29. What's Love Got to do With It?
The silence was deafening. It swirled across the rubble strewn ground and between the heroes like the cold wind of realisation. The majority of them had managed to swivel round enough to see what had happened, but few had got much further.
There was very little blood, despite the hole in the chest. Since Him's blast had surged straight through Bubbles' heart, there was nothing to pump it around anymore, hence it had quickly settled into equilibrium. However, it had quickly become equally clear that this did not reduce the seriousness of the condition.
Eventually, Boomer staggered a few steps forward and feel rapidly to his knees beside his wife's head. Gently picking it up, his face an expression of horror, he ran his fingers gently over Bubbles' cold face down to the pulse in her neck, allowing him to confirm what he already knew. His head bowed slowly, and then he started to cry.
Buttercup had beaten him to it on that front, side stepping into the shell shocked Butch's arms. Brick attempted to do the same for Blossom, but to his surprise found himself shouldered off.
"No Brick, not now!" Blossom spoke firmly despite her cracking voice. Her words scraped across the silent land, making everyone not directly connected to the tragedy feel even more awkward. So as Blossom staggered round to Buttercup (the two of them quickly entering a mutual mourning hug and thus releasing Butch to comfort his brother,) Sonic gave them their marching orders.
"Dismissed," he said in a soft yet commanding voice, and all but the Puffs and Ruffs dispersed. The hedgehog himself took a moment longer. Having far to much experience in this sort of thing, he gently removed Superman's cloak from Blossom's shaking hand, and used it to cover the wounded Bubbles up to her head, giving the poor women what he considered to be some dignity. Then he left too.
This scene persisted for what seemed like an hour (although it was probably far less) with Brick and SP standing around like spare parts, and a short distance away Edward attempting console the guilt ridden MJ.
Eventually, Butch gently nudged Boomer on the shoulder. "We can't leave her here all night," he whispered. His brother sniffed heavily, but nodded. Grabbing the end of Superman's cloak, he readied himself to pull it over her face, but stopped again. It was only when, sometime latter, Blossom and Buttercup found the strength to join him in covering her up that they managed.
Having performed this symbolic act of acceptance, the four of them stood up again, still in tears, only for the cape that had been thinly covering Bubbles' body, to suddenly fall flat to the floor.
When Roland sombrely opened the black door to his apartment, he was surprised to see Brandy waiting just inside. "Hello there," he said more cheerfully then he felt, "have you been waiting for me?"
Buttercups four-year old unborn daughter nodded enthusiastically, before peering around him expectantly. Roland watched her do it. "What are you looking for?" he asked, as if he didn't know.
"I was hoping my Aunty might be here," she said, disappointedly, her shoulders sagging.
"Now what made you think that?"
"I… err…"
"I've told you before not to go searching through the hourglasses Brandy," Roland scolded firmly. "There are much better things that you should or could be doing."
"I know," Brandy said in the American accent she had somehow picked up despite being looked after by a European (Roland thought it might have come from Death himself). "But I did look and one of them carried the name Bubbles!"
Roland didn't have to think for long before deciding to lie. "Its quite a popular name you know," he said. "Therefore it wasn't you Aunty. Okay."
Brandy nodded sadly. Roland sighed.
"I need to have a wash," he said calmly, "and then I'll cook your dinner." Poor child, he thought, as he walked into the bathroom.
Brandy waited until he'd gone, and then scuttled over to Roland's cloak, which he'd hung on the rack. She was fairly certain Bubbles wasn't a common name, and sure enough, in one of the pockets, she found an hourglass…
With the others seemingly too afraid to, Brick reached down and whipped the cape back off the ground again. Sure enough, where there had once been Bubbles' body, there was now nothing. "What the Hell!" he muttered.
Boomer stared at the space. Then he started looking around franticly, in the hope of locating it, dropping to his hands and knees and feeling the ground in desperation. "Where… where did she go!" he cried. "Is she… I mean… What does this mean?"
Above him Buttercup stared at the space in fear. Immediately after Bubbles' death, she'd been desperately searching through the last few hours of conversation with her sister, trying to find some meaning in her words that suggested that she'd forgiven her for ignoring her for the last four years. Maybe she had, but her words and action carried a different sign too. The sign of a Bubbles that had been trying and failing to suppress a lust for power, one who feared what she had become and what she was capable of. Had she let Him's blast kill her in order to stop herself? And if so, had it worked?
"Buttercup, promise me that if you survive today, you'll learn to suppress it…"The words ran through Buttercups head. What did they mean?
"Maybe she's not dead…" the Green Puff found herself wondering aloud. Boomer swung round.
"What? Do you really think that's possible?" he asked, his voice filled with hope. "Then where is she?"
"Don't talk like that," Blossom interrupted quietly yet firmly, in a voice that instantly sucked the energy out of the conversation. "She's gone, and denial of that will drive us mad. We should let the dead stay dead." With that, she turned on her heal, and floated into the air. "Come on children, let's go and see if they've saved your father."
Edward and MJ followed quickly, leaving the rest where they stood. Eventually Brick spoke.
"What do you suppose she meant by letting the dead stay dead?" he asked. No one was supposed to reply, but SP wasn't 'no one.'
"She means this is your fault," she said without hesitation, killing the atmosphere at a stroke.
Eddy didn't seem too badly injured by the standards of some of the Superheroes that had come off the battle field. However he didn't have any powers to help protect him (although he had proved to be quite durable in the past.)
Blossom sat in the corner of his bay, holding his hand and staring belatedly at the heart monitor machine. She was alone now. Alice had apparently recovered, and Blossom had suggested to Edward that it might be wise to go and say hello to her, while MJ had asked to be excused. Blossom had been happy to oblige, since she didn't like seeming weak in front of her children. With them gone now she could let her face show how wretched she was feeling.
"Come on Eddy," she whispered quietly. "I can't afford to loose you and Bubbles."
There was a knock on the door. When she didn't answer, Sonic opened it anyway. There was none of his usual bluster, he just closed the door quietly, and sat down.
"Do you mind?" he asked. "I thought you might like some company." Blossom shook her head. Sonic paused for a minute. "I know what you're going through," he said quietly, his own voice cracking slightly. "I know what it's like to lose a sister, and to feel responsible for it."
"What makes you think I feel responsible?" Blossom said. Sonic raised an eyebrow, and the pink puff instantly cracked. "I could have stopped this…" she admitted, tears beginning to flow again. "If I'd just asked a few more questions, none of this would have happened."
"Unfortunately," Sonic replied slowly, "I think you're right. I would also say that you'd learnt something today, expect that you already knew it, didn't you?"
Blossom sighed heavily. "It's not right," she muttered. "I drop the ball for two weeks and my sister gets killed."
"That's the price you pay for doing this job," Sonic said, but his voice was full of regret. "I wish it was not so. But when you have such gifts, what are the other options? Super villainy or denial I suppose… but even Edward helped today."
"That's not quite what I meant," Blossom snapped. "If Crash decides to send a day in bed nothing would go wrong…"
"Yes it would, the bins wouldn't be emptied."
"… but I screw up and loose… so much." Blossom's head collapsed into her hands. Sonic put a gently hand on her shoulder.
"Some people are born into responsibility, some people gain responsibility and some people have responsibility thrust upon them," he said.
"Don't quote Shakespeare Sonic. It doesn't suit you."
"I didn't, he said greatness."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that your not seventeen anymore," the hedgehog replied. When Blossom just looked at him, he carried on. "Listen, when you were, you had not responsibilities, and nothing to worry about except your own future. Those were going to be the best days of your life, and its only right that you have great memories of those times and of the man you loved through them. But now you have a family to look after, and a world that needs you. If you really want Brick more then anything else, then you can have him. Go back to when you were seventeen. But you can't take anything with you. Your children will resent it, I think your lucky not to loose them anyway, and I'll never find anyone as good as you for your job. But the option is there. So it's your choice in the end: become seventeen and life for yourself, or stay thirty eight, and live a thankless lie for the world."
Blossom looked at Sonic hard. There was a glaze of tears on her eyes. "You know what I'm going to do, don't you."
Sonic nodded. "He's outside now, if you want to speak to him."
Blossom choked slightly. "I can't. It will destroy him."
"You've got to be cruel to be kind," Sonic replied as he stood up. "But I'll leave you to think it over. Remember what happened last time you hesitated."
"Thanks," Blossom replied bitterly. She looked back at Eddy's heart monitor again. "Okay, its now or never Blossom, whose it going to be. Brick… or everyone else?" Last time she'd had that choice she had hesitated, and had ended up with nothing. But even if she had chosen wrong as a seventeen year old girl, it could be put down to the inexperience of youth, and thus was reversible. However, at thirty-eight, she was (supposed) to be an experience adult, even if she didn't feel like one right now. This time, her decision would have to be final.
MJ hung on the outside of the hospital, staring dejectedly at the car park way bellow her. Not for the first time today, she was musing on life's great issues – most notably, what was the point?
Her battered, blood stained costume was drenched in sweat from the earlier battle, and it sucked the heat out of her in the cold wind. She really wanted a wash, but at the moment, she didn't feel that she deserved one. Besides, the state of the costume was a suitable metaphor.
There was a gentle thud on the wall next to her. "Good grief, you look a state," a male voice said cheerfully.
MJ looked across at Spider-man, who'd joined her on the wall. She took half a step away. "What are you here for, to arrest me?" she asked suspiciously.
"Why? I heard that you helped to save the world today."
"Only after I'd put it in danger first," MJ replied dejectedly.
"Ah well, we all do that occasionally," Spider-man chuckled.
"Really?"
"Of course. We may be superheroes, but that doesn't make us infallible. Besides, the villains wouldn't be doing there jobs properly if they didn't try to trick us."
MJ sighed. "Being a Superhero is hard," she lamented.
"What made you think it wasn't?"
"The stories my two aunties used to tell me when I was young," MJ smiled, remembering a better time. "It always sounded such an exciting job, and everything seemed to go to plan. Even being captured and tortured was just a setback, and the more often you nearly got killed, the better…" Her face crumbled. "Poor aunty Bubbles," she sniffed. "It shouldn't have happened. If I'd just been a little stronger, and not listened to Him, then it wouldn't have."
"Then next time, you will have the strength, won't you," replied Spider-man, in the tone of someone who knows.
MJ nodded. Then she plucked up courage to ask a question. "Is it possible to be a Superhero if you don't like people?"
Spider-man laughed. "Batman manages it! No, seriously, it is. Super villains don't like people either, but we have one thing that they don't: compassion. When you accidentally let that girl die…"
"…how do you…"
"…you couldn't live with yourself, could you?"
MJ sighed. "No."
"Your conscience forbid it. That's why Him tried to take it from you, and it is also why you will be a hero. As long as you feel you have blood on your hands – whether you actually were responsible or not – you will find the strength to do the right thing. In the name of your poor aunty."
Before MJ could reply, Spider-man jumped off the wall, and swung away, leaving the little Spider-puff with much more positive food for thought.
As expected, all the golden sand in the hourglass was sitting in a neat heap at the bottom; a sure sigh that it's owner's life had expired. That wasn't the whole story however, because when Brandy looked closer, she could see that in the top bowl, there was a very fine blue sand, which was flowing upwards. The amount of it was increasing too, quite rapidly. Brandy was no expert, but she was fairly sure it wasn't supposed to do that.
Brick wasn't alone outside when Blossom finally left Eddy's bedside. Buttercup, Butch and Boomer where there too, but it didn't look like they were planning to stay long.
"We just came to say that Boomer's going to spend the night with us," Butch explained (for his brother and wife were too choked to speak.) "You're welcome to join us of course," he offered supportively.
"Don't we have a few things to sort at home Blossom," suggested Brick, thinking back to there earlier argument.
"Err…" Blossom hesitated, just what she hadn't wanted to do. She was rescued however by Boomer, who managed to force a few words out of his mouth.
"How's Eddy doing?" he asked.
Blossom looked at the ring on her finger, and made her decision. "He's getting there thanks." Then she turned to Brick. "I think we better sort this out here."
"Oh, yes sure," said Brick, taking this to be a good sign. He was wrong.
"Alright." Blossom did her best to look him in the eye. "I think it might be best for us to go our separate ways."
Brick nearly fell over. "Pardon! That's a joke right!"
"Please Brick, think about it…"
"I am thinking! I don't see anything wrong with us!"
"Really?" Blossom countered. "Then why didn't you tell me the truth about how you got back to earth, even when we knew Edward had knocked someone up! Why did you tell my daughter that it was alright to pick on someone for revenge without consulting me first!"
"Okay, so I messed up a little bit, its not as if Eddy hasn't ever."
"Bubbles is dead Brick. That isn't a little mess up." Blossom sounded a lot more angry then she meant to, forcing Brick to take a step back. She composed herself. "Listen, we had some great times when we were young, but that was then. So much has changed since then, and I can't trust myself to be the person I need to be when I'm with you. You bring the best and the worst out of me and that is not something that can happen anymore. I'm sorry."
Brick watched open mouthed as Blossom turned and walked over to the door back to Eddy's hospital bay. Just as she got there, he found his tongue. "Don't you love me Blossom!? Do you deny that?"
Blossom's shoulders slumped, but she didn't turn round. "Under the circumstances Brick, I don't consider that question relevant." With that, she opened the door and gently closed it behind her.
Brick had gone slightly pale. He turned to the other for support, but found none. Boomer and Buttercup where staring into middle distance, while although Butch made eye contact with his brother, he didn't offer him any help.
"Things change," he said sympathetically. "People do too."
Blossom flopped in the chair beside Eddy's bed and collapsed her head into her hands. She'd done the right thing, she knew that. It didn't stop it hurting though like a dagger though the heart.
Then she felt a gentle hand on her knee. Looking up suddenly, she saw Eddy weakly looking at her, having regain consciousness. "You didn't have to do that," he croaked.
Blossom shook her head. "No, I did."
"Why?" Eddy coughed for a moment. "I thought that love conquered all?"
"It does. Everything accept love."
Somewhere in the deep depths of the universe, there was a thought. It doesn't really matter what it was, the fact that there was one was surprising enough. The thought thought about this for a moment, which by definition caused it to think. So after further thought it reached the following conclusions.
I think.
I think, therefore I am.
If I am, I am not not. So I am not dead?
Then it paused. What was it to be dead? Did such a concept apply to the thought.
I can not be dead, for I was never alive.
Then what am I?
More paused, as the fringes of time and space itself began to shake with fear.
I think, therefore I am.
I am Chaos.
There, finished. At last. Okay then, I will be writing another sequel, which will hopefully be more enjoyable (for me to write) and less heavy then this one. So hopefully it will be a bit quicker to. Thanks for reading, and thanks to SithKnight-Galen for helping me re-jig the ending.
