'The Second Time Around' Recap: After Buttercup's battle with Ace, she was healing faster than an average human, but still sustained a lot of damage- the hardest blow was to her confidence. Enter Mitch. He convinced her to try and see herself in a positive light. She was better than she was yesterday, that was all that mattered. Buttercup took on his advice and made a decision to become an active hero once again.
When the conversation between Buttercup and Mitch had calmed down, Bubbles entered the scene, and Buttercup made a careless comment that humiliated her sister. This pushed the girls further apart and Mitch advised Buttercup to get to know Bubbles so that respect could grow.
Buttercup dismissed this and Mitch left while she fell asleep on the couch, annoyed that both Bubbles and Mitch just didn't understand her.
Buttercup stared at the ceiling, blinking only when her eyes began to sting. She'd been slipping in and out of consciousness since four in the morning. And she felt like crap – inside and out. What had Mitch said last night? 'Rest up'?
He'd definitely jinxed her.
With a groan Buttercup hauled her body off the couch. She stumbled back when the front door swung open and swore as her heel smacked the coffee table.
A long, drawn out whistle caught her attention. "Who knew you could rock every colour?"
Ugh. Butch was obviously talking about her bruises, which from a quick glance at her arm, had every hue on the freaking rainbow: from dark purple to puke green.
Butch, on the other hand, looked fine. The only evidence of a struggle was a faint pink mark on his neck. It was a fine line that tapered off at each end, and Buttercup wondered exactly how deep the cut had been. But that wound wasn't the only new edition.
He was decked out in a grey top with thriller-esque slashes and a pair of neat black jeans stitched with a green hem line – obviously Bubble's handiwork.
"No reply? Don't tell me Ace's little beating humbled you," Butch said. "Are you just going to stare now?"
She scowled. "Well it's the first time I've seen you enter a place through a door instead of a wall— it surprised me." She replied, referring back to the days she could punch him through a concrete building.
He'd entered her house like he owned the place. Like he was allowed to come and go as he pleased. It didn't make sense. And then her sisters entered.
Blossom and Bubbles were dressed neatly in casual formal wear. Their outfits made Buttercup feel like she'd barged into a ballroom gala with her slasher Halloween costume; she was in the same beat up, tattered outfit she'd worn two days ago in her fight with Ace. "Was there a party I didn't know about? You'll have to excuse my outfit. I've been really busy these days with unconsciousness," she directed her comment at Blossom.
The red head hadn't visited her once. Instead, she'd sent Bubbles to convey her sympathy – like their rooms weren't a meter apart.
Blossom fixed her eyes on Buttercup. "You're healing well, that's good." She pulled off her blazer and folded it over her arm. "Listen Buttercup, there's been a lot of media attention since the fight with the Ganggreen gang. Everyone needs to know who saved Princess Morbucks."
She shrugged. "Just tell them it was the Puffs."
She glanced at Bubbles who was clothed in a dark blue collared dress. It was nice; no frills, roomy enough to run in. Buttercup was about to wonder aloud whether Blossom had suggested the outfit, but Bubbles hadn't looked her way once.
Which was fine by her. Neither of them would be missing out on much conversation anyway.
She re-focused on Blossom. "So that's where you guys have been? Speaking to the press?" Why take Butch along?
"Yes. Townsville Bulletin has been researching their story for the past few days. Yesterday they found an eye witness who recognised Butch at the scene." Blossom blew out a breath. "So you see, we couldn't just tell them it was a Powerpuff effort."
Buttercup's breath lodged in her throat. It couldn't get out that they were hiding – holding a Rowdyruff. "Well what did you tell them? You fixed this right?"
"Of course I did. They wanted to run the story tomorrow," Blossom tilted her chin up, "so we offered them a better one."
"Okay. Good. Great. " Buttercup rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She was suddenly feeling wired. "So that's sorted," she mumbled.
She needed a shower, had to get a run in too, and then maybe speak to Butch…
Sometime during the conversation he'd vanished. Probably crawled back into his basement lair to sulk about the press' suggestion that he was part of the Puffs. She couldn't blame him. 'Butch Jojo; the fourth Puff'- it made her skin crawl too.
Or maybe that was just Blossom's stare. Those pink eyes were contemplative yet firm. "You haven't done a single interview since you lost your powers. So they want you on for the nightly news."
Buttercup paused. She wasn't quite understanding… "No," she spat. "I'm not going to be dissected in front of a freaking camera. You don't get to decide that for me." Journalists never asked simple questions. It was always something personal, painful. They'd try to crack her open.
"You need to understand Buttercup, they couldn't run that piece." She glanced at Bubbles. "We're holding a former criminal without the Mayor's consent or knowledge. Even if we're not exposed for… bending the law a little, the people of Townsville will lose all trust in us. Think about it – there's a possible threat right under their noses, and we're keeping it quiet."
"You made that call Blossom. You put us in this situation! Instead of sending Butch away, you wanted to be clever. You wanted to use him. We can protect Townsville on our own," she ground out. "I was against this craziness from the start, but I'm the one paying for your shitty choices!"
Blossom's tone took on an edge. "You struggled against Ace – just one member of the Ganggreen gang. They're nothing compared to, let's say, Medusa, Mojo Jojo, Him. The choice I made concerning Butch, is the same as saving our lives. I'm doing my part to protect our family. Why are you finding it difficult to do the same?"
"Because I didn't ask for any of this!" She yelled, slamming her palm against the coffee table. It stung, it really did. But more than anything she wished it was Blossom she'd just hit. "If you're so damn eager to protect family, why don't you start by saving me from certain embarrassment?"
She hadn't asked for Blossom's 'protection', she hadn't even wanted to execute the plan, but she was the one who was going to be exposed. Just so no one would discover their lies – Blossom's lies.
Blossom's brow furrowed, ever so slightly, before smoothing out. "No one handles vulnerability well Buttercup, but we all have to encounter it. You'll be in and out of the station within a few hours." She paused. "They'll air tomorrow at 7pm, you'll need to be there by 5."
Buttercup was pissed; she knew there wasn't a way out of this. Thanks to Blossom, Townsville Bulletin would only take her.
"It'll be fi –"
"Save it." She strode upstairs, ignoring both sisters.
The water was scalding. Each drop stung the further it slid down her body; meeting a bruise or just searing sensitive skin. Still, she stood in the shower for 10 minutes more. Maybe she could wash away the moment she'd fought Ace. Or maybe she'd get lucky and drown standing up.
She could visualize the cameras, the lights, and the crowd of staff members. She'd done it all before. Back when she was an active hero with powers and a freaking fan base. But this time, it'd be as if she was on trial; explaining her absence; explaining her lack of action. It was humiliating. She didn't want to do that, and even if she did, it wasn't like anyone would understand.
She was Buttercup Utonium. She wasn't expected to feel insecure.
Townsville had loved her as one of three Powerpuffs. All her interviews had been as part of the group, so it's not like people really knew her. And she'd liked it that way. After all, the people closest to her didn't seem too fond— Blossom couldn't stand her, and Bubbles couldn't understand her – so Buttercup didn't expect Townsville to fall head over heels.
She wasn't going to open up and invite criticism. No one was going to tear her down when she'd just begun to accept herself.
Buttercup scrubbed her face with the palms of her hands until the sting became unbearable. It was decided. She'd keep her answers short and vague. She'd protect herself.
Buttercup blew out a breath and turned the faucet off. She stepped out feeling lighter. After a hot shower, for just a few seconds, nothing really seemed as bad. She threw on a black vest top and sweatpants, and headed down to the lab.
As her slippers hit the last step, Butch's movements slowed, but didn't stop. He was performing some type of shadow kickboxing routine. Dodging an enemy that only he could see. Punching an opponent only he could hit.
She'd like to say it was inspiring. That Butch had a certain finesse and purpose to his movements. But he didn't. All Buttercup saw was power and…rage. What did he have to be mad about?
It irritated her that someone like him had been the deciding factor in her fight with Ace. Without that super strength, Butch would be worse off than her. Still…
Butch cursed as his arm locked. It was clearly an overextended swing. "What?" He rasped.
She'd originally come to ask for a favour, she needed someone with powers as a sparring partner, but that tone made it bitter on her tongue. "Did you hear me speak?" she shot back.
He swiped at his sweaty forehead with an arm. When that didn't help, he pulled his shirt up as a makeshift towel. "You didn't need to say a word. You're standing in my field of vision – and I don't remember calling for an eyesore."
Buttercup blanched. "The hell did you just say?"
"You're an eyesore." When he lowered the shirt, his expression wavered between pissed and irritated. As if he wasn't quite sure if his anger was justified. "I heard the yelling. You're not doing the interview, right? So I guess your threats weren't empty." He gripped the edge of the table top, and the metal dented beneath his fingertips. "Brick's going to be here as soon as that story goes online."
"Get your facts straight. I'm doing the damn interview."
Butch's fingers stilled. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"Huh." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Guess I read you wrong."
She hadn't actually thought of the consequences Butch would face if he was exposed. In fact, she still wasn't clear on what those were. But now it looked as if she'd done him a huge favour.
Which meant she could gain something in return. "Apologies don't mean much when I'm putting myself out there." She paused. Maybe there was something better she could receive. Something other than just a sparring partner. If Blossom were here, she'd…she'd ask for information. "I want to know why I'm sticking my neck out for you. Why are you running from Brick?"
"Because he's chasing me," Butch said with a raised eyebrow.
Buttercup shot him an irritated look; this was why she disliked initiating conversations. Butch was always playing around. "Why is he chasing you, smartass?"
"Well," Butch hauled himself onto the lab counter. He spent so long shifting around that Buttercup suspected he was taking time to compose his emotions, rather than find a comfortable spot. "It's Brick. The guy has abandonment issues."
Buttercup fought the urge to roll her eyes. Would she have to drag each and every sentence out of him? "What the heck does that mean exactly?"
"Means he hates it when people leave. Means no one's allowed to leave." Butch spoke with a bored tone, but his entire posture was rigid. "He acted like he was some kind of big-time crime boss. He used me and Boomer however the hell he wanted, and was always saying the only way we'd leave is if he dragged out our bodies himself."
Buttercup was at a loss for words. She'd never heard of anyone so… messed up. It was like they weren't even related.
"That's pretty dark," Buttercup muttered. She wasn't good at comforting words. "How'd you get away?"
Butch leant back and shut his eyes. "I can be stealthy when I need to."
Buttercup let the silence pool around them.
She wondered what had happened to Boomer, and what power Brick possessed. But she didn't ask any more questions because Butch was trembling. Maybe he didn't notice himself, or maybe that's why he'd shut his eyes- he couldn't face her at the moment.
"Train with me. Your technique sucks, so I'll whip you into shape." It seemed like Butch was using the girls as much as they were using him. Both sides were human shields; Blossom wanted Butch to fight against difficult villains until the Puff's abilities improved, and Butch needed the Puffs as a smoke screen against Brick.
Now it made sense – why Butch backed down whenever Buttercup jumped up. He couldn't afford to lose them. What he didn't understand was that they couldn't afford to lose him either. Well, according to Blossom.
"Whip me?" Butch said with a snort. "Slow down there, we're not even on a first name basis Ballerina," his voice was weak, but his trembling had stopped. It was clear that he was trying to change the topic, but the joke only made Buttercup want to smack him upside the head.
"Look, are you in or what?" Buttercup snapped. It'd do her good to get some sparring in with a powered opponent. It was the entire reason she'd even come down to meet him.
"Sure, sure." He jumped off the table and pulled his vest off, heading towards the lab shower. "You can leave any second now."
"I don't need you to tell me that." She spun around and headed upstairs. The information she'd gained was really something she should share with the girls, but for whatever reason, she liked the fact that she knew more about Butch than anyone else.