29. Happiness
Bubbles could've sung.
Being calm and cool was never how she chose to fight. She didn't feel like herself when she did. Every time he insulted her or made a crude remark she felt a surge of fury, of wild joy. Her hits weren't as accurate, her strength not quite at full peak. This…this was her. Blossom lost it and her fighting fell apart. Buttercup lost it and she got better. Bubbles lost it, and she felt like smiling.
She wanted to thank him for every time he looked up her skirt or thrust his hand down her shirt during this fight, because it made her feel better. She tried to stay calm, to be like Blossom and just get the job done, but every time she tried she just couldn't. He wouldn't let her. He wouldn't let her be anything other than herself.
Now they were stuck there, jammed together by the pipe she'd driven into his belly herself, their blood mingling and staccato breaths clashing. His remaining good eye was trained on her as she tried to break away, but her strength leached away and she felt limp in his crushing grip.
His eye closed and his head fell back, but his arms didn't slacken. She wasn't sure if it was rigor mortis or sheer exhaustion, but whatever it was, he wasn't letting her go.
She could kill him right now, if he wasn't already dead. Her face pressed against his neck was a prime opportunity. She let her cheek rest there for a moment, simply because it distracted from the agonizing pain of having something sharp and metal carving out a circle of her midsection. His jugular pulsed faintly. He was still with her. For now.
She tried to fire up her lasers. She tried to sink her teeth into his flesh and tear away. She tried summoning a sonic scream to blast his head into nothing.
She just couldn't do it. Her Chemical X was already working hard on trying to heal her broken wrist, her dislocated shoulder, her twisted ankle, and various internal bleeding sites before the pipe. She was exhausted. She tasted blood in her mouth. She knew it was only a miracle or coincidence that both she and Boomer had missed impaling each other's spines.
His arms crushed her, making it difficult for her to breathe. Only her ear pressed to his throat let her know he was still alive for now. She felt her eyes drifting closed as the pain in her stomach lulled.
The others would find them. Perhaps they would both already be dead. The thought made her strangely content.
She hummed under her breath, smiling, and waited for the darkness to steal over her vision.
A/N: And here's part two.
I don't know, guys. I try to write violent Blues and their incorrigible optimism stabs me in the face. XD
Review. And stuff.
