Mysterion huffed in exhaustion. Behind him he heard the pained groan from one of his friends. This wasn't good. Whenever they dodged one of the balls shot from a ball shooter they would get showered with foam darts and these stung. From the way their situation looked, it seemed like they had planned for them do dodge the ball shooter ammo. It sometimes even seemed like the kids on the shooters weren't aiming for them directly, sometimes. General Disarray appeared to have found a new hobby he enjoyed, and his aim wasn't half bad.

Toolshed was rubbing his exposed arms that were littered with red dots that started to grow darker, hit marks. Human Kite was using his kite as shield but that thing was slowly getting more and more holes. Super Craig was pissed enough to insult and flip of any Minion that aimed at him. He even kicked one of the soccer balls back. Mysterion couldn't help the chuckle when one of the Minions got hit square in the face with it. Tupperware on the other hand seemed fine for the most part. His getup was protecting him from the foam darts but made it harder for him to dodge the ball shooters. And Mosquito, well he was switching between insulting Chaos and whining about every dart that hit him, it didn't help that that made him repeatedly the target, though that gave the rest of them a breather every now and then.

Another silver tipped dart barely missed Mysterion's face and he spared a short moment to glare at the shooter. These kids had a good aim, a fact that he was willing to admit. But their good aim wouldn't stop them from getting out of this. He looked over his shoulder at his friends as another shout from Human Kite to Professor Chaos echoed in the hall.

In between all this everyone was yelling out to the blond villain whenever they got a spare moment. Some went the insulting route, like Craig for the most part, others tried reasoning, like Kyle choice but he was losing patency. But they all had one thing in common; they tried telling him over and over again that they had no part in Buttlord getting beaten by sixth graders. It was still a shock to all of them, and the constant bombardment wasn't helping them to deal with the shock.

Thinking about whenever he got a breather made him sick to the stomach and he felt like he failed his friend there. He wanted to protect her just like his little sister. Now realized that he didn't protect her from the sixth graders, hell he didn't even know about this. His thoughts turned to the flyers that he still kept around to give to the brunette. Mysterion still wanted to help her, but first he decided he would make it up to her. He knew he could somehow; they just needed to convince Butters that it wasn't them that hired the sixth graders. How did the blond even get to the conclusion that someone hired them?

With his thoughts running over possible theories of how Chaos figured something out they hadn't even known about, he was distracted enough not to hear Toolsheds shouting or the chorus 'Watch outs!' from the others. The next thing he knew was that he was lying flat on his back and his face hurt like hell and something warm seemed to tickle down from the point where he was supposed to feel his nose. Through mind numbing pain he distinctly heard Kyles shout that silenced everyone and ceased the bombardment.

"BUTTERS THAT'S ENOUGH! THEY BROKE HIS NOSE! THIS IS GOING TO FAR NOW!"

Well that explained the feeling of warm liquid running down his face. Carefully sitting up he uselessly tried to stop the blood flow by holding his nose with one hand. The blood still tripped onto the front of his shirt. If the bleeding won't stop soon he might hit the end with blood loss this time, possible but probably unlikely. He hadn't heard of anyone dying of blood loss from a broken nose before.

"T-that…. I… didn't…" Butters unsure voice resounded and his eyes were wide when Kenny made eye contact with him. The blond boy broke away and looked them all, his eyes reflecting an internal conflict he must be feeling right now.

"We didn't do it!" Kyle pushed on. "You just hurt Kenny on a mere accusation! It wasn't us you good damn idiot! He is fucking bleeding for real!"

The others chimed in agreeing. Seemed like Hero identities are off for the moment. Guess when one starts bleeding for real and not just pretended with ketchup is another reason to call off game antics to get serious. But that didn't stop some of the kids from glaring at them, while others did look rather remorseful.

He saw it. A flicker in Butters' eyes, then clenched fists like something just resurfaced in his mind. Determent eyes looked down at them again as the blond crossed his arms again. "If not you guys, who else could have done it? I know you guys! Don't think I have forgotten any of the shit you guys pulled in the past!"

"Can't say he is wrong." Craig muttered but Kyle glared at him and hissed a low. "That's not helping."

By now a huge blood splatter covered the 'M' from the front of his shirt but his full attention was on Butters. "Why do you even think we hired them?" He ground out, gruff voice muffled slightly. Despite game antics being indirectly called off he still choose to use his hero voice.

"The sixth grader we interrogated told us." The red haired kid they knew as General Disarray told them. He was still glaring at them but also seemed to be on edge, his eyes flickering over to Butters every few seconds.

He caught the subtitle shake of Butters head. His eyes narrowed, they were planning something and his damned nose wouldn't stop hurt like a bitch nor bleeding. Kenny slowly getting a bit dizzy also, the argument that started to form between his friends went over his head as he was focused on watching the interaction between the red haired kid and Butters.

"The junkyard?"

Her lips twitched upward, betraying her default look, as she watched the blond boy. The bag on his shoulder slipped and thumped on the ground. This was more amusing that she had originally expected.

"The junkyard?" Trent repeated once more, turning to look at her with annoyance. "I expected something cool, a secret base maybe underground or even in an attic or cellar of your house but not his!"

Buttlord shrugged and blinked a few times, took out her phone and started to type something down. She heard a frustrated sigh and looked up. Instead of sitting down on an old nearby microwave, like she expected, Trent picked up a rusty pipe and swung it around like a baseball bat.

Letting out a sigh of her own, Buttlord finished the text on her phone and carefully neared Trent. The pipe he was swinging around made that difficult and she had to duck a few times before she got close enough to tap him on his shoulder. Her first reflex was to duck away when he turned but again, he dropped the pipe despite her expectations and looked at her funny.

"What?" Regaining her body compose and dusting off imaginary dust to maintain her image despite her face still hold the same blankness, she showed him her phone.

-The junkyard is the last place anyone would look for us. Best place to tinker with fireworks unnoticed. Plus we can use the stuff we find here too.-

The mean kid raised an eyebrow at that. "The fireworks I get, no one would care if we accidentally burn some thrown away stuff. But you want to build something with garbage? I don't see anything useful here."

-You had fun swinging around that rusty pipe.-

"That's not building something." He retorted annoyed instantly, that still didn't dim the mischievous light in her eyes. Instead of typing something out again he watched how Buttlord walked over to a pile of stacked up metal ranging from old coffee machines to toasters to televisions and to washing machines.

Buttlord knew he was watching her but she didn't care, she kept going through the pile. Sometimes she still felt grossed out by what she found and moved to a different spot but that didn't stop her from picking out certain things and duping them on a different pile close to Trent. She used that moment to send him a look. Asking him wordlessly what he was waiting for as she nodded from the pile she gathered to the junkyard surrounding them.

"You really suck at communication you know."

She didn't hesitate to show him the birdy, somehow she really appreciated her other friends way more now. They at least understood her silent ques. Despite knowing that she brought this upon herself with her wish to let him play with them, she still hoped that Trent would soon understand her silent language. Maybe not as good as Butters but at least the same way her other friends did.

It was silent aside from their rampaging in the junkyard. It was neither a comfortable nor an uncomfortable silence. Buttlord was mentally going through her plan, her body more or less on autopilot. But her mind drifted away from her plans towards if she had remembered to feed her fish today again, then towards the homework that was awaiting her at home.

"So what do we need all these metal tubes for?" Snapping her head to the Buttlord blinked a few times before registering Trent's expectant look and the question he had asked. Pausing for a moment she stood straight again before fishing out her phone and typed a question of her own on it.

-Do you know about Asian fireworks?-

All she got as answer was a questioning look. She smirked lightly, but in the back of her mind she really hoped that Trent wasn't a pyromaniac.

Having used an excuse to get away from his friends for a while, he walked through a few back streets. He gave a curt look over his shoulder just to make sure that no one was following him. The plastic bag was clutched to his chest.

Seeing how no one was following him, he felt slightly silly for his minor panic attack as his hold on the plastic bag relaxed slightly. Still he hurried through the streets to the meeting point. When he arrived he saw that they were already there waiting.

A glare was sent his way and he gulped. For a moment he felt like all this had been a bad idea from the start but someone had needed to do something. Seeing how his friends went more with the flow and that wasn't enough. So he had stepped in, in his mind he was still doing the right thing.

"You got your part of the deal?" The sixth grader before him who appeared to be the leader asked, his arms crossed as he looked down at him.

Mutely he nodded showing the plastic bag.

The sixth grader made a motion to hand over the bag. Looking down at it he hesitated for a moment. Questioning again if what he did was really right in the means of justice. A second later the back that contained his father's old magazines and a video that apparently traumatized one of his friends.

The sixth grad leader inspected the things and smirked. "Good."

A relieved sigh escaped him and he turned to leave but stopped in his tracks when he heard the leader talk again. "If ya need us to beat another forthy just give us a call!"

His body tensed at the thought of dealing with sixth graders again. If everything worked the way he hoped for it wouldn't happen again. "That'z not necezzary anymore."

Besides he still had a duty as super hero to uphold.

I am sorry for updating so late, but I did not think that school and work at the same time would be so stressful. Even now I still feel like I would fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.

I also have to say that this chapter was rewritten at least 10 times the past days and I am still not happy with it. I hope you all still enjoyed reading it despite of my own feeling towards this chapter.

So thank you all for taking the time to read this and thank you all for the PMs, Reviews, Favs and Follows.

Btw... did those that follow get a notification when I last updated? I am not sure but apparently I hat a few PM messages saying that they didn't know I update. So I am just curious.