XIV
Butch didn't know what it was that made him come to the junkyard first. Brick had woken him up this morning and told him it was time to pick up where they had left off the night before. Even Boomer's old shit stain back at Citiesville was better than this dump, but still here he is. "Just pick a part of town then move from there, dude." Brick's voice rung clearly in his ear. He could've literally just gone to an old bank, or the new clock tower (because he knows that his last showdown with Buttercup fifteen years ago completely demolished the thing) and started from there. Was it the trash pits? The reeking stench of piss? Sniffing the air, Butch gagged.
Definitely not that.
He kind of remembered Townsville. 'Course, it's been years since he's been around and Brick isn't one for sightseeing. He kind of remembered the pristine-ass windows, the lively color and bouncy steps of the citizens. He didn't remember the schools, or the neighborhoods, or the buildings that didn't look like a pile of rubble. He stepped in some shit an hour ago and he kind of remembered a little bit of Mojo. He remembered the old cabin in the forest, though it looked like nobody's been there in years. When he went to smell the shotgun lying next to the fireplace and rocking chair, he remembered what it sounded like when it shot off but not who would shoot it.
Most of his memories were jumbled together and the only ones that were ever consistent were the ones about Boomer and Brick. Boomer being too spineless to stand up for himself and Brick being too kiss-assy. When he thought of their old rumbles as kids, Butch felt his mouth turn into a smirk. Those were nothing compared to the ones they had now. Jesus, it's been a while since he had been together with Brick, and even longer with Boomer. In the old softness of his mushy heart, Butch would admit to himself that, yeah, he did miss them. A lot. A hell of a lot. But he'd never tell any of them that. Especially Brick.
He wondered, oftentimes, what life would be like had he been normal like those Bitches. Still knocked some heads, caused some destruction and all, but they always came home to that Professor of theirs. He speculated that the drastic change in his upbringing would have led to a better life. He supposed that being showered with affection on a day to day basis by somebody who didn't have an ulterior motive would have had a larger impact on how he acted. Finally, he figured that if he truly understood that there was a line between good and evil, he would be filled with self-righteousness and justice and all that bullshit.
In his years, Butch knew there wasn't such a thing as being wholly good or wholly evil. Every good deed had some evil, and every evil deed had some good. That was how he perceived a lot of things. After all, the shit that the Old Man makes them do… it's not wholly good for everyone else but, for him and his brothers, it was especially good for them. With a strong twitch in his shoulder that jerked at his neck, Butch recalled the moments that his family went through, the bad ones, the ones that even he didn't know how they made it out of in one piece together, let alone alive.
He remembered a lot of his past that he'd rather forget, that he wished he could forget. He remembered the betrayal, he remembered Leonard, he remembered what Boomer and Brick were lucky enough to forget. Old Man said he needed to be the one to remember the bad, that Butch had a stronger constitution than his brothers. It was the only compliment the Old Man ever gave him, and he held onto it for so long because he knew it was true. Of all the shit he puts his family through, of all the trouble he causes, Butch knew that he wasn't just a fuckup. He was protecting his brothers. And if that meant keeping all of the nightmares to himself while his brothers had a better night sleep, then so be it.
But, even so, he wished he could remember more about this city. Pristine ass windows and all. He kind of wished that this was home. How would that be? Coming home to this city? To these people walking the sidewalks? Would it really have been better?
Another putrid odor forced itself into his nose and he couldn't stop the vomit this time. Bending over, he upchucked what little he ate this morning with a loud groan. Wiping his mouth, grimacing at the aftertaste left behind, he had to remind himself that coming to the junkyard first was his bright idea. Even he is surprised by his own stupidity.
"Well, look who it is."
Butch twitched, the kind that shook his body. Angling his head, he met the slimy eyes of a man he thought would've been forced out of this town first.
Ace.
"It's been a minute since we've seen you around these parts, Butch."
We. Butch almost forgot about the rest of the trash Ace tends to carry with him.
"Passing through." He answered shortly, not too keen on continuing this conversation. He remembered Ace, only because the Gangrene Gang always tended to drift into Rowdyruff territory and shove their noses where they don't belong. He absolutely remembers every single time he's personally threw the entire gang out. Those were good times, he mused with a grin.
"Yeah? Is that right?" Butch's silence was never something that made Ace comfortable. As a temperamental kid with daddy issues out the wazoo, Butch was always remembered as that hotheaded little shit who threw fists at any chance he got. If you so much as looked at him weird, you were getting put to the floor.
Snake could attest to that.
But the past couple of years had done a wonder for the green Ruff, Ace noticed. Gone was that temper and the blistering rage, and in came this well-put-together guy who could actually hold his composure. But Ace knew better. Just because this kid finally learned how to keep his damn mouth shut didn't mean he was a completely new and improved guy.
All six of these laboratory freaks were the same. Time doesn't change a thing.
"Unfortunately for you, kid, you're in Gangrene territory now."
Butch had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes. Seriously? They're going to do this now? In the middle of trash and shit?
"So, you either pay the toll. Or we show you the way out."
"I'm not payin' shit." Butch grunted. If he was being honest, he had zero time to waste on Ace and his stupid gang. For a group who lives in a junkyard, they sure held themselves in such high esteem. Their "heists" were child's play, and even they couldn't pull it off half the time. Butch recalled how they came over to their hideout in Burgsville to strike a deal with the Old Man, something like an alliance, and how he and his brothers thought that was the funniest shit they've ever heard.
Even if that's the case, Butch knew better than to start a fight here. Especially here. So, he was going to keep his head down, move his search on to another part of town, and report back to Brick before he got too hungry.
And that's what he did.
Or tried to do.
His body twitched sporadically for a brief second when Ace put his hand on Butch's shoulder, holding him in place. Butch was faintly relieved that if any of the Gangrene fucks touched him, it was at least Ace who knew the decency of washing his hands. "Now, wait a minute there, kid. You come strolling in our territory without an invite, you don't even call us first, you don't write. You've caused us quite an inconvenience."
"You don't want to do this with me, Copular."
Something in Ace's eyes, the rage fueled from even behind his obnoxious sunglasses, let Butch know that he hit a nerve.
He's not the only one with daddy issues.
"I'm trying to be nice here. But you just like to test me, don't you?" Ace hissed between his teeth, his one fang pinching at his lower lip. Butch didn't comment and only eyed the green-skinned man from the corners of his eyes. "You want my boys to show you what happens to little fucks like you who walk where they're not supposed to?"
Suddenly, figures started emerging from behind the large piles of garbage. This time, Butch didn't even bother trying to fight down the annoyed growl that rumbled out of his chest.
He couldn't walk two feet in shit before he gets himself caught in it.
Shaking off Ace's hand, he cracked his neck twice, "Alright, fuck it. Let's get this over with."
They all jumped at him at once, and Butch finally remembered something.
He's pretty sure there's a little mini-me running around somewhere in this fucking city.
Brick often thought of the many situations he'd find himself in. The most common one was prison, and he's thought of numerous ways to get either himself, his brothers, or the Old Man out of that mess. He's always kind of prided himself in thinking ten steps ahead of today. But he's also prided himself in his humility, that he'll eventually be put in a scenario that never once crossed his mind, and he probably won't know what to do when it came down to it.
He figured that situation would've been something less trivial, something less blood boiling, and something less fucking annoying than standing in the same radius as Blossom fucking Utonium.
God, how much he wanted to strangle the life out of Boomer for doing this to him.
"You've lost some weight, Brick." He broke the murderous glare he had fixated on the Powerpuff leader (even though she was giving him a fierce one in return), and instead focused on the only doting mother figure he ever had. It really was a damn shame, he thought as he looked over her soft features, that she would get caught up in this whole mess with them. Of all the innocents that had to get involved with their line of work, Brick really wished it didn't have to be her.
She was the definition of being in the wrong place at the worst time.
He could easily recall that day like it happened yesterday. He and his brothers had been sent out to retrieve a package by one of the Old Man's other agents. It should've been an easy pickup. Wait a couple hours, hope that Butch doesn't need to wander off to take a piss like he always fucking does, exchange the package for the envelope of cash that Boomer was entrusted to carry, and then head home. Maybe grab a milkshake on the way back, since Brick is such a sucker for those shits. It just so happened that this was one of those scenarios that Brick didn't anticipate and plan ten steps ahead for.
The proxy showed on time as expected, but that proxy brought himself a couple friends.
A couple friends who tend to wear a Red X on their chest.
It was a bloodbath quick.
Boomer had been shot since he had the money, one of the proxy's friends ran off with the envelope. Brick had entrusted Butch to stay behind with their fallen brother while he chased after these fuckers.
He had them all. Took them out one by one, two of three Red X's and the proxy himself. That just left one guy, and he was a heavy breather when he ran so Brick found both him and the envelope easy.
Well, both him, the envelope, and an unexpected hostage.
God dammit, Brick still remembered his face.
He was a kid, a teenager not older than fifteen. He had acne scars on his face, that long flippy hairstyle that Brick hated, and his torn backpack had thrown all his textbooks across the gravel. He had just gotten out of the library after a study session with his teacher and some other kids from his class. This kid was failing English so hard, there was no way he was going to pass the exam next Friday.
Brick remembered his shaky voice cracking as he called out her name, "Ms. K-Keane!"
He heard her gasp from behind him, and he was suddenly aware of the situation and how many people were getting involved with what was supposed to be a simple pickup. He reached for his gun and fucking hesitated a second too long before he shot the last Red X.
A second too late.
He remembered the bullet shooting cleanly through the kid's head just as his own shot through the Red X.
He remembered Edna falling to her knees and breaking down behind him at what she had to see.
As he went to grab the stolen envelope, ensuring that the money was still in tact inside, he heard her say the words that he wished she never said out loud.
"I'm calling the cops. Don't think you're going to get away with this. You're going to rot in prison for the rest of your life."
So, as the Old Man would have wanted him to, Brick knocked her out and brought her back to the hideout. It was a torturous couple of days as their small organization tried to figure out what they would do to her just for being in the wrong place at the worst time. And for opening her mouth. Brick was almost certain that if she hadn't had said anything, she wouldn't have been forced into their line of work like she was. He probably would've had Boomer wipe her memory and had called it a night.
But risking the chance of the police getting involved? That wasn't a risk he wanted to take, no matter how slim.
Because that kid? That kid had a family, no doubt. And that family would've known he was out at the library with his teacher, and then all the questions would go to that said teacher. If enough questions were asked, if enough people pushed for the truth, that memory wipe would have been reversed and she would have remembered everything.
Brick also likes to think that his dashing good looks would have been the end of him, since he wasn't so discreet on hiding his face from her. She would have fingered him easily.
So, the Old Man gave Edna an offer she absolutely couldn't refuse.
Join us, work for us, and we won't have to go looking for another one of your students.
Edna… she's a hard case to crack. But she got the memo.
Brick is in a business that in order for good to come there has to be some sacrifices—some evil.
The Old Man let Edna go to that kid's funeral service later that week in order to keep up appearances, but he wasn't so empathetic when it came to the other three. But Brick knew she visited them often. She praised one for being so good with numbers, the other one was a shoo-in for valedictorian if she kept up her studies, and the last one had a dog named Lucky.
It had been a year since he had been face to face with Edna, Brick realized. He wondered if she still cried at night for those four students that didn't make it.
He was brought back to present day when Edna put her hand on his cheek. "Have you been eating well?"
His response was gruff and short, "Enough." He inched his face away from her touch, not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of his rival.
Edna frowned tersely, "And Butch?"
Brick felt her beady eyes on him, boring holes through his skull, and stiffly nodded. "Not dead yet."
"Shame." Blossom said curtly. Brick met her stare aggressively, narrowing his eyes to slits and clenching his hands into fists.
Edna sensed the tension and shot Blossom a stern look over her shoulder. "Let him know to meet us back at the house. We have a lot to discuss."
"No, we don't." Brick said indignantly, jerking his head towards the Powerpuff's leader. She scowled back at him, body tense for a fight. "She has nothing to do with this."
"She knows everything, Brick." Boomer tried, only to be silenced by a glare from his older brother.
"And she fucking shouldn't know everything. The hell were you thinking, Boomer?"
"I'm thinking you're out of your own league." Blossom answered for the blonde-haired Ruff, her tone calm and deadly as opposed to the snooty, haughty air she used to carry around herself years ago. "All of you."
"What do you know? This has nothing to do with you and your pack of bitches." Blossom bristled at his vulgarity. "We've been out of your way for years and I, for one, would have loved for it to stay that way."
"I'm not going to fight with you. No matter how much I want to."
"Good. Then get the fuck out of here. And keep your sisters out, too."
"Not going to happen. You're planning to put this entire nation in a vulnerable position, where anything can happen to anyone. There's a bigger force out there that we need to—"
"Do you have any fucking idea how annoying you are right now?"
"Brick," Boomer interjected just before the pink-eyed woman can comment, "don't you think we need all the help we can get?"
"You honestly believe she's here to help? You honestly think that when this is all over, if it's all over, that she's not going to cart us off to prison?" Brick shook his head, wishing briefly that Butch was here to knock Boomer's head into the wall. "Why would we ever let our greatest rivals help us?"
"Because I don't know why you're doing what you're doing, or why Ms. Keane is involved with it at all, or why Buttercup seems to believe that Boomer is here for something other than to cause trouble. But what I do know is that there's someone out there, these Red X's, who are planning to start a war. Millions of people are going to get hurt, thousands are going to die." Brick felt his frown cut his face deeper as he reflected on her words. "I was born to protect this world, and everybody in it. I don't know about you and your brothers, but I know that I need to be there. I have a power to help and I'm going to use it whether you like it or not."
The four of them stood in that alleyway in silence, listening to the cars driving past. It was tense, and hatred fueled Brick more as he realized that she was right. This bitch was created just to do what he and his brothers have been trying to do for the past year. She was born with a purpose and, for a second, Brick wondered what that was like.
Ricky was getting kind of annoyed.
Now, he was the jolliest guy around. He liked to think he was pretty laid back and easygoing when it came down to it. Nothing really got to him, not that he can think of, anyway. I mean, sure, he hated it when his sister used to come in his room unannounced and then leave the door open. Or when they spelled his name wrong on his coffee—oooh, that grated on his nerves to no end.
But having Darlene pace back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in his hospital room had lost its appeal fast. He was trying to ignore her by watching the television, but even that became impossible because she kept walking in front of the damn screen.
"Alright, can you not?" Ricky asked suddenly, exasperatingly, as she walked past for the twentieth time. She froze in place, her thumb brought up to her lips as she gnawed on her nail. "You're driving me crazy."
"I'm sorry if I can't fucking calm down, Ricky, but my life is in danger!"
"Look, no one's going to shoot you through the window, Darlin'. We're in a hospital, okay? Your guys are probably regular dudes. They're not going to be flying in here, bullets a'blazing like some western shootout."
Darlene gave him an annoyed glare, rolling her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't care."
He groaned loudly, "Who the hell said I didn't care?"
"You don't even sound a little bit sympathetic!"
"You got yourself caught up in the wrong crowd, baby cakes. The fuck you want me to say? You being here is actually probably gonna put me in danger, too. But I'm not here telling you to get the fuck out. I told you don't get a new roommate."
"You don't understand." She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting down in the chair for the first time since Mitch took off.
"Then help me understand because these past couple of days are a complete mess for me."
It took her a good while to get the courage to speak again, Ricky had almost though she was going to just sit quietly and given him the silent treatment like he was used to. But she ended up surprising him by speaking up in the middle of Jeopardy. "He used to live in Townsville."
"Who did?"
"Boomer."
"When? I don't remember him from when we were in school."
"Because he wasn't here living a normal life. He and his brothers used to terrorize the city."
Ricky looked lost for a second before he blinked wildly. "Huh?"
"They were the Rowdyruff Boys. The ones who only wanted to destroy the Girls."
"Darlin', that was every villain on the block."
"Mojo Jojo created them in prison. They caused a lot of trouble, and broke a lot of buildings. Don't you remember when the old clock tower fell? We were like six years old."
He did remember, actually. It was a huge heartbreak for the city since it was one of the first buildings to have been built when Townsville was just a small little village. He remembered Buttercup apologizing and trying to redeem herself for that mistake for years. Even now, some of the older citizens who loved that clock tower still look at her with such hate for unintentionally ruining a historical building. Ricky knew it still bugged her to this day. She rarely flies near the clock tower anymore.
"If you knew that then why did you let him rent out your apartment?"
"I thought… I thought he had changed. It was years ago, Ricky." She sniffled and that's when Ricky found out she was crying. "He was so different from his brothers. He never asked to be born the way he was, to be forced to do what they tell him to do. He just wanted to live normally."
Ricky pursed his lips in thought, "Sounds like someone I know."
She suddenly became very defensive at his words. "He's nothing like Buttercup, Ricky! Not everything's about her!"
"Hey, whoa, relax." He raised his hands up in surrender, eyes wide in shock at the tone she used with him.
Of their small group, Ricky knew how Darlene felt about Buttercup. There were many days that she wished the superhero and her sisters would just leave the city. But Ricky figured it was the jealousy that was talking. Darlene had a huge thing for Mitch since they were in preschool so she was heartbroken to find out that he and Buttercup had been bumping uglies for a while, and even more devastated when they actually got together. That was when their friendship changed, when Darlene would pick fights with Mitch on a day to day basis just because she was so envious. When they broke up, Ricky thought that was when Darlene would get her act together and stop acting like a bitch to the guy, but it seemed that he wasn't having any of it. She had really burnt down the bridge to their friendship back when they were seniors, and they just haven't been on good terms since. Despite what everyone thought, Mitch wasn't stupid. Not even a little bit. Mitch knew exactly how Darlene felt but considering how nasty he was being treated when all he wanted to be was her friend, he just felt that being cordial to her just wasn't worth it.
Of course, that's not something that Ricky is going to tell her. Their relationship, or lack thereof, wasn't any of his business. But, he'll admit, he could stand to get away with the negativity that seemed to ooze off of her. He's just a party kind of guy, he wanted to make friends with everyone around him and just have a good time. For a while, he thought she wanted that too. But she was so against Buttercup and disliked her for the simple fact that she was kind of a hit with the guys and she had a lot of fame from being a superhero.
"He wanted to be normal, and I could've given it to him."
"Darlin', he's messed up. He's involved with some guys that can and will hurt you to get to him. What are you doing wanting to get wrapped up in that?"
"I can help him."
"No you can't, baby. Let him help himself. Don't risk your life for this guy."
"I love him!"
Ricky frowned as he heard that again. She didn't love this guy, she barely knew him.
Suddenly she dug into her purse and pulled out a sleek blue card. "This is his. I don't know what's on it but I know this is what those guys are looking for." Ricky sat up in his bed, furrowing his brows questioningly.
"What is that?"
"I don't know but I have to give it to him before they find me."
She had gotten to her feet in an instant and Ricky was quick to hop out of bed and grab her before she dashed out of the room. The room began spinning and black dots clouded his vision somewhat. "Whoa, whoa, okay… shit, Darlene, where the hell do you think you're going?"
"I need to find him, Ricky. I could save him before it's too late."
"Why don't you just give it to the police and let them deal with it? You can't get involved in whatever this fucking mess is. Do you want to be where I'm at?"
She stared into his eyes for some minutes, letting his words sink in, before she snatched her arm out of his grasp. He nearly toppled over from the loss of balance. He quickly grabbed onto the railing of the hospital bed, having no other choice but to ease himself back in before he collapsed on the floor.
Gotta add 'don't fucking move too fast' on the list of shit I'm not allowed to do right now. Gotcha.
"I'm already involved. I have to help."
Her words sounded so far away and jumbled in his head, almost like he was underwater. He figured taking too many hits to the head like he did definitely wasn't good for his condition.
It took him a few minutes to get his bearings, where he could finally see more than just black spots just out of his vision. His head was throbbing erratically and he pressed the button on the remote that shut off the lights in his room. He was very aware that Darlene was long gone by the time he had calmed down. The lone light in the room came off from the TV, and he saw something bright out of the corner of his eye.
Turning his head, he saw a small box wrapped in the most obnoxious green wrapping paper sitting on his beside table. He was thrown back to last night when Evil and his brother came for a visit.
He opened it earlier this morning, telling Darlene that it was just a present from his aunt, the gaudy one who wore too much perfume and still smelled like cat piss. It was a disposable phone and a note that had a phone number written on it. On the back read something ominous. Something along the lines of "call this number if you don't want us coming back". He had that number memorized by now.
With a shaky hand, he grabbed the box and opened it again.
"Fuck it." He muttered to himself, as he bit his lip and read the phone number again. His hands were shaking so much. "Jesus Christ…"
A tear dropped down onto the note as he dialed the phone.
Butch flicked the flame to life and brought it to the white stick, breathing in deeply. The smoke filled his lungs in the delicious way that it did, burning and suffocating to the point where he couldn't hold it in anymore. With a long breath, he let the smoke out through his nose, watching with faint interest as it quickly floated away with the wind.
Wading through shit all morning wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but kicking a few asses surely made up for it. Without even looking back to the painful groaning coming from the five gangrene idiots, Butch made his way through the rest of the junkyard before he pulled his phone out to check his messages.
Seven were from Brick, and all of them were just telling him to meet him at Keane's place. Butch scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. How the hell was he supposed to know where Edna lived? It's been a while since they used her house as a hideout. He sent a quick text back asking for the address and he was immediately met with a response.
- Fuckface.
Well, Butch scoffed, that was rude.
Before he could type out a response, his phone began ringing. He didn't recognize the number immediately but there was only one person who had the number to this phone.
He answered and listened to the shaky breathing on the other end. "What?"
"I got some information for you."
Butch let a slow grin stretch his face. "Oh yeah? I'll be right over."
"Same bed, I—uh—I haven't moved."
"Didn't think you did, kid. Heh." He hung up without another word and began his sprint towards the hospital, at the same time sending a message to Brick.
Following up on a lead. See where it goes.
- That might not be necessary. I have Tweedle-Idiot.
Never hurts to double check.
- We need you here fast. Don't fucking stop for smokes again.
Lucky for Brick, fast was Butch's forte.
Okay, maybe it wasn't.
Butch snorted to himself, "'Don't stop for smokes', he says. That's funny."
Buttercup sighed as she held the phone up to her ear, letting the comforting silence soothe her as she and Bubbles waited in Keane's backyard. Bubbles had taken to playing with the white kitten while Buttercup stayed on the phone.
"Yaknow, this is the second time you put yourself in some serious shit, BC." Mitch's voice said through the speaker. She found comfort in his smoker's choke, relishing in the familiarity of it. It felt like weeks since she had last seen him when it's really been days.
"A lot's happened, Mitch." She replied simply, unsure of what to say to him. A lot has happened but that's not something that she can just blurt out to him. Knowing the kind of guy Mitch is, he'd probably run over here and tell her that, nope, she's definitely not fucking getting involved in this mess.
Especially after she's supposed to be taking a break from superheroing.
"Listen, BC, you can always come to me when you need to, okay? You don't have to battle the world by yourself."
"I know, Mitch. It's just… a lot to take in right now."
He was quiet, almost like he wanted to ask but knew better not to. "You're gonna be okay tonight? Got somewhere to stay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm back home with the girls." Bubbles looked up from where she sat some distance away. Buttercup offered her a small smile. "I'll be good, I think."
"A'ight. I'll let you go. You know how to reach me if you need to, babe."
"I'll talk to you later, Mitch. Thanks for checking up on me."
"You got it. See you."
"See you."
As she hung up the phone, she looked over at Bubbles who came to sit next to her. "What are you thinking?" Bubbles asked quietly as the two of them watched Keane's white kitten play around in the grass.
"I'm thinking that GHB tastes shittier coming back up."
We both looked at each other and laughed.
"Don't joke about those things, stupid. That was scary to hear." Bubbles said as she playfully shoved me to the side. "I was worried that something bad happened to you out there."
I shrugged my shoulders, "Nothing I can't handle." I could feel my thoughts taunting me even as I said that. Being almost taken advantage of the way that I was, and then being rescued by the last person I ever thought… it still plays like a movie inside my head. Over time I started to kind of remember bits and pieces of what happened. I'm not too concerned about figuring out everything, since it's obvious what would have happened if Boomer hadn't came in when he did.
"You know, I never liked you going out." Bubbles confessed as she played with the hem of her skirt. I quirked a brow curiously. "I never knew what was going to happen. Drinking affected our powers, it made us less observant and vulnerable. I was worried sick that I'd wake up the next day and find out that something happened to you while you were like that."
I guess with all the partying I did, or as often as I went out with my friends, I never really thought of what impact it would have on my family. I knew the Professor and Blossom were stuck in the lab to really think about what me or Bubbles were doing. And Bubbles I had thought would also go out to see a guy or to be with her girlfriends. I never really took into account that when I leave and Blossom joins the Professor in the lab, that Bubbles would be by herself in the house doing nothing but worry about me coming home in one piece.
I wondered how long she was feeling like that.
"I'm sorry." I muttered, feeling ashamed that I made my sister worry so much.
"Don't apologize, dummy." Bubbles laughed, though her eyes were red with tears that haven't fallen yet. "I'm always going to worry about you."
"Ah, you shouldn't. I'm made of steel."
Bubbles punched me solid in the shoulder and I cursed under my breath. "More like plastic to me." She teased, knowing full well that her left hook was stronger than any of mine. She may look cute, but my sister was definitely not frail. Not by a long shot. No matter what the tabloids liked to say about her, I was not going to go messing around with Bubbles when she had arms that could send you flying.
"You know what?" I taunted, wrapping my arm around her neck and bringing her in for a chokehold. She laughed gleefully and my roughhousing and shoved us both onto the ground.
We wrestled in the grass for a while, her squealing every time I got the jump on her and me swearing whenever she had me pinned.
It was something Bubbles and I never had before, this closeness. When we were kids, I never messed around with her like this because I didn't think she could take it. I was a rough kid, I played too aggressive and I knew how sensitive she was. So playfighting was just something I did with Mitch. But over the years, Bubbles really showed me that she's just as tough as I am, and sometimes I forget that. I'm so used to her being my sweet, dumb little sister that I forget that, hey, she's a badass too. Our "sistership", as she calls it, really grew as we got older. We leaned on each other for support because it was just us two for the longest time. It was me and Bubbles against the world, it seemed like. When it came to boys, we had each other's backs. When it came to fighting crime, I tended to back her up just a little more than I did with Blossom. When it was a Friday night and there was nothing to do, I'd let her do my nails and we'd bake cupcakes together and watch a scary movie because Bubbles really loves her scary movies.
Our bond was something we didn't have as kids. It was something I never thought we'd ever have, to be honest. So, the fact that we can do this now, in our twenties, wrestling in the grass without a care in the world, despite the mess that I seemed to get us into… it was nice.
"You know I love you, right?" I asked her some time later, the both of us trying to catch our breaths as we lied next to each other. "I wouldn't ask for a better sister."
"I love you more, BC." Bubbles smiled back at me, before she shoved me. "Even if you do smell like vomit."
"Give me a kiss, Bubs!"
"Grow up!"
For a second, I was thrown back to when I was 5.
For a second, I forgot what was waiting inside the house.
For a second, this life felt kind of normal.
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