CHAPTER 23: TENSION IN THE WOLF PACK
ME: I promised an update on Halloween, so here's what you get.
BRICK: *raises eyebrow* No Halloween special fic this year?
ME: ...Maybe. I'll write a short little thing for tomorrow. *sighs* I'm so busy nowadays...
BLOSSOM: Balancing studies and hobbies is an important part of people's daily routines—
ME: Yeah, yeah. I know. So there's some fun drama this chapter. *waves arms* Whoooooo~
BOOMER: Okay...?
BUTCH: Kuku only owns her OC's and the story.
BRAKER: *grins* Trick or treat, people!
Chapter 23: Tension in the Wolf Pack
Eyes closed, he could feel his heart beating against his ribcage. Each beat felt painful, as if his heart was struggling to keep going. Something made him feel like there was a tear in his heart, and yet he couldn't remember what it was.
Taking a deep breath, he shifted so that he was in a more comfortable position. A certain darkness pressed against his eyelids, and he didn't bother opening them yet. He still felt sleepy, and every bone in his body ached. They ached from a hollow pain, but they weren't just physical. There was this underlying mental pain beneath it all.
He gripped himself tighter, resting his head against thin air. He could hear the trickling of water around him. The noise was soft and gentle, lulling him to sleep.
Despite that, there was another thing calling for him... Calling for him to wake up. It was a pleading cry, a gentle murmur, like a little prod in the side. He desperately wanted to approach the noise, yet he didn't wish to get up.
After a few more minutes of lonely silence, he finally opened his eyes. All around him was darkness. He was floating in thin air. Gently jumping down, he could feel his toes graze the floor underneath him. It rippled and felt like water. When he took a step forward, he could hear splashing.
A light was calling for him a little further off, and it attracted him like a moth to a flame. The boy could hear his heartbeat speeding up, although he didn't know why. A numb feeling had overcome him, and he couldn't seem to feel anything. He started to run toward the light. He didn't even feel the sensation of wind pressing against him as he ran. It was like his entire body had stopped feeling anything, and he was running on automatic.
When he reached the brightness, he skidded to a stop and shivered. A clear surface floated above the ground, facing him. A mirror, he noted. It was foggy and clouded over.
He reached out to touch the mirror, and his fingers went through it. A stinging sensation entered his body and he pulled back. He knew what this mirror was. It was his ticket home; it would help wake him up from his hazy dream. But there had been this weird pain that came with touching the mirror, and he knew it would hurt a lot more if he went through it completely. He didn't know how he knew; he just did. So the boy didn't want to enter, even though he could still hear the voice calling for him. It sounded shaky and scared.
He gazed into the mirror, eyes clouding over. Hazy memories of when he had still been awake danced around his brain. Everything seemed to surround a broken heart and burning flames. Yet he couldn't remember any more than that.
His reflection was a boy with a blank expression, and long red hair. Peculiar red eyes stared back at him. The boy blinked hard.
Just who am I really? What happened to me when I was still awake?
"Did you come back for more?" snarled Butch, glaring at Vix in front of him. He held up his hands, clenching them into fists. His fingernails dug into the soft flesh of his palms.
Vix held his hands up. "No."
"You lied to us," Blaster hissed, stepping forward menacingly. "You told us to leave our first hunting grounds. You trapped us!"
Vix seemed like he was trying not to laugh. This made the Rowdyruff Boys angry. "I didn't lie—for once. And shhh, don't let Danes hear you. We went to the first hunting grounds and you weren't there. Danes had Ross and I track you."
"Danes is here?" spat Bandit, eyes widening and then narrowing. "You little piece of—"
"Whoa, let's not say something we'll regret now," Vix interrupted, stroking one of the bats on his shoulder. "I'll tell ya what. I won't fight you boys tonight."
Butch didn't relax. "And why's that?"
"I thought you wanted to fight us," sneered Blaster.
Vix glanced back at Braker, who was still being held back. "Not today, I'm afraid. Today you have someone else who wants to talk with you."
"And who would that be—?" Butch didn't even get to finish talking when a loud squeal came from the bats on Vix's shoulders. The flapped their wings and swooped over the Ruffs' heads, disappearing from the cave.
Vix watched them go. "The poor little guys have been frightened off," he murmured.
"You said Ross and you tracked us. Where is the boy?"
"The poor kid's still not feeling well," Vix replied, leaning against the cave wall. "He decided to go home halfway through our trip here. He still doesn't know you boys have a slight rivalry with his family."
"I noticed," sneered Butch.
Bandit stepped forward. "Enough bullshit, Vix. If you're not fighting us, then who is?"
Vix took a step back. "See for yourselves." Behind him a giant shadow approached.
Butch's eyes widened. "Is that...who I think it is...?"
"Braker...! Get out of there!" screamed Boomer.
Braker turned around, meeting a cold gray gaze. He was too late to run, however. Something hard smashed into him and Braker was sent flying. He skidded along the ground and smashed into some rocks. Vix winced but watched with emotionless eyes.
"Braker!" shouted Butch. He spun around and snarled, ready to charge at the newcomer.
Bandit held his brother back, watching as the large newcomer removed their hood. Clear, stern gray eyes and long gray hair was revealed. The man was sturdy and dressed in a pressed uniform of sorts.
"...Danes," spat Boomer.
The large man glared back at them. "It seems that we have finally found you."
"Excuse me, but I think it's Vix who happens to find us. You guys suck at tracking," Butch sneered back.
Vix laughed, "I'm flattered, honestly."
"Enough talk." Danes crossed his arms. "You know what your crimes are. You six supported that filthy excuse of a human, Damon, when he went into hiding."
"Damon...wasn't...a filthy...excuse...of a human!" screeched Butch, losing it. He charged forward. Vix rushed forward and grabbed Butch, keeping him from slamming into Danes, and sending the large man crashing into the rocks. "When will you idiots realize that!?" Butch yelled.
"Butch!" shouted Bandit. He groaned and did a face-palm. I was afraid it would come to this...
Boomer rushed over to help Braker. The orange Ruff hadn't moved at all.
Danes walked over to Butch, who was still struggling against Vix. He stopped when he was inches from Butch's scowling face, bending down so that they met eyes. "Why are you still defending that low-life?"
"Damon was like a second father. None of you know what he was like!" Butch snapped back. He spun around and glared at Vix, eyes flashing. "Don't you remember those times, V!? Do they mean nothing to you!?"
Vix turned away, not meeting Butch's intense stare. "Those times are gone," he muttered.
Danes frowned, standing back up. "It looks like you don't realize what Damon has really done. He's done something unforgivable."
"Yeah, well I haven't forgotten what you did to him!" snapped Butch, swinging his leg forward and kicking Danes where the sun-don't-shine.
Danes bent over slightly, gritting his teeth but tried to ignore the pain. "Why you insolent little—"
"Danes," Vix said, his tone sharp and warning.
Sighing, Danes calmed down. "You know that what Damon did is despicable."
"It can't be much worse than what you've done," Butch sneered back.
Danes' eye twitched. "...He killed a man." Butch stopped struggling as Danes kept going: "He killed Ross' father. Do you know how much that event traumatized the poor boy?"
Butch bit his lip. "No...no, that's not true! Damon would never kill another man!" He turned to Vix. "Damon adopted you as his son after rescuing you from a car crash! Tell them, Vix! He wouldn't kill another person!"
"...It's true, Butch." Vix's long red hair fell into his eyes as shadows danced along his face. "Damon was a killer. He lied...to all of us."
"No...no..." Butch's gaze went blank and he suddenly slumped against Vix. The other Rowdyruff Boys remained in a stunned silence. Vix himself was trying hard not to let old feelings overtake him. Danes stood, eyes narrowed and arms crossed as he let this new information sink in.
Everything hurt.
The inside of the school was warm when Buttercup walked in. She stretched and managed to get the stiffness out of her joints. She hadn't slept well. Buttercup could still remember her dreams; they were vivid and fresh in her mind.
For some odd reason, she had dreamed that the world was burning. Butch and Vix had been there in the middle of it all, clashing like streaks of green and red.
Blossom stormed past her sister, and Buttercup was drawn out of her darker thoughts. The pink Puff had been silent the whole morning, despite finally coming out of her room. BC still hadn't gotten the chance to ask her what had happened between her and Brick.
Buttercup turned to Bubbles, who was watching Blossom go with a concerned look. "What do you think is wrong?" she asked, her blue eyes sad.
"I don't know," Buttercup replied, shaking her head.
"The bell's about to ring in five minutes," Banana remarked, taking her golden jacket off to reveal a stunning yellow dress. "We should get to class."
"See you guys later," Buttercup called as her sisters parted ways. She turned away and started to walk off too, but she didn't get far. Crashing into something stiff, she stumbled backwards with an "oof!"
"Sorry," a voice grunted.
Buttercup looked up to see jade-green eyes. "Butch!" she exclaimed.
"Hey."
She frowned. The green Rowdyruff didn't seem to be in a good mood. He was already walking away so she jogged to catch up. "Hey, Butch—I need to talk to you. Blossom went to your house last night, didn't she?" Butch stopped walking and Buttercup smashed into him again. "Goddammit that needs to stop—" she muttered under her breath.
"She did show up at our house. Why are you asking?" His tone was cool but seemed slightly icy and on-edge. Buttercup dismissed it as her over-thinking things. Butch started floating away again.
"Just wondering. And she wanted to talk to Brick right?" BC continued. Butch froze, and Buttercup bumped into him one last time. She was about to fall backward, but then he spun around and grabbed her by the shoulders...tight. "Ow, Butch; you're hurting me." Buttercup squirmed in his grip.
He didn't seem to hear her. "What do you know about last night?"
"Nothing, I just—"
"What do you know about last night!?" he yelled, shaking her hard. Buttercup was forced back into some lockers. A cold sweat trickled down her neck. Her eyes flickered back and forth; she could see students stopping and staring.
"Butch, calm down," she hissed. "I don't know about last night. I was just wondering—"
"Sometimes it's better not to wonder!" Butch snapped back.
"Jesus, Butch! Will you let me finish just one goddamn sentence!" Buttercup yelled, losing her temper. She kicked him in the leg...hard. "You asshole!"
Butch blinked, seeming to come out of his angry trance as he bent down in pain. "Wait—"
"You're making a scene!" Buttercup scolded him—well, okay; it was a bit more like yelling. "I was just asking if Blossom went to your house or not last night. What was with that big display of fucking screaming in my face and shit!?"
"Yes, I'm wondering about that too."
Buttercup's head snapped upwards as she met eyes with the strictest teacher around: Mr. Fickleson. "M-Mr. F..." she stammered.
"This looks to me like trouble, wouldn't you agree?" he rumbled in his gravelly voice. "A girl and a boy in the hallway—just a minute from class time—yelling and screaming at one another and using foul language."
"I swear to God this isn't what it looks like—"
"We've already established how swearing isn't a good thing, Ms. Utonium," warned Mr. Fickleson, his voice dripping with ice.
Buttercup stopped herself from saying any more.
"And Mr. Jojo, I believe we've established before what it means to control that temper of yours."
Butch shuffled his feet, his fingers tightening around Buttercup's shoulders. This time it wasn't a rough grip; more like an attempt at squeezing something to comfort himself. Buttercup didn't shake his hand off.
"Let go of the miss, please."
Blinking, Butch didn't seem to realize what Mr. Fickleson was saying at first. But when Mr. F coughed loudly, Butch let go of BC's shoulder.
Mr. Fickleson wasn't done lecturing yet: "Today at 3:55 exactly; you will both have detention. Understood?"
"...Yessir," both greens said at once.
"...Good." Then he spun around. "Now get to class before you're late."
Just as he said that, the bell rang.
"Hey, wait a sec! Can't you write our teachers a note to let them know why we're not on time?" Buttercup called.
"It's your own faults you're late," Mr. F responded over his shoulder as he disappeared.
Buttercup clenched her teeth as her fingers tightened into fists. "Dammit..."
"Buttercup..."
The green Puff remembered who was still with her (and why she was mad at him). Straightening, Buttercup sighed. "Save it, Jojo. See you in class." Then she flew off, leaving her green streak behind.
Butch watched her go, before sighing and flying off as well. I fucked up bad, he thought. But I can't get last night's events out of my head. I was worried Buttercup had spied on us and found out too much. That's a stupid thought though. She was just asking about Blossom; Bloss probably told her sister she was going to our house. Buttercup and the other Puffs wouldn't know about the rest of the night, with Vix...and Danes... And the "truth" about Damon...
Fuck I messed up. Butch groaned silently. His mind drifted back to the end of last night...:
"How is that possible?" mumbled Butch, eyes stretched wide. He was still limp, leaning against Vix. The older teen didn't shake Butch off.
Danes glanced at the cave walls. "Well, now you know. The man you trusted wasn't all sunshine-and-rainbows."
"No...it can't be true," Butch said, his voice rising an octave with each word. "You're lying!" At the end, he was screaming. "You're always lying to us!"
Butch felt someone grab him. "Butch, calm down!" The grip tightened, as if trying to offer comfort to both of them. Butch turned to see Bandit's sad look.
The green Ruff could feel his heart beating faster and his eyes stinging. "I just can't see why Damon would murder anyone..."
"It was out of jealousy," Danes stated matter-of-factly. "Damon liked S—"
Vix's head snapped upwards and he shot the man a look. "Don't," he mouthed. Danes seemed to understand because he stopped talking and kept the words to himself. This satisfied Vix—he knew that Danes' next few words would have involved telling too much too soon... Especially when it had to do with the death of Ross' dad, which still kept Ross' insides churning each night.
Instead, Danes said something else: "If you choose to believe me is up to you and you alone. But keep this in mind: if you still support Damon after knowing and believing this fact, then I will be forced to retaliate. As possible partners-in-crime to Damon, you are already in a fragile position. But if you openly support him after knowing the heinous act he committed..."
"How do we know if you're telling the truth?" Butch rasped, his throat hurting.
"You'll find out soon enough." Danes stood up straighter and brushed specks of dirt off of his uniform. "You will have to pay if you still wish to defend Damon and believe our story at the same time."
"With what?" challenged Bandit, narrowing his eyes.
"...You know what," snarled Danes, "don't ask stupid questions."
Vix felt his insides twist. He did know what Danes was implying: and everyone else did too. Even Maxim; a man Vix viewed as a fool, had known when he asked Danes earlier*.
"This is so unfair..." murmured Butch, closing his eyes.
Suddenly remembering that Butch was still leaning against him, Vix stepped back. Butch nearly fell over, his eyes snapping open as he looked around. When he met eyes with Vix, Vix said, "We're enemies now, remember?"
Danes thumped his fists together. "It's time to go," he commanded. He cast a sly look the Ruffs' way. "I promise you we don't yet know where your new hunting grounds are, so it's safe for you to stay here." There was a challenging look in his eyes before he turned away.
As Danes walked off, Bandit grabbed Vix. "So you didn't sell us out after all?"
"Hey, I may be a trickster and a liar, but a deal's a deal. And besides...it's not like I don't still care about you guys."
"Says the guy who beat up my brother." Butch wiped his eyes.
Vix raised an eyebrow. "Are you crying?"
"No!" snapped Butch. "I don't cry, dumbass. I just have some dirt in my eye."
"...Suuure," Vix said slowly. He could tell that this wasn't the time for jokes. Boomer and Blaster really did look upset, and as for Butch...well, he was denying it, but he was sad too. "I guess I better go then."
"Yeah...I guess you better." Bandit regained his cold look and stiff posture. "We don't need any more trouble tonight, thanks."
Vix nodded, smiling as he stepped backwards and slunk off into the shadows. But as soon as he was out of their view, his smirk vanished. He hadn't told them how much his heart hurt.
The memories of earlier that night clouded into Vix's brain. He clutched his shirt tighter, squeezing hard until it wrinkled in his grasp. His heart really did hurt. That one, stupid organ that made you feel useless, pathetic feelings.
Feelings that Vix used to feel so much. Fear, pain, heartache... Damon had taught him to embrace those emotions.
However, now that Damon was gone, there was nothing but a gaping hole where part of his heart should be. And that gaping hole hurt so much—it felt like it was bleeding everyday, constantly breaking and cracking. Vix spent a lot of the time picking up the pieces of his breaking heart, and he hated it. For once, Damon had been wrong.
Feelings sucked.
Sighing, Vix leaned back and closed his eyes. He could hear arguing in the other room.
"I'm just as good as Ross, if not better!"
Ah yes. Vix's eyes blinked open briefly as he recognized Michael's frustrated outcry. Vix had always known of how jealous Michael was of Ross. Ross, the young prodigy.
"Michael... Calm down..." Ross was trying to say.
"I'm totally calm!" snapped Michael.
Ross' tone wavered. "I'm not that good anyway—"
"Actually, yes you are."
Vix raised an eyebrow at Danes' cold, interrupting tone.
"You're my uncle! Why can't you ever root for me? All you do is train me but you never put me in missions!" Michael argued. "I could be as good as Ross!"
"Could be, but you're not." Danes' voice remained chilled. "Ross displays amazing talent while you display average talent. I am tapping into your talent as much as possible, but you have a lot of catching up to do. You're getting better, Michael—but don't get cocky. You're—"
"Not good enough, right?" snarled Michael.
Danes paused. "...Essentially, yes. You aren't there yet. You're not good enough yet."
Michael let out a frustrated shout, and then he smashed something. There was a loud noise as Michael most likely lashed out at Danes, losing his temper. A smack followed, and Vix figured that Danes had easily blocked whatever ballistic throw Michael had thrown.
Then there was silence for a long time. Vix gazed out the window as he counted the seconds. A full minute passed before anything happened.
Ross tried to say, "Michael, please don't get mad at your uncle. He doesn't mean—"
"I hate you, Uncle!" hissed Michael, and Vix heard a door slam. As Michael's footsteps disappeared down the hallway, Vix listened to Ross and Danes.
"Was that really necessary?" Ross' voice was exasperated.
"Michael is far too cocky. He must realize his place."
"But you're his uncle. Shouldn't you at least try and encourage him in a better way? I'm flattered to be the star child here, but Michael's strong too."
There was a sigh, and Vix wondered if Ross had actually gotten through to the big guy. He really is a "star child", Vix smirked to himself as Danes spoke: "Perhaps. Maybe I shall give it a try sometime, but as of right now, this conversation is over. Go to your room, Ross. It's late and you have school tomorrow. I myself am tired and will retire to bed soon. Good night, Ross."
A loud slam echoed through the hallway, indicating that Michael had entered his room.
"But—"
"Now, please."
Now it was Ross' turn to sigh before he trudged out of Danes' study. The door creaked shut behind him and he walked slowly. Vix saw Ross' shadow stop in front of his door. He could only see Ross' feet, but Ross' shadow extended into his room.
Vix waited for a knock or a call, but then Ross continued walking. The older teen sat back down on his blood-red bed.
But later on, there really was a knock on Vix's door. Vix opened one eye; he had fallen asleep. Grumbling to himself, he sat up and winced as his wounds started aching. At least they distract me from my heart, he told himself, checking the time. It was late now; he must've slept for an hour. It was 12:47.
"Come in," he yawned, stretching. The door opened and black shoes walked in. "Jeez, Ross. I saw you about to knock earlier. It's a little late for a visit now, don't you think? It's even worse 'cause you've already done this before at 2:00 am in the—"
A cough sounded. "Ah-hem."
Pausing, Vix turned around and his eyes widened briefly. But he recovered quickly, fully turning around and smirking. He raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, well; if it isn't Shamus? I'm flattered you've come to visit li'l ol' me."
Shamus, Ross' uncle, paused to give him a warning look. "I wish to speak with you."
The request caught Vix off-guard. Despite that, he held his ground. "So speak."
"...It's about Damon."
Buttercup curled her fingers into a fist and stared at her textbook. There was complete silence between her and Butch. Mr. Evan's class had become very awkward. She knew that she shouldn't have snapped at him before, but he was acting so strangely and rudely it had pissed her off.
She unfurled her fingers. On the other hand... Butch had been obviously thinking about something else when he'd lost it in the hallways. I wonder what it was?
The clock was ticking. There was three minutes until the bell. Buttercup desperately wanted the bell to ring now and save her from the awkwardness. The awkwardness that I created,a tiny voice in her head muttered.
Butch is at fault too! Another voice started to protest.
The first voice retorted quickly: He was obviously distracted and absent-minded!
Yeah, sure, whatever. But he was still an asshole, the second voice snapped.
"Shut up!" hissed Buttercup, trying to shove those thoughts out of her mind.
Butch's head snapped upwards and he stared at her, looking almost shocked and...hurt?
Swallowing, Buttercup bit her lip. Her face reddened. She hadn't meant to say anything out loud.
Butch's gaze bored into hers.
"Hey—" she tried.
He turned away quickly, holding his hands up. "I'm not saying anything. I don't want to say anything."
His words made Buttercup feel guilty. "Look, that's not what I—"
"I'm not speaking to you. Isn't that what you want?" Butch remarked snidely, folding his arms and turning away.
Buttercup felt her temper begin to boil. She tried to push it down. "Okay, seriously; I didn't mean for that to slip out."
"It doesn't matter. Thinking it would've been worse."
Rage she could no longer contain spilled out of her as she lost her patience. "I wasn't talking about you, you idiot!" she said, her voice rising.
Everyone in the room froze as people turned to stare at the two greens: Buttercup, glaring at Butch; and Butch, his back facing her but his eyes staring at her in surprise.
Mr. Evans stepped forward when no one spoke. He coughed loudly. "Excuse me, Ms. Utonium; Mr. Jojo... Is there anything you'd wish to say to the class?"
"...No," Buttercup replied, her face feeling like it was on fire.
"Really? It seems you two have a lot to talk—"
"There's nothing wrong!" Buttercup repeated, more sharply.
Mr. Evans backed down—he didn't want to deal with a student with a temper and superpowers, after all. "...Very well."
As for Butch, he turned so he fully faced BC. "Overreaction, much?" he asked.
"This is all your fault," she snapped back, folding her arms across her chest.
"Hey, I'm not the one who told anyone to shut up when they weren't saying anything!"
"For the last fucking time, I wasn't talking to you!"
"Oh really? Who else were you talking to then?"
Embarrassed to admit that she had told herself to shut up, Buttercup said nothing.
Butch scoffed, "See? I'm the only one who you could've been talking to."
"Yeah, well I'm not the one who had a spazz attack in the hallways! Like hell-o, what was up with that? Now we both have detention!"
"...That wasn't anything."
Buttercup narrowed her eyes. "'It wasn't anything'?" she repeated in disbelief. "That's the understatement of the year! You totally spazzed out."
"That's none of your business, okay!?"
"None of my—oh my God, Butch; of course it is! When a guy I know who isn't a random stranger yells at me and shit for no apparent reason and gets me in detention, I think I'd want to know what's going on! I think I deserve to know!"
"Maybe that's a sign that he doesn't want you to know and you should respect his privacy and fucking BACK OFF!?" Butch retorted.
Buttercup felt enraged by his comment. "Are you saying I can't mind my own business?"
"Well, it's pretty obvious you like to stick your nose in other people's lives!"
"I am not nosy!"
"Yeah, and I'm not Butch Jojo!"
"You're stupid, that's what you are! Stupid and paranoid!"
"Bitch, I am not paranoid!"
Buttercup ground her teeth together. "No one calls me 'bitch'!"
"Well, I can. So there you go, you BITCH!"
"Shut up!"
"Oh now look who's telling me to shut up...again!"
"For the last...goddamn...time, the first time DOESN'T COUNT!"
"Well you couldn't have been talking to yourself, could you!? That'd be stupid!"
Buttercup froze.
Butch stared at her, still feeling the rush from anger and frustration. "What's wrong with you now, y—"
"Please, you two; if there's anything you wish to argue—uhh, discuss—in private, then don't do it in class! Otherwise you can stand at the front and tell everyone here what you're so keen on talking to each other about! I could still hear you two arguing, and your voices kept rising! Please stop disrupting the class, or else you really will have to share witheveryone what's going on. And get detention." Mr. Evans took his glasses off and wiped them. "I don't think either of you would like that very much, now would you...?"
"...No," both greens managed to say.
"So apologize to each other and move on. And for the sake of class time, please be quiet."
Butch glared at the board as Mr. Evans turned away. He could still feel the rage churning in his belly, and it gave him energy. He was still mad about everything: Brick's injury, Vix's betrayal, Danes' news about Damon, the Puffs always prying into the Ruffs' lives, etc... Some of those things Butch knew he was more frustrated than mad about, but it felt good to take out those frustrations... Even if it was on Buttercup.
She deserves it though; she's been acting like a bitch all day, Butch told himself. His fiery temper and rage burned as his energy crackled. He still had plenty of energy to spend. The first argument had really riled him up.
Buttercup, however, suddenly felt all her energy evaporate, as she slumped back in her seat. "You don't know what you're talking about," she rasped.
"And maybe you don't either," Butch shot back, leaning back in his own chair and folding his arms.
Buttercup groaned at the second argument they had had in one day; another one that she had started. She rested her cheek against the cool surface of her desk.
Butch huffed and turned away. This isn't going so well, he noted, grumbling to himself. I can't seem to do anything but fuck up around her.
RIING!
Grabbing her bag, Buttercup hopped out of her chair and hurried out the door. She hated the thick tension that hung in the classroom, and it seemed thickest around her and Butch.
Floating to a stop at a cluster of lockers, Buttercup sighed and leaned against them. She raised her head and stared at the ceiling. She was so tired.
"Where's Brick?"
Buttercup's ears perked up when she heard Blossom's tentatively pleading voice. She peeked around the lockers and stared. Blossom was talking to Blaster, looking concerned. "I wanted to talk to him but he's not anywhere in school!"
"He's not feeling well." Blaster flipped his long blond hair aside and closed his eyes.
"How is he still sick? Is it bad? Does he need—?"
Sighing, Blaster stopped walking and cautiously tucked strands of blond hair behind his ear. Blossom bumped into him and he turned to her, saying, "Brick's the kind of guy who constantly overworks himself. That's the problem: he stressed himself out so much he got sick. Okay? So he's fine. He doesn't need anything. He just needs rest and needs to be left alone. That's all."
Buttercup was surprised to see that even sweet, always-smiling Blaster seemed to be on-edge.
Blossom frowned, looking down at the floor. "But...I'm worried," she whispered quietly. "I have this bad feeling and—"
"He's just stressed out. He works too hard without rest." Blaster lifted Blossom's face and managed to smile. "Don't worry about it."
Blossom nodded thankfully, but she still looked ruefully guilty. Buttercup knew why—she probably thought that Brick was stressed out partly thanks to Blossom's (and BC's) accidentally hateful text.
As Blossom and Blaster disappeared down the hall, Buttercup turned to walk away too. But she got a jump-scare when somebody just silently appeared in front of her. She let out a yelp.
"Ah, sorry," the person apologized, stepping back. He flipped back his curly brown hair, opening green eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Ross. You just sc—uhh, surprised me, is all," Buttercup breathed, relieved that it was just him. She gave him a suspicious look. "You're so quiet—I didn't hear you approach, even with super-hearing!"
Ross laughed, tossing his black-and-white striped scarf over his shoulder. "I tend to do that." He struck a martial arts pose. "I'm a ninja."
She rolled her eyes but laughed anyway. "Suuuure," she said.
"No, I'm serious! I'm actually from Japan and am part of this major prophecy. On some nights this curse turns me into a dragon! I go around the world collecting relics to undo the curse and fulfill my destiny. I have been training as a ninja since I was two; I've mastered over twenty martial arts!"
Buttercup let out a chuckle. "Yeah, and I'm a regular human being without any superpowers."
"Okay, so then maybe I'm a werewolf."
"Yeah, right! The ninja one was more believable—besides the dragon part, I mean." Buttercup smiled at him, punching him lightly.
He laughed back. "Okay, fine. What about...I'm a vampire?" He flashed a grin. "Look, I have sharper canines, and check this out"—he spun around, swinging his scarf like a cape—"I am Count Draaaacula!" He stopped spinning to do a dramatic diva pose. "Or I'm one of those sparkly vampires."
"That's not possible," said Buttercup teasingly.
"A sea monster than? A merman? A wolfman? A wizard? A warlock? What about a goblin? Dwarf? Elf? Do you believe me yet?"
Buttercup was laughing really hard by now, shaking her head. "Okay, what are you really?" she giggled.
"I guess none of those." Ross grinned; at this point he was also laughing. "Maybe I'm just plain, ordinary Ross."
"Yeah, maybe you are." Buttercup smiled.
"Just Ross—I like being me," he breathed, leaning in...
"You're a pretty good you," remarked Buttercup, gazing into his green eyes. Ross really wasn't so bad—his long brown hair fell so naturally into his face, and his eyes were a fiery green. He was nice too...
Ross smiled at her and she smiled back at him. They were quite close now...
RIIIIING!
Buttercup gasped, snapping out of her thoughts. "Class!" she cried.
"Oops," Ross stated, blushing red as he leaned back. He coughed awkwardly. "Sorry."
"It's okay." She managed to wave before flying off at supersonic speeds. She sped into the room, nearly tipping her chair over. Papers flew about and Mr. Davidson looked annoyed.
Butch sat nearby, his eyes looking like daggers. Buttercup wondered why he seemed even more mad at her now than he had been in Mr. Evans' class.
Shrugging, she turned to her work. She'd deal with Butch later—thanks to Ross, her mood had lifted a little. Buttercup remembered the awkward leaning in and blushed.
That didn't mean anything...right?
Butch was turning the corner when he heard laughing. Peeking out into the hallway, he could see someone smiling. He looked closer and found that it was Buttercup. He almost stepped forward and said hi, momentarily forgetting their earlier argument.
But then he managed to make out that it was two figures chatting happily. Buttercup...and Ross.
Irritation filled him—Butch had gotten over Ross, even making friends with the boy. Still, that didn't mean he was totally comfortable with Ross. The guy was clearly getting closer to Buttercup, and Butch just didn't trust anyone who knew Danes.
...Who knew Vix.
Butch bit his lip, watching Buttercup and Ross chat like two best friends who haven't seen each other in years. He was joking, and she found it funny. When he mentioned himself being a werewolf, vampire, sea monster, merman, and other creatures, Butch felt himself stiffen.
Narrowing his eyes, Butch let out a hiss. He wasn't a huge fan of jokes about monsters and other creatures. But that wasn't what bothered him—now Ross and Buttercup were leaning into each other. That made Butch uncomfortable for some reason. But he concluded that it was thanks to having to watch the two teens get closer and closer, knowing what might come next.
Not wanting to watch, Butch spun around and stormed off. Just in time too—the bell rang as he flew into his next class, a storm cloud above his head. When Buttercup appeared, he let out a snarl and glared at her.
When she only shrugged and turned away, Butch stared at the back of her head. Does she not fucking care anymore that she pissed me off? Jesus she can be such a bitch!
Still, something inside of him felt a little upset by the thought.
*(A/N: Reference to chapter 22!)
ME: I promised Butchercup, but I never said it would be happy Butchercup. *smirks*
BUTTERCUP: Oh screw you.
ME: *raises eyebrow* Wait, you actually wanted Butchercup?
BUTTERCUP: What...? NO! I was just saying that because...y'know; you messed with our heads and stuff... *blushes*
BUTCH: It's okay, BC. I love you too. *smirks, wiggles eyebrows suggestively*
BUTTERCUP: As if! *smacks Butch; storms off*
ME: Well, there's lots of drama this chapter. Is Damon a murderer despite his gentle appearance? Did I trick y'all with the fake promise of Butchercup?
BRAKER: Review and you get a treat! If not...you get a trick.
BLISS: What kind of "trick", Braker?
BRAKER: *smirks* You'll see; you'll see~