Chapter 21 – Peace Lies Within

"Grandpa!" Bridie shouted, her tiny voice echoing through the cool autumn air of Townsville. She led the seven of them past the city and past the suburban neighborhoods down to their street, their colorful blazes visible even in the hazy moonlight. It felt wonderful to be home again, Blossom and her sisters all feeling an intense sense of relief. Even the boys enjoyed the familiar air whipping past their windswept cheeks. Bridie called out again.

"Grandpa!"

"Professor!" Buttercup joined in, looking at Bridie. They beamed at one another, and the two of them called out again simultaneously.

"Grandpaaaa!"

"Professorrrr!"

Within seconds, the Utonium Chateau was visible below, the three circular windows glowing brightly. They then saw a small figure stagger out the front door, straining his neck as he looked up to the sky. The Professor, still in his robe and pajamas, stared up at them joyfully. Bridie squealed and after a quick burst of sea green light, collided full force into him, knocking him off his feet.

"Bridie, sweetheart!"

"Grandpa!"

The two collapsed into the grass, Bridie hugging the Professor and blubbering into his shoulder. Butch and Buttercup landed near them, the others touching ground shortly after behind them. The Professor sat up, still cradling Bridie in his arms. He looked up at Butch and Buttercup.

"I knew you could do it," he said, smiling. Bridie slid off the Professor's lap, and Buttercup reached down to help him up. He stood up, and then immediately embraced his daughter. He held her tight, and even Buttercup let out a few heavy sobs into her father's shoulder. As they pulled away, the Professor wiped the tears away from his daughter's eyes. Buttercup chuckled shakily.

"It's good to see you smile again, Buttercup," the Professor said gently. He turned to Butch. Butch smirked and took a small step back, suddenly uncomfortable. The Professor's smile widened.

"Don't act like that," the Professor chuckled. He stepped over to him, arms wide. "Come here, son."

He hugged Butch, who almost jumped out of his skin, unsure of how to react. Then, he very awkwardly patted the Professor's back. Buttercup watched them, and couldn't help but bust out laughing. Professor pulled away and looked at Butch.

"Thank you."

"…Yeah. Y-Yeah, no problem," Butch stuttered.

"And thank you for coming back," the Professor added.

"Yep…"

"I'm so proud of you all," the Professor said the others. Blossom and Bubbles grinned, as Boomer shuffled nervously next to them. Brick stood a few feet away, hands behind his back and smirking coolly. The Professor nodded at him, and then took a step over to Boomer. He put a hand on Boomer's shoulder, and Boomer winced. Then, just as suddenly, he relaxed, the gesture much more calming then he imagined.

"Well," the Professor started, reaching into the pocket of his robe and pulling out his signature corncob pipe. "I believe this calls for some tea, coffee, and a full retelling of this adventure,"

"Well, duh!" Bubbles exclaimed.

"I'm hungry!" Bridie said suddenly. "Can we make breakfast?"

"It's three in the morning," Blossom commented.

"So?" Butch snorted, pulling Bridie up in the air and into his arms.

"Breakfast sounds delicious," the Professor announced, lightly nudging Boomer towards the front door. "Chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs and toast…"

The Professor entered the Chateau, followed by Butch, Buttercup, and Bridie. Bubbles bounded forward, grabbing Boomer's hand at the same time and dragging him through the front door. Blossom hovered over to the door. She stopped, her toes grazing the gray pavement. She turned around. Brick was still standing idly on the front lawn, his deep red eyes sparkling.

"You can join us, you know," Blossom said. Brick chortled, pushing off the ground and floating towards her. Blossom closed the door, still facing Brick. His eyebrows flashed as he approached her.

"That was magnificent back there," Blossom said. "What you did to Colette. I wanted to tell you earlier, but, you know…"

"Hey, well, your scheme to make her confess was pretty good, too," Brick retorted, shrugging his shoulders. "Not to mention having all the guards use up their ammo while we hid in the shadows. Pretty clever." Blossom nodded. They hovered in silence a moment, crickets chirping softly nearby. Then Blossom clicked her tongue.

"Since you're not coming in, I'm guessing you're leaving, huh?" Blossom asked curtly. She pursed her lips into a small pout.

"Yeah," Brick admitted. His smirk faltered a little. "I gotta tell my boss everything. I think I'll get a raise. Maybe a promotion. I kinda saved his life, sort of..."

"Good luck with that," Blossom chided, her voice containing only a hint of sincerity.

"What, you pissed at me?" Brick questioned, one eyebrow raised.

"No," Blossom spat. Then, strangely, her expression softened. "Just… didn't think you'd leave… right away."

"It's just business," Brick reasoned. "And, uh… I'll be back."

"Eventually," Blossom said. Suddenly, a small smile broke on her face. She looked away, trying very hard not to look at Brick in the eyes. "You'll let me know."

"Of course," Brick groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, don't sound too happy about it," Blossom teased. "God forbid you have to keep in touch with me, good lord."

"I'm not too happy about it," Brick said quietly. "It's a shame, really, that that's how it's gotta work."

Blossom finally looked up at him. He stared at her, his eyes glowing. Blossom's smile faded. There was another long silence, the crickets sounding louder by the second.

"Well, uh, we can, um, stop being awkward now," Blossom stammered finally. She grasped the doorknob nudging her backside. "See you later, Brick."

She whirled around, turning the knob as she went, and opened the door. Then, just as fast, Brick slammed the door shut, whirled Blossom back around, and pressed his lips against hers. They kissed, long… hard… almost violently. Blossom felt herself melt to the ground, a strange burning exploding in her chest. After several seconds, Brick pushed himself away from her and flew back several feet into the air.

"Don't miss me," Brick snickered, licking his lips. Blossom leaned against the door, trying to catch her breath and smooth some fresh tangles out of her hair. She snorted.

"I won't," she said defiantly.

"Good," Brick grumbled. "Make it like you care or something."

"Oh, please," Blossom scoffed.

"Au revoir, ma cherie," Brick called, spinning up into the air and waving his hand. Blossom smirked and held up her hand.

"Bye, Brick."

And in one fiery streak through the sky, he was gone. Blossom waved once, smiling to herself. She turned around, grabbing the doorknob once more. She sighed, and before could she prevent it, the fire in her chest faded into a painful twinge. She sighed again, deeper. She knew this was how it was going to be, and a part of her was disappointed in herself for feeling like this. But… this is how it's gotta be. Oh well. C'est la vie, eh? Blossom huffed, turned the knob, and went inside.

Everyone was already in the kitchen preparing food and jabbering away, the Professor flipping pancakes and Buttercup dishing them out to the rest of them at the table. Bubbles and Boomer sat together across from Butch and Bridie, two empty seats next to Butch and one next to Bubbles. Blossom heard the shocked gasps of Buttercup and the Professor as Bubbles retold the night at the club, wording the part about her dancing very carefully, given the audience. Butch heartily added the part about Boomer getting stabbed, who suddenly joined in quite eagerly to tell his part of the tale. The smell of coffee and buttermilk pancakes tickled Blossom's nose as she floated in the doorway, soaking in the happy atmosphere. Bubbles finally noticed her after a few minutes.

"Hey you! Where's Brick?" she asked right away.

"He had to go back right away," Blossom replied, ignoring the twinge in her chest. "He sends his regards, though."

"Bitch," Butch snarled, cutting up a stack of pancakes for Bridie. "He's gotta tell his side of things. We're all doing it."

"Did you already talk about the lumpkins?" Blossom mentioned.

"Oh, shit!" Butch cried out, passing the plate over to Bridie. "The fucking lumpkins! And the drinking contest, whoa man…"

"Drinking contest," Buttercup repeated shortly, not even looking at Butch.

"It was my idea," Blossom told her sister, much to Butch's delight. Butch pulled his own plate towards him, swallowed a syrupy pancake whole, took a large sip of coffee, and started to explain himself.

"Well, see, here's what happened…"

Blossom took the seat next to Bubbles as Butch retold the whole visit to the warehouse, Bubbles and Boomer adding the occasional remark here and there. Buttercup didn't seem very impressed with Butch, no matter how much he stared intently at her the entire story. Blossom could sense that her sister was less irate than she acted, though. After that story, Blossom, Bubbles, Boomer, and Butch finished telling their entire adventure, though they conveniently left out some of the juicier details including Butch's tear-filled hangover and Bubbles and Boomer's relationship (not that the latter wasn't obvious, though.) After that, it was Bridie's turn to tell her side. Her family was glad to hear how well she put up with that Jack character, though Butch and Buttercup were less than happy to hear how he put up with her.

"Well, he'll be recuperating in a hospital for at least a month," Buttercup growled.

"Then he'll be fresh meat for the inmates afterwards," Butch added. He and Buttercup then shared a silent moment of agreement, though they refused to meet eye to eye.

"Hey, Buttercup?" Blossom said suddenly, stirring some sugar into her coffee.

"Yeah?"

"Where were you?" Blossom questioned, steering them onto the next important story.

"I told you guys," Buttercup said. "Locked in a fucking cellar for almost a week, thanks to the Queen of Clubs and her Gangreen minions."

The others each made their respective noise of surprise, and Buttercup went into her story. She told them all about the Z injections, Evie Strike's infamous temper and her comeuppance, Ace's heel face turn, and most importantly, her shadow powers.

"So that's really your special power, right?" Bubbles asked hopefully. "And you're not pregnant. Right?"

"Fuck no," Buttercup barked. "Thank God… I'd kill someone."

Butch made a particularly strange face, almost… hurt. Buttercup didn't seem to notice, and continued.

"But no, I'm not pregnant, and yes, I guess those are my powers. I'm glad I finally figured it out."

"We're glad, too," Blossom assured. "It really helped us out in the end."

"It did," Buttercup chuckled, her eyebrows flickering. "I don't know what would happen if I didn't figure it out in time. I guess I just got lucky."

"Luck had nothing to do with it," the Professor said sagely. "It was in you all along. You just had to figure out how to use it at the right time."

"…Well said, Professor," Buttercup said with a nod.

They spoke a while longer, mostly small talk now about how good it was to be back home. They finished eating, carelessly tossing their dishes in the sink when the Professor promised to take care of them in the morning. Blossom could feel a certain heaviness overwhelming her, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. And from the looks of the others, she wasn't the only one: Bridie dozed soundlessly on Butch's lap, and Bubbles stifled a yawn as the Professor started to nod off in his chair.

"I think we oughta catch some shut-eye now," Blossom announced, pushing back her chair. A buzz of agreement went around the table as the others stood up. Buttercup carefully lifted Bridie off of Butch's lap and carried her into the living room. On his way out, the Professor skipped over to them and gave them both a kiss on the forehead. Afterwards, he bid the others good-night and headed upstairs to bed. Bubbles led Boomer to the couch, and Butch and Blossom took opposite armchairs, all of them practically collapsing in their respective seats. Bridie snuggled against Buttercup, who held her daughter close and stroked her hair. The two curled up on the couch opposite Bubbles and Boomer.

The six of them shared a long, peaceful silence. Blossom, tired, though still pretty alert, observed them quietly. Boomer was completely out, mouth hung slightly, his breathing faint. Bubbles nuzzled against his arm staring off into space looking very pleased with the world. Butch had a funny expression on his face as he looked around the room, his eyes frequently falling on Buttercup and Bridie. Blossom gazed at her sister and niece, too, and suddenly, her heart fluttered with a warm, gentle sensation. The sight of them, mother and child together at last, was just too precious. In fact, she had never seen Buttercup so calm, so tender, so… at peace. It was no wonder that the only word that Blossom could find to describe Butch's expression was "lovesick."

Just then, Buttercup opened her eyes and looked at Blossom. She didn't speak, just… looked. Blossom smiled warmly. Buttercup didn't react for a moment… then, she smiled back. Her eyes shined in the golden lamplight, a sunny glow on her skin. Despite the dark circles under her eyes, the untreated wounds all over body, and the emotional strain from this past week, Buttercup was… happy.

"Hey," Buttercup said, sitting up. She glanced at Bridie. "Can you… can you watch this?"

"Of course," Blossom said with a chuckle. She scooted off the chair and knelt before Buttercup. Buttercup slowly placed Bridie into her sister's arms, and just as slowly, Blossom scooted back into her chair. She moved some hair out of Bridie's face. Buttercup stood up and floated over to the front door, her hand just grazing Butch's knee. She turned back to Blossom.

"I'm gonna… you know…"

"I know," Blossom said with a nod. "Don't get nabbed again."

"I won't," Buttercup promised. She opened the front door, letting a crisp morning breeze billow into the room. She turned around one last time. She glanced at Butch, then back at Blossom. Blossom smirked. Finally, Buttercup left, closing the door behind her. Yet another silence occurred, and Butch stared at the door after Buttercup, his eyebrows furrowed. Blossom waited for Butch to do something – anything. Then, she sighed.

"You're supposed to go after her, Butch," Blossom spoke.

Butch sat up. "Wha– where?"

"Go find her," Blossom snapped.

Butch stood up. He paused, gaping at the door. He looked at Blossom, then at Bridie, then back at the door. He gulped. Finally, he shot over to the door, tore it open, and slammed it shut behind him.

"'Bout time," Bubbles mumbled from the couch. She yawned once more, then rolled over against Boomer. Blossom shook her head, bemused.

"You said it…"

Butch zoomed through the air towards the city, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He wasn't sure exactly where Buttercup was, which didn't help the fact that he wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do when he did find her. As luck would have it, though, after only a few seconds within city limits, he spotted her sitting on the ledge of tall skyscraper a few blocks away from the Town Hall. Butch stopped, hovering in mid-air for a moment. He sighed. Now or never, huh? As quietly as possible, he flew over to her, landing on the roof far behind her.

Buttercup didn't seem to notice him, facing the incoming sunrise. A breeze fluttered past her face, blowing her short ebony bangs out of her face. She looked tired, the bags under her eyes more prominent in the glowing sky light. Her eyes, though, shimmered curiously. Butch licked his lips, preparing the right words to say in his head as he floated near her and took a seat on the ledge a few feet away from her. To his dismay, she didn't move or acknowledge him in any way. The uneasy feeling in his stomach grew to full-blown nausea. He ignored it, though, and spoke.

"Hey."

Buttercup's eyebrows flickered. Butch took that as a reply. He cleared his throat.

"So, um…" he said, swiftly forgetting everything he wanted to say. He snorted, frustrated. He tried again. "Yeah… Uh… I… Um… I'm, uh… What I wanted to say was, um… I…"

"I'm sorry," Buttercup said softly. She still didn't look at him, but a tiny smile grew on her face.

"…Yeah," Butch burst, grinning. "I guess I wanted—"

"No," Buttercup interrupted. Butch looked at her, his stomach now flipping over on itself. "I'm sorry, Butch. I'm sorry for being a controlling bitch. I'm sorry everything worked out the way it did. I'm sorry for all those things I said to you. I'm sorry for treating you like shit half the time." She finally turned to him, the tiny smile now a serene smirk. "And I'm sorry I beat the shit out of you earlier."

Butch stared at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging stupidly. Buttercup chuckled.

"That black eye is pretty righteous, though," she commented, nodding at him. Butch's hand shot up to his left cheek, and he winced, pain stinging around his eye. He forgot about that… He laughed.

"Yeah, I guess," he agreed, rubbing around the bruise tenderly.

"And thanks," Buttercup added, her voice suddenly more serious than before. "Thanks for coming back."

"Yeah…" Butch mumbled.

They looked away from each other. They spent a moment in a surprisingly comfortable silence, Butch still massaging his bruise and Buttercup staring peacefully at the sunrise. The sky was growing lighter by the minute, a bright gold erupting from the horizon like flames. Butch stopped massaging his cheek and scooted closer to Buttercup, finally thinking of something worthwhile to say.

"So… I am never drinking again," Butch announced. "That shit makes me sick nowadays, since that contest. I mean, shit… OH! And I'm never going to a club ever again, not since my brother almost got stabbed by a fucking whore. Hot damn… and since I haven't had a cigarette in God-knows-how-long, I'm pro'ly quittin' that, too."

"That's nice," Buttercup said, unfazed, not looking at him again.

Butch blinked.

"Yeah… And, uh, I'm also sorry for all the shit I did, too. Especially walking out on you. That was… kinda shitty…"

"Really shitty," Buttercup corrected, simply.

"Really shitty…"

Butch stared at Buttercup. She was too uncharacteristically calm for this conversation. It was unnerving to Butch. He cleared his throat.

"Aren't you… You're… Do you hear what I'm saying?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah," Buttercup replied honestly.

"Then why aren't you, like, screaming at me or something?" Butch demanded. "Aren't you mad at me? You should be yelling and punching me and kicking things and… I don't know. Being pissed."

"Okay, look," Buttercup turned to him again, the smile gone from her face and her expression utterly stern. "I'm tired of being pissed all the time. What the fuck does it do to you anyway? It gets your kid taken away from you by some stupid bitches. It gets you locked up and forced into this cage, powerless. It gets your ass kicked from here to fucking China. It makes you walk away from things you actually care about. And in the end, it just makes you alone. So I'm not gonna piss and moan at you. It won't do anything good. And besides, I already beat the shit out of you. I don't need to do it again."

Then, she turned away again, her eyes even brighter. Butch eyed her, both shocked and confused.

"So… you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked quietly.

Buttercup sighed. "You are who you are, Butch. I'm not mad at you for being you. I don't care what you do anymore. It's not like you changed much since we first got together. You're not really hurting anybody, anyway. And—" She looked at him, her face softening. "—You came back. You always do."

It was Butch's turn to look away. Oh, holy hell, he did not expect this to happen at all. He wondered for a second if this was a very elaborate set-up to an even greater beating than before. He glanced back at her.

"So… now what?" he asked.

"I don't know, Butch," Buttercup grunted. "You tell me."

She wasn't looking at him anymore, but instead at the silver cuffs on her wrist. Butch snickered.

"Are those handcuffs?" he questioned. Buttercup grinned.

"Yes, yes they are," she replied. Suddenly, her arm disappeared, and the cuffs fell into her lap. Her arm flickered back into view as she picked up the cuffs and dangled them before Butch. His eyebrows rose.

"Why do you have handcuffs?" he questioned further, taking them from her. He played with them, hooking and unhooking them over and over again.

"I got them in high school when I first decided I wanted to be a cop," Buttercup explained. "I lost them, but I got 'em back recently."

"How'd you lose them?"

"When I lost my virginity and locked Ace up to the bed afterwards," Buttercup answered nonchalantly. "I just really wanted to get him back for being a douche bag all those years."

Silence. And then—

"….BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Butch fell back onto the roof, collapsing into a fit of laughter. Buttercup eyed him, smirking. Butch tried to speak to her through his fit. "I can't believe – Hahaha! – You actually – Hahahahaha! – Holy shit! – HAHAHA! – That's priceless…"

After a few moments, Butch finally got a hold of himself, and he crawled back to ledge, cuffs in hand, and leaned against the short brick wall. He looked up at Buttercup. She rolled her eyes. She then stood up, dusting the cement particles off her backside. Buttercup looked back at the sunrise once more, the brilliant light warming her whole body. She closed her eyes… and smiled. To be honest, she didn't really care what was going to happen anymore. She didn't think about it, really. All that mattered was that everything was okay. Her family was safe. The bad guys were taken care of. And maybe most importantly, she was at peace.

A thought suddenly came to Buttercup's mind. Words from a certain fortune cookie, of all things, whispered back to her in her own voice: "Be not violent or angry, peace lies within." She chuckled. Funny how she had forgotten that…

Click!

Buttercup opened her eyes. She looked down. On her left wrist hung one half of her handcuffs, the other attached to Butch's. Buttercup gagged, her lungs suddenly giving out on her. Butch led her off the ledge, and she floated into the air as Butch knelt down on one knee. He grabbed her hand, holding it tight.

"Buttercup, will you…" Then, Butch stopped, making a face. "Fuck! Okay, this is really weird because this is so not us. So, uh, I have to say this right, because it's just gonna sound so fucking stupid. Buttercup… will you… sorta-kinda marry me? In a way that doesn't include fancy outfits and lots of people and… and shit?"

Buttercup glared at him. He looked up at her, and his expression slipped from nervous excitement to moderate anxiety and all the way down to utter fear. Buttercup's expression never changed. Finally, after an excruciatingly long pause, Buttercup spoke.

"Shut up! Handcuffs? You're proposing to me with handcuffs?"

"Yes!" Butch cried out indignantly, shooting up in the air in front of her. "Damn, I was trying to be, like, symbolic and romantic and memorable—"

"Oh, God, yes!"

"—and awesome – Wh-wh-what? What?" Butch stammered.

Buttercup flung her arms him, twisting Butch's arm up painfully around his neck. He cried out and Buttercup pulled back. She huffed. She grabbed his wrist and yanked her own, breaking the chain. Then she promptly hugged him again, practically knocking him out of the air. He hugged her back, his stomach now doing somersaults. His heart was pounding now, too, the heat spreading through his body. The sun beamed down on both them, a fiery glow engulfing their embrace.

Buttercup pulled back again, cupping Butch's face in her hands. She looked at him, grinning. Then, her eyes narrowed, a hungry look overtaking her expression.

"Should we do it now or wait till we get home?" she asked.

Butch raised an eyebrow… then returned her keen expression. "Do it now. Do it now!"

"Oh, but what if somebody sees us?" Buttercup asked, feigning apprehension. Butch rolled his eyes. He slipped his hands down to her hips and roughly pulled her pelvis against his.

"Let 'em watch."