. Yet, here I come, your sister, alive, albeit only just, after all these years, pleading for your help, presenting a chance to right all the wrongs done unto you, and yet you refuse to aid me in my time of need. That, not your past, irreversible actions, makes you a failure."

As I opened my mouth to retaliate, I found my vocabulary escaped me. The emphatic anvil that my sister had just dropped onto my head with her words had the desired effect. I opened my mouth, but only tears, suppressed and held inward for over twenty years, rolled down my cheeks.

"Buttercup, it's okay to feel how you do. But you are not a failure. You have survived thirty years of trials and trepidations. That in itself makes you a success. But refusing to face what is ultimately your destiny, which is to face, and very possibly lose to, the Devil is cowardice, and someone no one knows you to be. What would you give to give the Devil his due? Answer honestly!"

"Anything."

"Then please, come with me and we will defeat him together, and then I can be reunited with my body once more, and I can truly be myself again!"

"I can't."

"For God's sake, Buttercup! Has fear truly crippled you this completely? I confess myself rather disappointed. Your cowardice is appalling. There is no shame in being afraid. There is shame in seeing an opportunity to face your past and crumbling like a house of cards! How can you not see this? I need your help, and yet you sit here, unaware that you are failing yourself once more by not at least confronting what has haunted you for three decades! For the love of God, you've been waiting thirty years for this chance! Stop lying to yourself!"

"Bubbles…I can't live with myself if I fail against Him again. I just can't…"

"And you could live with yourself more if you stared blankly into some black abyss and watched the last of me die like you're doing right now?! What would Blossom say if she saw what you've made of yourself?! Wake up, Buttercup! Please, listen to reason! You know yourself better than this! HELP ME!"

Her words continued to pierce into my soul like a dagger. Bubbles was absolutely right. Perhaps I would fight Satan again, Bubbles would die, hell, I may die with her, but I would die at least knowing I attempted to avenge Blossom's death and save humanity, which I was created to do in the first place. I could find peace in that. Her blue eyes stared back at me piercingly, much like I stared down adversaries in my youth.

"I…I'll do it, Bubbles."

"Then follow me to Klansman's Cross. He awaits us there."

"Klansman's Cross?! You mean the cabin deep in the woods where those rebel Confederate soldiers captured runaway slaves during the Civil War and brutally murdered them? He's waiting there?!"

"Yes. He awaits us there because the Cross is a cesspool of human indecency and atrocity. He feeds off the lingering negativity in the air. You must be prepared for anything. He knows your deepest, darkest fears. He will use any trick to immobilize you, but you are strong. Are you ready?"

"Yes. As ready as I'll ever be, anyhow. Lead the way."

"Then we fly. We will stand tall, Buttercup. Follow me!"

Into a night not unlike the one that began the thirty-year downward spiral I've been marred in we flew fearlessly into, setting our sights on Klansman's Cross.


Aaaand here we go! ;)