~Blossom~
Her phone rang again—she didn't need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. The same person who had called every past hour on the hour. She wasn't interested.
Beatrice had been exercising like a mad woman. She was already fairly in shape due to her dancing career, but she didn't want to take any chances.
-
"Wait. I'm confused. Who is Beth again? She killed Madame DeFranc?" Belle inquired, to which Bianca rolled her eyes in frustration.
"Beth isMadame DeFranc, the leader of the Townsville Rebellion—also known as the Head Rebellion. She had to change her identity in order to protect herself,"
Bianca had shown up on Beatrice's door step at around five in the morning, fresh with the smell of cold air.
'It's an emergency, can't wait. Call up Belle; she needs to be here immediately,'
The moment Belle stepped through Beatrice's doorway, Bianca began to speak—a mile a minute. If she were honest, Beatrice found it surprising to hear that Butch had been relatively the first of the brothers to crack and spill. She had thought it would have been Boomer—though she knew from working with him he puts up a tough exterior, a strong contrast to the soft and naïve Boomer of the past.
She wondered why the boys had changed so much. Was it simply because they grew, or was it something else? She shook the thought away, returning her focus to the conversation at hand.
Beth Jones—she had heard that name before. She remembered reading about Beth, who held on to her maiden name after marrying her husband, Louis DeFranc leader of the European Rebellion.
"What is it she wants from us?" It was Beatrice who spoke—breaking the silent vigil she had kept since Bianca began speaking.
"She's a good person, Bea."
"You know this for sure?"
"I've practically been living with her since I was sixteen," Bianca shot back, slightly defensive.
"She has a right to be suspicious, Bianca. Beatrice doesn't even know what Beth looks like,"
"Just trust me on this one. Beth has our best interests at heart,"
"So we're just supposed to give our identity away to, what, fifty people? What if they have spies? Infiltrators? The two of you don't even have your powers back," Bianca and Belle both looked away, for whatever reason.
"It's not possible. Most of the rebels have family that has been wrongfully imprisoned, or killed. Anyone else is strictly devoted,"
"I don't know,"
"Bea. I know you're scared, but we need this,"
-
They came to a comprise, Beatrice agreeing to reveal their identity to the rebels once at least one other sister had gotten their powers back.
She stopped doing sit ups and grabbed her water bottle, heading towards the ceiling window in her apartment. Her cat came up behind her, weaving through her legs as Beatrice took a sip of her water bottle.
She couldn't help it—mentally comparing this Townsville to the one that used to exist. Abandoned buildings filled the horizon, and on the streets the few people out were rushing to their destinations. She remembered being young, and wanting to see the world; learn all there is to learn. How quickly your dreams can be ripped from you.
Beatrice knew that she should be grateful she had the chance to cheat death, but she couldn't help but yearn for the life that was taken from her.
None of it added up—they were rivals, yes, but they gave up attempting to kill each other a while back. Both sides agreed it was a waste of energy. Their hesitation right before they went for the kill was obvious, but why?
Very rarely did Beatrice find something that truly stumped her, and this had been bothering her for years. It wasn't until then did she finally address what she had been suppressing for years.
~Buttercup~
Her skin crawled with anger, even after Madam—Beth had soothed her. She hadn't gone home—even after promising that she would. Instead, she did something completely out of character—she went drinking. It was now two-thirty in the morning and she was stumbling around in the streets, a dangerous feat.
Her heels clacked against the pavement and she shivered—she had left her coat at the bar, only just realizing it now. She wanted nothing more than to tear his head off, to give away her identity. She didn't care; she just wanted revenge, finally.
The wind blew her hair up and over her head, causing her to lose her footing and come crashing down on the pavement. It only hurt half as much as it should have, and to her surprise she found comfort on the ground. She wanted to cry, but she was much stronger than that. Things in her life have been worse before, but something about her current situation tore at her.
Perhaps it was because she let her guard down, allowed herself to feel emotion towards someone who had once been her sworn enemy, only to have her heart stomped on. She didn't cry, though she did feel dead inside. As time passed, and she still lay on the ground, she realized her anger was more towards her naiveté, rather than towards the man who had betrayed her.
Speak of the devil, and the devil will appear, "Bianca?" she scoffed silently at the soft tinge of concern in his voice. She felt her irritation rise at the fact that she didn't even need to see his face to know it was him.
He knelt down beside her—she could see him through the hair that covered her face, though she was certain he couldn't see her face.
How did he know it was me? The thought briefly moved through her mind; she didn't linger on it.
"Bianca." He repeated, slightly sterner, "If you can hear me, give me a sign,"
She groaned, and rolled away from him, no longer in a halfway fetal position—she was now just lying plainly on her back.
She chuckled, "Came to rub it in?"
"I—what?"
Even though he wasn't looking at her face, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, you know," she laughed darkly, "how you tricked the waitress who wouldn't give you the time of day, before you took her job away,"
"What are you talking about?" he seemed frustrated.
Well, so am I! She sat up on her left elbow, "You're a sick person, you know that? What did I ever do to you? Nothing. You're just a sociopath,"
He grabbed her wrist and made direct eye contact with her, "Bianca. I don't know what you're talking about!"
"You shut down Chez! You tricked me into letting my guard down and then you shut down my restaurant!" she screamed, ripping her hand away from him, wanting desperately to beat him up.
You know better.
"Chez has been shut down?" he sounded genuinely confused.
"Don't pretend you have no idea about it. I saw your signature of approval,"
"My father has my signature on a stamp,"
"What kind of idiocy is that?"
"Like it matters," he mumbled. If her powers hadn't been returning, she would have missed it.
"Tell me the truth. Did you sincerely have nothing to do with my restaurant being shut down?"
He looked at her carefully, "I had nothing to do with it," she unwillingly let out a sigh of relief, "Directly," he added, causing her to tense up.
"What do you mean?" she hissed.
"My father doesn't like me spending time with you. I'm sure he thought this would push you away from me,"
"Why? I haven't even met your father,"
"He needs me to focus,"
"On what?" she was exasperated.
"I can't tell you,"
"Butch,"
…
"They're called Xions,"
Bianca's hand was suddenly against her heart—she had read the report, just as her sisters had, but never had she imagined she would be seeing them any time soon.
They look just like humans…
They were looking at the androids through a double sided mirror, one that looked into a bare room with three visible black walls. In rows of 6 by 6, alternating between male and female, stood the Xions with their heads bowed. They looked exactly like they did on the poster, with the man muscular and the women looking like models.
"This is the default mode. They're meant to blend in with everyone else, but act as strict law enforcers when Rebels are found. They're still in development—every Monday night my brothers and I have to come into the training room to fight them. Each time they are defeated they grow stronger. My father wants them to become invincible,"
"You're okay with this? You do realize over half the world's population is rebels?"
He nodded stiffly, "I like to think I have a choice, sometimes. But in reality I don't," his voice was devoid of emotion.
"You aren't seriously letting this happen?" he didn't respond, "Well? Can't you do something? Fight them?"
He sighed, "No. The Xions are faster, stronger and crueller than I or anyone else ever could be. When they're ready, they would be able to kill me in seconds. I don't stand a chance,"
How on Earth are we supposed to stop these? She racked her brain, and the answer suddenly became obvious. Him.
"Why are you telling me this? Won't you get in huge trouble?"
He shrugged, "Because I choose you, Bianca. I pick you over it all. Honestly, ever since I met you I've been this different person…the feelings I have for you…I've never felt them before. I wasn't even sure I was capable of feeling this way. I know this is going to sound weird, but it's almost like you were madefor me. You're my better half, and I will fight for the right to choose you,"
I can't tell Beatrice about my powers. Not for a little while. I just need some more time with Butch. I just know I can get him to help me, I need the right moment.
She truly had no response to what he said to her—not one she was ready to share, anyway. So she instead wrapped her arms around his chest and allowed him to pull her in. They didn't kiss, merely embraced—she felt that that was what was needed then.
Hugging Butch with her guard down didn't feel as though she was hugging another person. It felt as though the two were merging as one. It was comfortable, and it made it easy to escape her current situation.
I'll figure something out later…
Author's Note: You asked for more romance...
MusaWCEB- Haha, oh no I would never! I was merely away, but I'm back now. Thanks for your review :)
