Warning: Brutal battle ahead.
Buttercup stabbed at her ice cream; even on her day out, Butch was glued to her side. Bubbles and Blossom had volunteered to field test the Professor's latest battle suits, so here she was, babysitting Butch on an otherwise decent afternoon.
Butch leant back in his chair, and placed his heels on the edge of the table. She was glad they were the only two on the outdoor patio. "I realise you've been out of town for some years, but I'm pretty sure that basic manners apply everywhere," she snapped.
"I'm just soaking in the sunshine Ballerina." He made an idiotic hand motion, like he was wafting the rays toward himself. "Why so tense? Afraid of being seen with a Rowdyruff?"
"I just don't want to get kicked out of the only ice cream parlour in Townsville." She took a peek at his outfit. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans- they'd probably get kicked out just for darkening the atmosphere.
He glanced around while rocking in his chair. "I give it six months. This place is going under," he declared.
Buttercup grit her teeth. She was getting a headache.
He stopped rocking and rested an elbow on the table. He flashed Buttercup a grin. "Now that's an interesting expression."
"Yeah? It means 'keep shut'." She flicked her ice cream aside. "Look, nobody cares who you are or what you're doing here." The people of Townsville walked side-by-side with super heroes on a daily basis; they were desensitized to both the famous and infamous alike. "The Rowdyruffs are ancient. It's been six years; Townsville's seen worse."
His grin grew.
It felt like he was mocking her. "You're generic." She added. "There's nothing special about you to even catch anyone's eye."
He raised an eyebrow. "But I caught your attention just fine."
He was definitely mocking her. "Yeah. Meditating in the middle of a storm will do that." And it was difficult to glance past someone who'd once smacked you with a support beam.
Buttercup pushed her chair back and tossed some change onto the table. She'd lost her appetite. She should have known that an outing with Butch would be a waste of her time.
Buttercup stood and stuffed her hands into her pockets; she'd worn her good jeans for this? At least with Mitch in tow, she wouldn't have felt so overdressed in her green patterned tank top. The guy was always looking like he'd spent an extra hour in front of the mirror, even though his clothes were from charity stores. Huh, she guessed that was something Mitch and Bubbles had in common; an enviable affinity for fashion.
She walked a few miles but paused when she no longer heard footsteps. "What are you doing?" She called, turning around.
Butch was standing at the mouth of an alley. She was too far to see what he was staring at, but the sun cast shadows across the sidewalk. She counted four, no, five figures. She walked towards Butch. "Whatever you're thinking, forget it," she muttered. "Not our business."
But what she meant was, not her business. Not her fight. Not her loss. Buttercup couldn't save anyone; she couldn't be a hero anymore. She grabbed Butch's elbow.
He pulled his arm away. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"…Lets go already," but she was having difficulty hearing her own words. Her pulse was pounding like in the seconds before a fight, building towards a crescendo and muting everything out until she felt her head would explode. She didn't want this- she wasn't ready to lose a fight she would have once won.
"A Powerpuff?" came a male voice, "you're freaking kidding me."
It was the Ganggreen gang.
Buttercup peered into the alley. She stumbled back just as foot swung where her head had been.
"And it's the green one. You seem spunkier than the rumours suggest Buttercup." It was Ace. His shaggy hair was splayed around his face, locked into thick greasy tangles that sat on his shoulders. His lanky 7'9 frame was somewhat unnerving now that Buttercup wasn't able to reach his height— staring up was putting her stance off balance. She wouldn't be able to react fast enough.
Ace pulled off his shades. He had sunken, bloodshot eyes that darted between her and Butch. "Not going to introduce me Buttercup?" He grinned and used his shades as a pointer. "This your man? He know what he's gotten himself into?" He leant closer, his breath warming her cheek. Buttercup's skin crawled. "We have an unspoken rule, right? You and me? You don't bother us, and we don't come for you."
Buttercup willed herself to stand still. She made a show of peering behind the enormous presence that was Ace. At the back of the alley were his ring of rent-a thugs and what looked like a curly haired girl. Ginger locks and a face full of dirt hid her identity, but she was bound and slung over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes— it screamed hostage situation. The Ganggreen Gang weren't creative enough for much else.
"Sounds like you've become cocky since I've been off the scene Ace." She took a step back and poised on the balls of her feet. "You come for me and I'll break your jaw. That's the only 'agreement' we have." She hoped her display of confidence alone would scare them into good behaviour.
"Oh. That's a shame." Ace clicked his fingers and his rent-a-thugs vaulted over the wall at the back of the alley- ginger girl in tow.
Buttercup shot forward and Ace's nails dug into her shoulder. He flung her back and she stumbled into a hot dog cart. His nails left bloody welts on her shoulder.
"You know, for a while there it looked like you had this whole thing sorted Ballerina." Butch said, "I was worried I wouldn't get some action."
"Go after the girl!" she yelled.
"I don't know… It seems like a five second fight to me."
"Quit messing around Mr. Aspiring hero." She spat.
His grin wavered as he glanced between her and Ace. "Alright then," he said and ran towards the end of the alley, vaulting the wall with ease. For all she knew he wasn't even going to chase them. He could use the opportunity to escape, to commit a crime, to –
She lurched to the side as Ace's foot smacked the hot dog cart. This wasn't her place. She didn't have powers; there was nothing she could do.
Buttercup bounced forward, trying to get a hit in, but Ace had long limbs. His fist reached her before she could punch. His foot hit her before she could kick.
The funny thing was, even if Butch was in her place, she wouldn't feel capable of handling the gang of rent-a-thugs. She'd never felt more weak.
Ace slammed a fist into Buttercup's stomach and she stumbled back, her breath knocked out of her. "Why you'd come here when you have no powers...?" He cracked his elbow against Buttercup's temple. "This is what a fair fight is like, yeah Puff? You get it now? You're nothing special."
Buttercup was barely standing. The floor spun in front of her eyes and she felt something wet run down her forehead. A whimper escaped from her lips. How was she 'the toughest fighter'? Who came up with that stupid label? …Why? Her vision began to darken. Ah, right. It was because she could take hits. It was because she always hit back.
But she hadn't hit Ace.
Buttercup sucked her thumb between her teeth and bit until she tasted blood. She hadn't hit Ace.
"I promised you a broken jaw," she rasped, stepping forward. His fist skimmed her cheek. Before Ace could wind his arm back, Buttercup snapped her knee up, hitting him full in the gut. He cried out, she was so close that flecks of saliva splashed onto her shoulder. She clutched his head and swung her knee up again.
He absorbed the hit with the palm of his hands. "Blasted Powerpuff!"
Buttercup tried a high kick but he blocked it and lashed out, clawing at her eyes. She screamed, and swore, and stumbled. Colour exploded behind her eyelids and she wailed when the pain only focused with time. Buttercup grit her teeth and held back a sob. The bastard had scratched her with the same gnarled nails he probably used to pick his teeth clean.
She heard steps approaching, but couldn't open her eyes. She staggered backwards.
"Too slow," Ace sang. "I'm going to pay you back for every single punch Puff."
A fist struck her face, and Buttercup sputtered, her head snapping sideways. Another smacked her nose and the force flung her to the floor. Ace approached and snatched up a handful of her hair.
"Your sisters should find a new profession." He swept a finger along her neck and over the freshly formed bruises on her cheeks. "Your little group won't be the same with only two."
"Drop dead," she slurred.
Her scalp was stinging, and it felt like her hair was going to rip from its roots. She scratched at his hand, but his grip didn't loosen. Crap. She knew she couldn't have won this. She knew she wasn't capable. Why had she tried?
Ace's hand began to wrap around her throat. It was tightening – he was going to cut off her air, he was going to watch her flail around, and scratch at his hand, and dangle, until she just stopped moving altogether. He was going to – to –
Her family was going to find her.
This wasn't a fight she could lose.
Buttercup forced her body to calm, even as her mind flailed. Slowly, she reduced her movements, until she hung from his arm like a rag doll. But it wasn't working, he didn't think she was dead, he wasn't letting go, he was being too thorough – and then his grip loosened.
Buttercup grabbed his neck and latched her feet around his midriff. With a hoarse cry she slammed her forehead into his face.
Ace yelled and grabbed his bloody nose. Buttercup dropped to the ground, pulling his head down. She shot her knee up, again, and again, and again, until she heard a satisfying crunch. Ace fell to his knees spitting up blood.
Buttercup wasn't done.
"I owe you a broken jaw." Her nose was wrecked, her body was bruised, and she felt like she was about to throw up – but it was the best feeling in the world. Buttercup swung her foot back, "a present from the powerless Puffs."
"W-wait. Please," he spluttered through bloody lips. "Come on, it's over. Y-you win."
Buttercup froze. She just had to subdue him; not send him to prison in pieces…she really was out of practice. "Yeah… right, okay." Buttercup searched for her phone. "Looks like I'm tossing you behind bars once again Ace."
Buttercup was patting herself on her back when a hand grabbed her ankle. She looked down and Ace yanked.
She screamed and her head smacked the edge of the sidewalk. The darkness came quickly this time, threatening to swallow her consciousness. She saw Ace crawl away and heard someone yell her name. It sounded like Butch. But that was crazy, he'd never called her 'Buttercup'.
Hope you enjoyed it.