CHAPTER 29: CARELESS SHEEP IS WOLF FOOD

ME: Mmm, dinner.

BLOSSOM: ...That's one way to start the chapter; mentioning dinner...

ME: Yeah, well, even though I usually update on Saturdays, I thought Friday night would be nice.

BUBBLES: Yay for early updates!

ME: I only own my own OC's and the story! PPG belongs to Craig McCracken. In the meantime, excuse me as I go off to dinner...

BLASTER: Leave a review, please!

Chapter 29: Careless Sheep is Wolf Food

Sniffing the air, the scent of old smoke filled his lungs. He curled his lip back in disgust as he stepped on a twig that lay upon the floor; it snapping underneath his shoe. He didn't like coming back here if he could help it; it brought back memories that he never bothered to remember. The stench of rotting wood engulfed him, and for a moment he had to stop just to cough. He dug past the smells of smoke and rot, trying to find another scent. A fresher scent.

There.

Raising his head, he sniffed the air a couple of times. Once. Twice. He could still catch the whiff; it was faint, but it was there. The man stopped, his hand resting on a wooden wall. He let the other smells melt away as he focused on that one scent.

Blood. Fresh. One of them.

Then he opened his deep, stony gray eyes. "Coal!" he commanded.

The door to the cabin immediately opened as a tall male stuck his head in. "Yessir?"

"I caught his scent. He hid it well." Twisting his head to get a better feel of the smell, he met eyes with Coal. "Do you smell it?"

The male took a whiff of the air and paused. "Yes," he said.

"You know what to do. Track him."

"Yessir, Danes sir." The door closed behind Coal.

Danes stood there as he listened to Coal shout orders at the other guards. Then he sighed and sat down on an old chair. He let his eyes wash over the area: everything was as he had left it. As Damon had left it. Danes' lip curled back in disgust at the thought of the murderer's name. Just remembering those screamed sobs of a young Ross and the sight of his dead friend made Danes shudder angrily. He wanted Damon brought to justice—and that extended to everyone who supported him, which included the Rowdyruff Boys.

And Boomer—the blue Ruff had for some reason had infiltrated Damon's old cabin after years of abandonment. Danes had thought the Ruffs were smarter than that...although, Boomer never had been the sharpest tool in the box. Danes wondered what Boomer had come back for, and what he was planning. If it involved clearing Damon's name, that would be impossible. All the evidence was against Damon.

Danes let his anger toward Damon boil. Taking a deep breath, the man closed his eyes. Thinking about why Boomer had come back kept Danes' anger at Damon within him. You think you can hide from me, you Rowdyruffs. But you cannot. I'll find you. I'll always find you.He opened his eyes and shouted, "Double the security here! Keep this place surrounded. No one else is sneaking in on my watch. If any of the Ruffs return here, we will intercept them and talk reason into their stubborn heads and make them realize that Damon is guilty."

"Sir yes sir!"

Danes relaxed. It was always nice to have practically an army right at his fingertips. He narrowed his eyes, his expression dark. Those Ruffs will have to listen to reason. Or else...they won't stand a chance.

"Brick, who is this?" Bandit repeated calmly. His tone was still thin, however, exasperated and almost impatient. He kept his finger pointed at Butch, who looked sullen from his seat across from Brick.

Brick tilted his head to one side, furrowing his brow. He opened his mouth and then closed it.

Bandit held back a groan. "Brick—"

"Butcher, right?" Brick finally guessed.

Shooting the sulking Butch in a chair a helpless look, Bandit shook his head. "Try again," he said, struggling to sound calm. "You were close this time."

"Butcher... Butch..." Brick paused, before his face brightened. "Butch, isn't it? That's Butch!"

"Yes! Thank you." Bandit felt relieved, but the relief was short-lived. He knew Brick only remembered because they had told him earlier; not because his memories were coming back. Even if they were, one small memory wouldn't prove anything.

"Was that okay?" Brick blinked innocently. "You seem upset. Did I say something wrong?"

"That was fine, thank you." Bandit nodded, trying to sound cheerful. "Congrats," he added—it came out in a scratchy choke.

"Thank you!" Brick smiled.

"This is creepy, dude," Braker whispered to Bandit from his seat beside the purple Ruff. "Brick being so cheerful. It's scary."

Bandit nudged Braker sharply in the ribs. "Let's try again, Brick. Who's this?" Bandit pointed at Braker, who managed to grin a sheepish smile as he rubbed his aching side.

"I heard you call him an idiot earlier on," Brick stated, clearly thinking. "But that's not his name, is it?"

Braker coughed loudly. "I'd hope not."

"Wasn't it something like Bracken?"

Bandit and Braker shared exasperated glances. Braker spoke: "I'm totally named after a plant."

"So I was right?" asked Brick.

Clueless Brick is clueless, Braker thought. He cleared his throat. He paused. He cleared his throat again. He—

Bandit kicked him in the shin.

So, grumbling to himself, Braker finally said what he had wanted to say earlier: "Actually, my name's Braker. I was...being sarcastic."

"Oh I see. What kind of name is Braker?" Brick inquired curiously.

Braker nearly fell out of his chair in exasperation. "It's my kind of name," he said firmly, his voice dry. He forced himself to smile, despite his frustration.

Bandit nodded. "After all, your name is Brick of all things."

"That doesn't sound very common. Is it?" Brick gave them a questioning look. "Maybe I should change to a different n—"

"No!" Bandit interrupted a little too quickly. When Brick gave him a funny look, Bandit smiled sheepishly. "I mean...it would be harder for you to remember that way, since there'd be two sets of names. Besides, us RRB have always had unique names."

"I see." Brick nodded thoughtfully.

Bandit forced his shoulders to lie flat as he breathed out a sigh of relief. He had yet to explain to Brick about what the Rowdyruff Boys really were; team of super-powered beings. He knew how much confusion it would cause the amnesiac Brick; confusion and trouble that Bandit currently didn't want to deal with.

A harsh, scraping noise sounded just then. It was Butch standing up from his chair. "I'm going to my room," he muttered.

"Butch, wait—!" Bandit tried.

"I have work to do." Butch glanced back at a cheerful Brick talking to a tired but still smiling Braker. He let out a disapproving snort before storming upstairs.

Braker looked up. "What's his problem?"

"He misses the old Brick," Bandit mused thoughtfully, his eye trained on the stairs.

Brick looked up, looking a little disheartened by this statement. "Does that mean he doesn't like the new Brick?"

Bandit hesitated, before placing a hand on Brick's head and patting it affectionately. "Nah. He just has to get used to the new you. Besides, you're getting your memories back. Slowly, but surely. I'll be here to help you out."

Brick smiled. "Thank you."

Bandit felt surprise, before he released his hand and managed to smile back. "You're welcome." But as soon as Brick turned away, the purple Ruff's expression fell. He glanced at Braker, who looked just as weak and exposed.

All of a sudden, a slam echoed through the house and a frustrated cry followed. Bandit's reaction was flying up the stairs immediately. Braker was close behind, but fell back when he had to remind Brick that he could walk faster than a normal human. Although, Braker didn't bring up Brick's superpowers yet.

Bandit stopped in front of the culprit's dark-blue door. It was Boomer, which struck Bandit as odd. Since when did Boomer throw temper tantrums? Pushing the door open, Bandit stepped inside. "Booms? What are you doing?"

A silhouetted figure sat in the dark, lit up only by a small light from a lamp. The person was madly flipping through pages of some kind, letting out nervous noises every now and then.

"Boomer!" repeated Bandit impatiently as Braker and Brick finally caught up. "What are you doing?"

The blond Ruff looked up, squinting at the sudden brightness from the open door. Boomer let out a small alarmed hiss at the intrusion, before he relaxed. "I'm just organizing some stuff."

"You're Boomer. You don't organize." Bandit reached Boomer. "What are you really doing?"

The blue Ruff clearly hesitated before he sighed. "Okay, fine. You got me: I found something important today."

"What is it?" His curiosity peaked, Bandit leaned forward.

His brother sighed, blue eyes tired as he held the item up. "It's his journal."

"What's so special about a—oh my God. Is that...?"

Nodding, Boomer set the fragile thing back down. "It's Damon's old journal. The one he always wrote in and would never show anyone."

Bandit nearly forgot to breathe right there. Forcing air through his lungs, his mind tried to wrap around the concept of having such an important item in their possession. Then his mind settled on a horrible thought and he snapped his gaze upwards. "Where did you get this?" he asked sharply.

Boomer hesitated as he avoided the others' eyes. "Look, don't get mad at me; it had to be done. I went back there, guys. I went back to our old 'second home'."

"Danes will realize you were there," Bandit countered.

"I know. But he doesn't know about the second door leading to Damon's study. I hid it just as well as it used to be hidden." Boomer hugged the journal close to his chest. "Please understand."

"Okay." Bandit took a deep, long breath. "What have you found?"

"I've found a few interesting entries. The ones that are really exciting are the ones from when he was still...friends with Danes and his people." Boomer opened to a page and started reading:

"'March 23'—the year is smudged—

'Today Danes decided that it would be quite a splendid idea if we rode horseback through the dangerous territory of the forest. Sylvie begged us not to go, bless that sweet heart of hers, but Danes insisted. In an attempt to persuade us, he convinced us that it would most impress Sylvie by the end of it all. I hate to admit it, but I was swayed as soon as he mentioned her sweet name. Just the image of her smile motivates me to do even the most stupid of things, which is indeed quite questionable as it pushes my reasonable sense aside.

Strangely enough, Tyrone seemed quite eager as well when Sylvie was mentioned, though I always thought he viewed her only as a little sister of sorts. While this sort of behaviour makes me question his words about how he holds no romantic feelings toward Sylvie, I will try to suppress it for the sake of our friendship. There is no reason to make a mountain out of a molehill. Tyrone has always known how Shamus and I feel about Sylvie.

Speaking of Shamus, the poor man was clearly terrified at the idea of riding horseback through the forest without any real protection. He's always been the worrisome sort, as you probably know already. He kept going on and on about the dangers that would await us while Danes only rolled his eyes impatiently. Shamus was ultimately convinced as well when Sylvie was brought up, seeing as he has quite a few feelings toward her. His poor shyness always gets in the way of his attempts to serenade and attract her. This does work in my favour, while I hate to be the selfish one and admit it.

Sure enough, however, as soon as we reached the forest many a mess followed. It was fun at first, all of us laughing and cheering as we rode through like gallant knights or roguish thieves. Things still turned a little sour though, when poor Shamus was startled by a bat and toppled into the river. He was nearly swept away by the swirling currents, but Danes played hero and jumped in after his friend. Tyrone and I both followed. Together we quickly caught up to Shamus and managed to pull him out of the water. He was spluttering and shivering as he lay on the bank.

After we managed to clear his throat of all that freshwater, Shamus cracked open one eye and managed to say wearily, "Next time you have a so-called 'good idea', Danes; remind me not to join in." You cannot imagine our relief and laughter as we helped him up. When asked about his accident, Shamus admitted that it was actually rather exhilarating. Perhaps he is going to get over his skittish nature.

While Tyrone and I shared good-natured jokes on the way home, I will admit that my jealousy wiggled its way into my stomach again when we reached Danes' mansion. Sylvie was there waiting for us, clearly worried and angry that we had not listened to her. Despite this, she could not stay mad at any of us and took Shamus back inside to be checked over for any wounds, while he insisted shyly that he felt quite fine. My jealousy came in when she rushed forward and hugged Tyrone first, but since he has been like a big brother to her, I feel that it was expected. They've never felt awkward about that sort of thing. Besides, Tyrone was indeed the first to arrive and was thus closest to her when we caught up.

I will try to rid myself of this feeling as soon as possible. Tyrone is my best friend, and practically a brother. While not blood-brothers, we are close enough to be such. He has been there for me since our different sides stopped feuding years ago and our families met. Tyrone is the big brother type, and instantly seemed to take a liking to me. I admired him for his upbeat and happy demeanour, leading us to play and grow up together. If I do not wish to ruin such a relationship, I cannot let a girl get between us.

Sylvie is beautiful indeed, but Tyrone has always expressed interest in the older girls around his own age. Still, he and Sylvie are quite close. I shall have to wait and see what happens; hopefully the signs will show me that they are in fact still just acting like sister and brother, rather than lovers.

I do hope Sylvie will see my feelings for her soon.

Signed,

Damon'"

Boomer closed the journal and sighed unhappily. "Poor Damon; he decided to wait things out. Then look what happens in the future: Sylvie and Tyrone eventually got married. It looks like Damon's hopes were shattered and he went crazy. Plus, he mentions that he'd do anything for her—even lose common sense in the process." Sadly gazing at his brothers, Boomer murmured, "It looks like all the signs are pointing toward the fact that he had reason to kill Tyrone after all."

"No!" exclaimed Bandit. "There has to be more entries that can prove his innocence. Damon wouldn't do that kind of thing!"

Boomer flipped through the book, saddened. "There are still pages missing, Bandit. We'd have to go back to cabin and look for more. There are also words in entries smudged or washed away from age. The readable entries are not always very important either. So it's hard to add things up."

Despite his usually reasonable and rational personality, Bandit felt desperation take its course: "Then so be it! We need all the help we can get."

"Say what now? Have you gone insane?" Braker shot Bandit a sharp look.

Bandit felt his voice rise just slightly. "If we don't prove his innocence and yet still continue to support him, then Danes will come after us!"

Boomer thought back to Ross' friendly personality. "Plus," he added softly, "I don't want Ross to hate me forever."

"Then it's settled. We prove Damon's innocent."

Braker's eyes darkened. "And if we can't?"

Sighing, Bandit closed his tired eyes. "Then we come to a deal with Danes and make him realize that we no longer support Damon." He clenched his teeth and tightened his fists. "That we realize how much of a 'monster' Damon was."

Braker looked away, his gaze still dark. "And for now...?" he pressed.

"We lay low." Bandit relaxed his grip, feeling his nails being released from his palms. "Don't directly claim you trust Damon."

"...Dude, Butch isn't going to like that." Braker shot his brother an expectant look.

"I know. But he'll just have to live with it." Bandit's own gaze was even as he replied, although he felt like he was crumbling inside.

Silence followed, as Boomer studied more pages. Finally, Brick said, "I smell pie. Who wants pie?"

Buttercup was about ready to scream. Terrifying and sad silence seemed to fill the entire room, as the Powerpuff Girls poked and prodded at their food. Time ticked by slowly on the clock, and the Professor seemed gravely tired. He had gone to pick the dejected girls up, telling them that Mojo and Him had informed him of Brick's amnesia. Sensing the girls' sadness, the Professor promised that he and Mojo were working on a cure to help bring back Brick's memories.

Now the family sat together at the dinner table, the usually tempting food looking very unappetizing at the moment. Curry with rice sat on one side of the plate, with broccoli and carrots beside it. The veggies were slowly growing cold. A large bowl of meat sat at the centre of the table.

Finally, Blossom stood up. "I'm full," she said softly, as if scared to break the silence.

Bubbles stood up as well. "Yeah, the food doesn't taste all that good today," she agreed dejectedly.

"No... No, that's not it—your cooking's delicious..." Blossom seemed distracted.

"Don't even try and comfort me, Bloss." Bubbles shook her head wildly as tears slipped down her cheeks. She slid the food on her plate into the garbage can and dumped it into the sink. Then she rushed upstairs, crying.

Bloss gave her family a desperate look, and Buttercup took charge. "You're not throwing out your food as well. Sit down and finish eating."

"But—"

"Now," Buttercup enforced firmly.

Sighing, Blossom sat back down and reluctantly began eating again.

Bliss, even in her saddened state, was still a fast eater. She finished her plate and her chicken wings. "I'll go talk to Bubbles," she promised.

Nodding thankfully, Buttercup turned back to her own meal.

The Professor cleared his throat. "I'm sorry that such awful news had to happen, girls. Brick is an important asset to the team, and he deserves all the help we can give him."

Banana and Bunny exchanged glances. The yellow Puff spoke up, saying, "I'll make a basket of cookies to send to the Ruffs. Maybe I'll put a pie in it."

"Thank you, Banana. We need to stick together during such a time." The Professor nodded.

"I'll help," Bunny added softly.

Meanwhile, Bliss had reached the top of the stairs and was floating quietly to Bubbles' room. She stared at the baby-blue door, hesitating. Bliss sighed as she raised her fist and finally knocked.

"What?" a choked response came out of the room, shaky and upset.

"It's me; Bliss," the orange Powerpuff explained carefully. "I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?"

Sniffling, a sigh, and a shaky breath. Then..."I'm fine." More sniffling.

"Are you sure?" Bliss pushed the door open and stared at her crestfallen sister. Bubbles was sitting on her fluffy blue bed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she wiped at her face desperately.

"I'm fine," hiccuped Bubbles.

"And I'm not so sure about that." Bliss sat down beside Bubbles, putting an arm around the girl. "You're worried, and that's completely normal. Brick has amnesia. The Ruffs are clearly upset. They're also clearly hiding things. Buttercup seems to know more than she's letting on. And you... You and Boomer had a disagreement, didn't you? Over Sidney? It may not have been a very direct disagreement, but it was still a disagreement." Bliss turned Bubbles so that they faced each other. "I'm asking you again," she began slowly, "are you okay?"

"...No," Bubbles finally answered. Her shoulders slumped as she seemed to be relieved to get the weight off of her chest. Then the tears started pouring out like a waterfall, with her wailing a loud "NO!" as Bliss comforted her.

"Shhh, it's okay. Shhh." Bliss patted her sister gently on the back. Her tone was soothing. "I know it's hard, but you need to hold your head up high."

"It's just... I can't believe Boomer and I had a little...spat over Sidney and—and yet, now Brick's got a-amnesia"—here Bubbles started bawling even more at the thought of Brick's condition—"and I've been s-such a selfish person for g-getting upset over Boomer's feelings about...Sidney! I mean, Sid's so sweet and cute, but... If Boomer wasn't m-mad at me, I'd offer him my comfort..."

Bliss sighed gently, rubbing her sister's back. "I'm sure Boomer's not angry with you. Even if he was, I'm also sure he'd push that anger aside during such a time of crisis. Boomer's not the type to hold a grudge."

Bubbles looked up hopefully, teary blue eyes wide. "Y-You mean it?" she mumbled.

"I do." Bliss nodded. "You two are such good...friends, after all." She stood up, gently pulling Bubbles upwards as well. "Now let's to back downstairs; the whole family is worried about you."

"...Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Downstairs, Buttercup was clearing the dishes. "If we have any problems, we talk to each other about it," she announced firmly.

Blossom nodded solemnly, her shoulders slumping. "Okay," she agreed softly, her eyes glazed over. She looked as fragile as glass, as if she may just fall and shatter.

"I'll be going now," Banana said, buttoning up her yellow-and-white coat. She picked up a basket of treats. "Bye, everyone."

"Bye," Buttercup called.

Bunny waved before following Banana out the door. It shut with a soft click as the family descended back into silence. Then Bubbles and Bliss appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Welcome back," Buttercup stated, setting down the plate in the sink. She put down the towel and spread her arms out wide.

"Buttercup..." Her lip quivering, Bubbles blinked hard as she tried to hold back more tears. But then she overflowed like a broken dam; tears streaming down her cheeks as she let out a cry and rushed forward. She nearly tackled Buttercup into the stove behind them, but BC was ready.

She had braced herself, and after the impact she relaxed. "Shhh, it's all going to be okay," she promised softly, hugging Bubbles back as the blue Puff cried in her arms. Bliss and Blossom shared glances as the Professor turned away, a sad look on his face.

Bubbles was shaking hard against her body, still sniffling. "BC... I hope Brick's okay."

Buttercup's expression blanked as she stared at the wall. "Me too, Bubbles, me too."

Butch was busy trying to do his homework (keyword is trying), when suddenly the doorbell rang. It pierced the house's abnormally dreary atmosphere, causing Butch to jump slightly. The shrill ringing continued, and as no one went to answer it, Butch grumbled to himself before flying for it.

He stopped in front of the door and quickly checked who it was through glass panels. It was Banana and Bunny. Holding back a sigh, Butch unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Hello."

"Hi, Butch." Banana looked as tired as Butch felt; her usual soft hair seemed a little messy. "Is Brick here?"

Butch hesitated, but looking into the two girls' eyes... He knew he couldn't keep turning them away. "He's here," he sighed.

"We...We wanted to give him a present," Bunny explained softly, looking as shy as ever.

He raised an eyebrow, finally smelling the food. "It smells delicious."

Banana took a step forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. "You guys can eat as much as you want. Now, may we please come inside?"

"Sure, I guess." Butch stepped aside and let the girls in. He wondered if he'd get in any trouble with Bandit. Butch shook it off and nodded at the kitchen. "Just set it on the table."

As Banana put the basket down on the kitchen table, Bunny remained rooted at the stairs. She and Butch stood awkwardly, not looking at one another. The awkwardness would've stretched on had it not been for a pounding of steps rushing downstairs.

A cry of, "Brick, wait!" followed the running.

The red Ruff was indeed now close to the foot of the stairs, still running down. He suddenly tripped and rolled forward, before he crashed straight into a shocked Bunny, causing both of them to fall over. Her muffled shriek filled the house.

Bandit appeared at the top of the stairs, panting. "Did I hear...a girl?" He first saw Butch, sending his brother a questioning look.

"I wasn't the one who screamed, if that's what you're wondering," Butch responded with a shake of his head. He pointed at the two people piled together on the floor. "It was her."

Bunny was struggling to sit up, gently helping Brick up as well. Her soft purple eyes seemed to still be slightly shocked from the impact. Banana rushed in. "Buns, are you okay?!"

"Buns?" repeated Bandit in shock as he swivelled his head to stare at the two people on the floor. He locked eyes with Bunny, who blinked and blushed.

"What's going on?" demanded Braker.

"Is everything okay?" added Boomer, his eyes wide.

"They came in to give Brick a present," Butch answered promptly. He prepared himself for a scolding about letting them in, but everyone was suddenly drawn to Brick.

He looked up at Bunny. "I'm sorry," he began.

"Oh no; it's okay. I—"

"You're very pretty. I like your hair. And your eyes. I think I like you." Brick's tone was completely sincere.

Bunny's eyes widened in surprise as she flushed a deep shade of red. It looked like steam was fading into the air. "Wh-What?" she stammered.

Bandit's own face heated up. He quickly flew down the stairs and hurried over to the two people. He grabbed Bunny's arm and nearly yanked her upwards. For some reason, he had felt a weird sensation when he heard that.

"Ow, Bandit—you're hurting me," Bunny exclaimed softly, her eyes wide.

Bandit let go and helped Brick up, feeling embarrassed. He couldn't meet Bunny's gaze. "Sorry," he muttered. "Brick, do you remember Bunny?" he asked sharply.

"Bunny...? Wow, even your name is sweet." Brick smiled kindly before turning to Banana. "And you are...?"

"My name is Banana," she replied calmly.

Brick rolled the name over in his tongue as he tested it out: "Banana... Banana; I do believe it feels quite familiar." He blinked and smiled again. "You're very pretty yourself. I love your sense of style."

"Thank you." Banana's face warmed as she made herself smile back.

Butch felt amusement tickle his insides, but he walked over and gripped Brick's shoulders. "Our friends here have dropped off a present for you," he announced. "Go check it out; get Blaster to stay with you, okay?"

"Okay." Brick nodded and walked off. "Thank you! I smelled the pie you baked from upstairs," he called over his shoulder at the two girls.

Butch watched him go, before turning back to the others. "Alright, now that that's settled..."

"Hold on. How'd he smell the pie? The scent isn't strong thanks to the cold night air, and we were downstairs." Banana raised an eyebrow.

"He has amnesia. Who knows what that's done to his powers. So he's got a good nose." Butch shrugged.

Banana narrowed her eyes but didn't press further. "Well, I guess we should go now."

"Yes, perhaps you should," Braker agreed. He glanced at an uncomfortable Bandit.

"I'll just speak to Blaster quickly before I go." Banana tossed her long, low pigtails over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen.

Bunny looked up. "Umm..." she began.

"I got work to do." Butch held his hands up and began his float upstairs. "Have fun chatting with Bandit..."—he shot his other two brothers a look—"and Boomer and Braker."

Braker raised an eyebrow before he rolled his eyes. "Actually, I gotta go too." He followed Butch back up the stairs.

"Me too," echoed Boomer, "I uh...have to draw some stuff." He awkwardly clambered upstairs.

Bunny was left alone with Bandit, and she could feel the words disappear from her throat almost immediately. She licked her dry lips as her eyes trailed to the floor. "Well..."

"So..." Bandit scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, averting his gaze. He coughed.

"Yeah, so umm..." Bunny's mind was blank.

Bandit sighed. "Sorry...about that. I mean, gripping you too hard."

"Ah, no worries. You're...obviously under a lot of stress," replied Bunny.

"Not just stress. I'm actually..." Bandit stopped. "I mean, I..."

Bunny looked up and met his eyes. She had a feeling she knew why Bandit was suddenly so uncomfortable: he wanted to say something but couldn't. "I won't tell anyone, I promise," she encouraged. "So you can tell me."

"...Thanks, BunBun. I guess it's just that...I'm a little scared. Of the leadership role, I mean. I could screw this up so bad and make everything worse than it already is." Bandit's body quivered. "Blossom's already offered her consolation, and yet, I'm still worried."

Bunny tilted her head to one side. "I know you can do it, Bandy. You always do."

"But how?" he countered, still not meeting her gaze. He felt something wet prickle the back of his eyelids. "I'm not sure I can do anything this time."

"Don't doubt yourself," Bunny whispered softly, stepping forward. She crossed the room in a few quick strides and reached her arm toward him. Bandit stared in surprise, wondering what she was about to do. Then he felt a slight squeeze as Bunny's arms wrapped around him. "You can do this. I'm right here for you; everyone is."

Bandit's surprise faded into gratitude as something warm filled his entire body; something even warmer than what he'd felt after Blossom and Buttercup comforted him. He smiled and rested his head against the top of hers. "...Thank you so much, Bunny," he whispered.

"Bunny, we should probably—oh."

Jumping apart, Bunny's face was a flaming red as her bangs covered her eyes. "B-B-Banana!" she spluttered.

Her yellow-eyed sister's shock turned into an amused smile. "Well now; I chose a nice moment to walk in on."

"It wasn't like that," Bandit protested quickly.

"Then what was it like?" challenged Banana, placing her hands on her hips.

Bandit watched Bunny blush even more and turn away. He cleared his throat, trying to decide just what it really was. A hug between friends? Or something more? Unable to reach a conclusion, Bandit's reply was weak: "It was just...comfort."

"Okay. If you say so." Banana's smile spread wider as she realized that Bandit actually didn't have a real excuse for hugging Bunny besides sharing a romantic moment. She twirled her hair around her finger. "But now Blaster and I are done talking so I'm ready to go. Unless Bunny would like to spend more time with you, we should—"

Bandit coughed loudly. "It was just a hug for comfort," he said, recovering his firm personality. "Now, thank you for visiting and sending your regards along with a gift. But we have a long day ahead of us and I believe it is time for you to go."

Banana shared a look with Bunny. "There's no need to be rude about it," she replied calmly, before whisking away and exiting the house. "Good luck with Brick," she added as she put on her shoes.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks again." Bandit watched Bunny slip on her own boots and slowly walk out the door. "Bunny..." he tried. She looked up, her face still red and her eyes still hidden behind long brown bangs. Bandit hesitated at her suddenly shy and terrified expression, lowering his hand. "I... Never mind."

She nodded and turned away, walking out before closing the door. Bandit stared at the door for a few seconds, but then he slumped and sighed. I had wanted to ask what the hug really meant to her, but I just...I couldn't do it.

Boomer reappeared at the top of the stairs. "Time to go?" he asked.

Bandit looked up and nodded. "Time to go," he confirmed.

Ross gently caressed the soft, faded old page, feeling the worn leather of the cover. He studied the words on the piece of paper, reading each one slowly and carefully. He read it over multiple times to make sure he knew what it was really saying.

To know what his father had been really saying. Tyrone; before he had died. Before Damon had brutally murdered a young boy's father simply out of crazed jealousy. When his father had still been happy; still had Sylvie; and still had been friends with Damon.

Sighing, Ross closed his eyes. He tried to imagine his father, and not just the way he looked; but also the way he would talk or how he'd hold Ross or how he'd bite his lips and sometimes even draw blood when thinking too hard. He could remember how Tyrone was one of the most confident but friendly people out there; proud but not arrogant.

Ross then thought back even further to his mother, whom he remembered even less. He could vaguely recall her smile and her laugh, as well as how she'd always be cheerful and friendly. Ross knew his parents had been hopeless romantics, which made his mother's death so much more devastating for Tyrone.

He opened his eyes and looked back down at the journal, scanning the page again. The entry was warm and filled to the brim with enthusiasm, as was his father's main traits. Ross loved reading Tyrone's journal, as the man was honest and hardworking, but not so honest he was brutal. But the parts he couldn't sit through were the amounts of praise Tyrone paid Damon. Ross always wanted to scream at his father that Damon would betray him later on. As if Tyrone could hear my voice in the past from a journal.

Either Tyrone was really dense and clueless or Damon was a really good actor, but Ross doubted that Damon displayed as good a traits as Tyrone claimed. He figured that his father simply exaggerated his friends' good traits because they were such good friends and he couldn't see their flaws. Ross sighed. It looks like that was your downfall, Father...

The careless sheep makes an excellent dinner for the wolf, after all.

Finally focusing, Ross reread the entry fully. The date was completely washed away—despite Ross' attempts to preserve his father's journal, even that didn't prevent the notebook from aging:

"'Can you quite believe that there are only five more days until Christmas? I cannot wait, and while my friends roll their eyes at my excitement, I am still pretty eager for the holidays. The time for rejoicing and family draws ever nearer, along with the tradition of gift-giving. I have already bought presents for all my dear friends.

For Danes I bought a musket from an ancient souvenir store. It was a little more expensive, so I expect him to be grateful—in his grizzly Danes way, of course. As for Shamus, I got him a book of travels because I know how much he loves exploring the world. For Sylvie I bought a giant stuffed bat that was on sale with a box of cherry-filled chocolate. I wonder if she may take a hint... It is quite true that I didn't feel anything for her besides that little sister fondness for quite awhile, until I realized just what a beautiful woman she has grown into. I swear I shall treat her right, as I have tried to do for years.

I know Damon and Shamus like her as well, but I hope they understand. I have no intention of stealing her away. If she chooses either of them, I would be quite happy. In fact, I would actually be very happy if she chose one of them because I know they shall treat her with respect and love. I have seen the looks they give her and have teased them about it for so long; yet now here I am feeling the exact same way. Perhaps I shall hang mistletoe around the mansion.

Speaking of my like-a-brother-from-another-mother best friend Damon, I have tried to get a present I know he will appreciate. I know I am being most cheesy, and Damon will point it out in his gentle teasing manner. This year I have gotten him a big wolf plush doll. No matter how Damon protests, I know he likes those cutesy dolls. I admit they are quite adorable, but I do not exactly see the appeal. But if he is a fan of them, then it works for me! I also got him a new book. The book speaks of history, and it reminds me of the history of our formerly two feuding sides. I hope our sides continue to not fight anymore for many more years to come, so I can stay friends with these amazing people around me, especially Damon as he was originally on a different side from me.

To lose my friends because of war would be most terrible. I cannot imagine having to meet Damon on a battlefield, ready to fight to the death if need be despite our brotherly relationship. I do not know where such bitterly dark thoughts pour from, but I will push them aside. Damon is like my brother and our sides are not currently fighting. I do not believe things will change, as peace shall carry on and I may remain friends with Damon.

Merry early Christmas,

Signed,

Tyrone'"

Ross shook his head. You should've dealt with Damon when you had the chance, Dad; instead of wasting it trusting in him. He couldn't fully believe that Damon really had appeared so kind and funny, considering how large of a dark side the man had hidden. Who could act so nice 24/7, no matter how good of an actor they were? With a dark side that large, surely Damon showed a despicable side every now and then. The sides had begun feuding again...after Damon killed Tyrone. Ross shook his head. Everything you wanted, Dad, never happened or turned out to be a lie.

Ross sighed and set the journal down. At that instant, the door opened and Vix stepped in. "Ross?" he said.

"What's going on?" asked Ross, slipping the journal into one of his desk drawers.

Vix stopped walking and he sat down on Ross' green, slightly messy bed. "I wanted to show you something."

"What?" pressed Ross.

"Shamus told me about your frustrations at Damon." Vix hesitated before holding up a few sheets of paper and fanning them. "I...I have a few loose sheets from Damon's journal—sheets he gave to me on my birthday. Do you wish to read them?"

Ross' surprised green gaze turned steely and dark almost immediately. His eyes flashed. "...Okay," he stated steadily through a clenched jaw and balled-up fists. "Let's see what a murderer writes about in his journal."

Vix looked away as he handed Ross the sheets.

Ross scanned them over and his eyes widened. He looked up. "Is this for real...?"

Vix nodded. "It is."

BRICK: ...I don't like how clueless I am now in the story.

ME: Deal with it. *smirks* I'm the author and I control the plot.

BRICK: *rolls eyes*

BLOSSOM: I don't know...you're actually kind of cute. Except for the part where you call every single girl you see pretty.

BUTTERCUP: Someone's jealous...

BLOSSOM: Am not! I'm just saying that while he's clueless, complimenting every girl you meet will only lead to assumptions and possible broken hearts.

BRICK: Yeah, yours maybe.

BLOSSOM: *shoves him* I can't believe I called you "cute". I take it back; you're a jerk!

ME: Aww, you know you don't mean that. You two love e—

BLOSSOM & BRICK: No!

ME: *raises eyebrow* Okay, okay. Anyway, hope you liked this chapter! Please review. The next few chapters shall include more of the past (leading up to Vix's birthday), as well as more journal entries. The RRB sneak back into Damon's old cabin for more journal pages, and we see more of Ross and Vix's conversation! Ooh, and you know what the best part will be?

BUTTERCUP: ...What?

ME: More interactions between Butch, Buttercup, and Ross! So remember to review!

BUTTERCUP: Ughhh. *rolls eyes*