CHAPTER 32: WHAT A WOLF ADMITS
ME: Umm...no, nobody admits their love in this chapter.
BUTCH: Well now.
BLISS: I call false advertising.
ME: But I promise a few moments.
BUTCH: ...Double well now.
ME: And I might have a chapter titled something like this in the future... *coughs, winks*
BUTCH: *gags*
BOOMER: Are you implying something...?
BRICK: Isn't she always?
ME: Anyway, HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!
Thanks everyone for another great year! I now have 200+ subscribers on YouTube, 670+ watchers on DeviantART, and Call of the Wolves is going strong! Thank you, everyone here on Fanfiction, for all of your support with my other stories too!
May 2015 be a great year for you all; thanks for the support! YOU'RE ALL SUUUPER AWESOME!
BUTCH: God, I'm going to gag again.
BLASTER: *laughs* Don't choke, Butch.
ME: Oh come on.
BUTCH: Okay, fine. Kuku only owns her own OC's and the story. I'm getting out of here.
ME: Thank you once again, everyone. You've all made me super happy to be part of this community.
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2015!
Chapter 32: What a Wolf Admits
"What...What are you doing here?" Butch felt dumbfounded as he stared at Ross.
Ross shrugged. "I thought I'd pay you guys a visit. What? Not happy to see me?" His tone was teasing, but it seemed to have an edge to it. Butch decided to be careful.
"Oh no; it's just that I'm a little surprised." Shaking his head, the green Ruff forced himself to smile. "It's a nice surprise, of course."
"Glad to hear it. Can I come in?" Ross tilted his head to one side.
Butch hesitated, but he couldn't turn Ross away without seeming rude or suspicious. "Oh, sure. We're a little"—he glanced at Mojo's lab—"busy right now, but come on in."
After Ross had went in and settled down on a couch in the living room, Butch flew downstairs into Mojo's lab. "Guys, red alert!" he half-yelled.
"What's the problem?" Bandit asked.
"Ross. Here. In the house." When he got a few confused looks, Butch quickly explained why he had let Ross in. "We need enough people upstairs to keep him from wondering why so many people are absent."
"I'll go," Boomer volunteered.
Braker and Blaster agreed to go too. Bandit decided to stay with Brick. So the four who were going went back upstairs to greet Ross.
"Boomer, hi!" Ross said, standing up as the blue Ruff entered the room. "Hi, everyone!" he continued when he saw the others.
Braker nodded slightly curtly as he leaned against the wall and folded his arms.
"Bandit and Brick are a little...occupied at the moment," Butch stated, feeling a little nervous.
Before Ross could ask any questions, pink cloud manifested beside him. He jumped when he heard an echoey voice call out, "Oh hello! I see we have a guest over."
"Him, I do believe you haven't met Ross yet," Butch said, relieved that the demon had stopped any questions. "Ross, Him; Him, Ross."
"H-Hi," stammered Ross. He seemed a little uneasy.
Him smiled a toothy smile. "Would you like anything to drink, Ross?"
"Oh, no thank you. I-I don't usually drink anything at other people's houses." Ross gently pushed his wavy brown hair out of his eyes, before pulling something out of his bag. It was a water bottle full of red liquid. "Uncle Shamus wants me to drink either water or a special health drink for awhile. It's a new thing he's trying out. I wouldn't mind a soda every now and then, but y'know; rules are rules."
"Of course." Him turned and headed to the kitchen. "At least let me get you something to eat. Some cookies might be nice. You like cookies, don't you?" He paused to look at Ross.
"I love cookies," Ross said.
"Good, good. Well, I'll go and get some cookies. Then I'll leave you boys to your own discussions. But Ross, dear, I do wish to ask you a few questions later on. Really get to know you, y'know?"
"Of course."
"Great." Him smiled brightly before disappearing out the door.
Butch turned back to Ross. "Is there anything specific you want to talk about?"
"Not really. I just happened to be passing by the area and I figured I'd check out your house." Ross shrugged.
"Well, now you've seen it," Braker muttered.
Blaster nudged him. "What Braker means is that we really didn't expect a visit. So everything's a little messy." He gritted his teeth. "It's not as fancy as Michael's house, of course."
"If you're implying that I am uptight and only like big, fancy houses, you're not entirely correct. I'll admit they're nice, but they just don't always feel very homey." Ross drank from his water bottle. "Especially when you have things everywhere that give you bad memories."
Boomer thought back to the abandoned room that was Tyrone's room in Michael and Ross' home, along with all the portraits. "...Makes sense," he said quietly.
Him returned with a platter of cookies. He set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. "I hope you like snickerdoodle."
"I do, thank you." Ross smiled and picked a cookie up.
Braker leaned forward and took one too; even when feeling a little hostile, Braker couldn't resist his favourite snack. "Thanks, Him."
As Him left, Ross faced Butch. "I was just wondering about—"
Just then, a painful cry sounded. Butch sprang to action, not thinking as he dove straight for Mojo's lab. His brothers followed, and in the end, so did Ross. When they got downstairs into the laboratory, they saw Brick sitting on the bed he'd been lain down on. He looked like he was in pain.
"I thought you made his brainwaves more stable!" Butch yelled at Blossom, who winced when she heard his accusing tone.
"I-I did! But that doesn't mean these spasms won't still happen—"
"Can't you fix this—!?"
"Butch, calm the fuck down!" Buttercup shoved forward and placed a hand on Butch's chest. Her piercing emerald-green eyes stared back into Butch's, her voice lowering: "Remember, Brick's currently sensitive to noise."
Butch froze, turning to look at his brother. A few moments of silence passed and Brick eventually relaxed. He didn't pass out this time, instead blinking and looking around. "Ban-dit," he said slowly, "my head hurts."
"You got my name right!" Bandit's relief was short-lived however, as he had to get an ice pack and place it on Brick's forehead.
During this entire ordeal, Ross had been staring in shock. Now that it was over, he turned to Butch. "What... What's going on?" he managed to say.
Butch sighed. He hadn't wanted this issue to be revealed. "Ross, you know we're superheroes, right?"
"Yes, but—"
"So we fight a lot. Brick here got hurt really badly. He currently has amnesia."
Ross' expression was bewildered. He looked dumbfounded. "But...who could've done this...?"
Butch's fingers curled into fists. "You don't want to know; trust me."
"...Oh. I see. You don't fully trust me." Ross took a deep, shaky breath. "That's understandable."
"That's not what I meant..." Butch trailed off as Ross shook his head.
"Forget it," the brown-haired boy said. He hurried over to Brick. "Let me help."
Braker stepped forward. "We appreciate the help, but this is a family matter—"
"Excuse me, but now that I know about this, I can't just stand here and do nothing! I can't pretend Brick's not in pain. If there's any way I can help, then I will!" Ross stood up, having bent down to study Brick, and narrowed his eyes at Braker. "I've been having a hard day, and I don't want to deal with mistrust too! I learned something today about you Ruffs that changes everything and I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but—!"
"Ross... What did you learn?" Boomer stepped forward, concerned.
Ross stopped himself and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry about the outburst. It's nothing."
"Ross..." Boomer frowned.
"It really wasn't anything," Ross muttered, "it just had to do with the past. That's all."
Boomer glanced at Butch. Both of them felt uneasy. Maybe he knows. About us and Damon.
Braker stepped down, clearly also thinking the same thing. "I'm sorry, man. I'm just stressed and I'm used to dealing with this stuff on our own as a family..." He trailed off.
"No, I get it." Ross took the ice pack from Bandit, who had just returned, and placed it on Brick's forehead. "Hold that there, okay? It'll help with the pain."
"Thank you," Brick said, smiling despite his pain. "You're very nice."
Ross continued talking quietly to Brick in a soothing tone. He helped the red Ruff feel better.
Meanwhile, the Ruffs met with the Puffs. Bliss was unhappy with Braker, smacking him on the arm. "What sort of behaviour was that!? For the most friend-making Ruff, that sure was rude!"
"I'm sorry! I'm just used to being a lone wolf relying only on his pack; plus I'm tired!" Braker shot back.
Bandit gave his brother a look. "Don't use such silly terms. 'Lone wolf' is normal but 'pack' isn't really." His voice was strained.
Buttercup turned to Butch. "What was Ross talking about when he mentioned the past?"
"Not anything special. We just... It was just about the past. That's it." Butch scratched the back of his neck.
Buttercup frowned but didn't press further. Ross was approaching the group.
"I now see why you guys didn't specify who hurt Brick," Ross said. "Maybe you guys didn't know; maybe it was just a random burglar or monster; maybe it was even one of you... But it wasn't. You knew."
Butch stared at Ross. "What are you saying?"
Ross sighed, "I know who hurt Brick. He told me it was Vix."
"But his amnesia—"
"He said that Bandit told him it was a person named 'Vix' who hurt him." Ross looked up at them with weary eyes.
Buttercup spun around to stare at Butch. "You mean it was the creep who attacked us awhile back!?"*
"Wait, this is the first time I've heard about this!" Blossom exclaimed. "What happened to you guys? Who's this 'Vix'?"
Seemingly realizing his mistake, Ross continued: "But it wasn't necessarily Vix who gave Brick amnesia. I said 'hurt', and that's it."
"But then what about Butch and BC being attacked?" demanded Blossom.
"No, I got the names mixed up. It was someone...named Vince. He was just a petty thief," Buttercup said quickly.
Blossom looked like she didn't believe them, but she let it slide. "Okay," she sighed, "let's go check on Brick."
Everyone walked off except for Ross, who asked both Buttercup and Butch to stay behind. When Butch asked him why, Ross explained, "You two were attacked by Vix?"
Buttercup shot a panicked, questioning look at Butch. It asked if it was okay to tell Ross the truth. Butch, in turn, sighed and nodded. "Yes."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Ross' voice was strained.
"I'm sorry too." Butch kept an even gaze with Ross, hoping the boy knew what he meant. He was saying sorry because he knew Ross was friends with Vix, but he was also friends with the Ruffs.
Ross looked at Buttercup. "I hope he didn't hurt you too badly. Of course, you're very strong, but still—"
"I'm fine," Buttercup said, her cheeks just the faintest hint of pink.
Butch felt a sting as Ross turned to him. "Buttercup's strong. You don't need to be worried about her. I'm pretty sure she can handle Vix on her own."
Buttercup glanced at him in surprise.
"And you were okay too?" asked Ross.
"Of course," Butch answered, a hint of challenge in his tone. "I can take Vix on any day."
"I don't doubt it." Ross then addressed the both of them: "You two are some of the toughest people I know."
"Th-Thanks," Buttercup said.
Ross smiled. "You're welcome."
Butch felt the sting again. "Buttercup, go check on Brick. I have something I want to ask Ross." When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, "In private."
She clamped her mouth shut and let out a small grumble. "Okay, fine." She waved as she walked off. "See you later, Ross. It'll be fun talking to you again sometime."
Ross waved back, smiling. When she was gone, he glanced at Butch. "She's great, isn't she?"
"I guess." Butch shrugged. "I mean, if you're into that sort of thing."
Ross chuckled. "Right."
"Anyway, I wanted to ask you about Vix. Did he tell you?"
"About you Rowdyruffs and Damon?" Ross blinked. As Butch stared at him expectantly, Ross sighed, "Well, yes."
"And you... You don't hate us?"
Ross' lips tightened into a thin line. "Oh, don't get me wrong. It's not like I'm not upset. But I don't want to hate anyone. That's not... It's not what my parents would've wanted."
"But you might hate us." Butch frowned.
Ross sighed. "Maybe if I learned more. Right now, I don't know enough to make a proper judgement." He glanced at the crowd around Brick, especially at Boomer. "Besides...you guys are really nice."
"But I guess your opinion of Damon hasn't changed," Butch pressed.
Ross stared at the floor. "...Not really. Just...a little. Vix told me about the night he was taken from Damon."
Butch stared at Ross in surprise. "He never told you?"
"No." Ross shook his head. "I don't think he's told anyone. Only Danes, Maxim, Vix, and some of Danes' senior men know."
"I thought more of you would know," Butch finally commented. He paused. "What was it like? We were late for Vix's birthday party. We only saw the flames. We guessed that Damon and Vix were dead, until he showed up recently and attacked BC and I."*
Ross hesitated. "That might be something you should ask Vix himself. I don't think it's my place to tell you."
"...I don't know if I'll ever be able to ask him," Butch replied bitterly, thinking back to the times where Damon had taken care of both of them. "We aren't friends anymore. We're enemies now."
"And that might happen to us too. Damon killed my dad, and you guys and Vix were on Damon's side. Things might happen and we no longer will be friends either," Ross said.
"Ross... I'm sorry about your father's death. Really, I am. We only found out recently. But I'm just not sure Damon did it. If it turns out it was truly him who murdered Tyrone, then we will stop defending his honour. Please understand; Damon was so nice to us."
"No, I get it. Vix deals with the same problem as you when it comes to Damon. He cared about that man like a second father."
"He does? I thought he had lost complete faith in Damon," Butch responded, surprised again.
Ross shook his head. "He often reminisces about the past. I see it in his eyes."
Butch stared at his feet. "...I didn't think he still had that side to him. The new Vix is so...different. I guess...there's a lot about Vix I don't know anymore."
"The death of someone you care about really changes people." Ross sighed a long sigh. "Tyrone was sort of broken after Sylvie died." He paused and tried rewording the sentence: "I mean...my dad was sort of broken after my mom died."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Butch frowned.
Ross groaned as he pushed a hand up his hair. "I just...I'm tired, Butch. I want to keep trusting you guys. Keep being your friend. And I'm sorry about Brick's amnesia, but I'm just warning you now. Things might change. If all this really does lead the 'war' to escalate again, and I find out something else that makes me even more upset with you, then I'll have to stop being your friend."
"No...I understand." Butch swallowed. "I just wish things didn't have to be this way."
"I wish you were different people. Someone who never knew Damon. Then I wouldn't have to feel so conflicted about this." Ross placed a hand on Butch's shoulder. "But we don't control the past. Damon did something unforgivable. I'm sorry you guys have to pay for it, but that's just how things turned out."
"We'd never hurt anyone from your side. You don't have to—" Butch tried.**
"But the damage is already done. It's not easy befriending someone who knew the person that killed my father."
Butch was silent.
"I don't hate you, Butch—I don't hate any of you. But I can. I might. I don't want to, but I don't control my feelings. And as I said, I don't control the past. The damage has been done and I have reason to hate you all. Yet I don't. I don't know how long I can resist blaming all of you, but I'll try."
Butch sighed. "I understand. Ross, if things really do lead to battle..."
"Then we will both be ready. Neither of us will show mercy or weakness, even if we wanted to. We'd be defending our own sides, so we can't do anything but fight. We'd be enemies; rivals; opposing one another," Ross finished.
"I really wish things didn't have to be this way."
"So do I. Yet the past has already occurred." Ross started to walk past Butch, hand still on his shoulder. He paused. "And Butch?"
"Yes?"
"I happen to really like Buttercup. Let's keep her and her sisters out of this. I want them to be safe. Ignorance is bliss, after all."
"...Of course. I've been trying, but she's a nosy one. All of them are."
Ross chuckled lightly. "I can tell." He lowered his voice. "But I'm just saying this now. I can tell you two have a lot of chemistry together. Although...if you don't hurry and make a move, then I'll make mine."
Butch turned to stare at Ross in shock, but he was already gone and had joined the others.
After Ross had left, the house was strangely silent. The Professor and Mojo were still running tests and analyzing Brick's current condition. All of the children had been shooed back upstairs.
Buttercup sat uncomfortably on a sofa, unable to keep from fidgeting. Blossom gave her a look but Buttercup kept moving her fingers around. She couldn't help it.
Butch sat across from her, completely silent as he gazed blankly into the distance. He'd been quiet after he and Ross had finished talking, but now that Ross was gone, he was completely silent. Buttercup wondered what the two had said.
When Him appeared with lunch, Blossom stood and thanked him. The Powerpuff Girls hadn't meant to intrude, but the Professor's work made it so that they had to stay.
Buttercup took her plate. It was rice with chicken. The vegetables included broccoli and carrots. She wasn't a huge fan of either of the veggies, but she could stand eating it. Besides, she could tell by the atmosphere that any complaints—even as a joke—wouldn't be well-taken.
She glanced at Butch again. He was still quiet, only eating a little. He mostly played with his food, swirling it around and around in his plate. Butch seemed distracted, to say the least, and his lack of appetite made it all the more evident.
"I speak for all of us when I say that this tastes great," Blossom told Him, breaking the silence as the ever polite one.
"Thank you, Blossom." Him smiled. But then he sighed as he glanced at the Ruffs, particularly Butch. "I just wish I could do more to help take your minds off of Brick for a little while."
Butch's fork stabbed deeply into the chicken, causing sauce to fly into the air. He grumbled a "sorry" as he cleaned the sauce up, the first word he'd said since Ross had left.
"Butch...?" questioned Him, clearly worried. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh, everything's just fine," he said, almost sarcastically. When Butch got a look from Him, he repeated, "Just. Fucking. Fine."
"I don't like your tone," Him warned.
"What do you care about my tone!?" Butch yelled, slamming his plate onto the coffee table. Bits of chicken, rice, and veggies flew through the air as the green Ruff stood up. "There's more shit going on to dislike than just my fucking tone!"
"Butch," Him said warningly, his voice bordering on his masculine side.
"Jesus, Butch—calm the fuck down!" hissed Bandit, standing up and tugging at Butch's hoodie sleeve.
"This entire fucking thing is enough to keep anyone from being calm, let alone—" Butch began shouting, but was cut off as flames erupted within the house.
When the pink-red flames settled—having not burnt anything—Him was there in a more monstrous form. His yellow-green eyes glowed red as he yelled, "This is not the time to be breaking down! You boys are tougher than that. The past is in the past. We will not be broken by it!"
Blossom shared a confused look with Buttercup. The only thing to be worried about right now is Brick's amnesia, right...? So why do the Ruffs keep mentioning the "past"?
Butch, who was staring at Him in shock, suddenly collapsed on the sofa and groaned, "Okay, okay. I get the message. Thanks, Him." He looked away. "And sorry I got so worked up about it," he added in a low grumble.
"Any time, dear." Him returned to his usual form with a swirl of pink-red smoke.
The door to Mojo's lab burst open and Mojo himself appeared. "What happened!?" he demanded, looking worried.
"Nothing, Mojo—I just had to calm Butch down a little," Him replied.
"You call that calming down!? You sounded like you were ready to murder somebody! I thought"—Mojo shook his head—"oh, never mind. Just forget it." He turned around and called over his shoulder, "You guys scared Brick with all your shouting! Keep it down."
After he had left, Him started giggling. Then he laughed, "Of course that was the only reason Mojo paid us a visit." He winked. "He would never admit that he was actually worried."
After all of that had been settled, they went back to eating. Or at least, everybody except Buttercup and Butch. She was busy chewing on an extra tough bit of meat when Him approached her.
"You told Butch you'd be here to keep him in check, didn't you?" asked Him.
"I did," Buttercup mumbled back, her mouth still full.
"Maybe you could stick to your word and check on Butch now. He may have calmed down, but I'm worried that he's still...well, thinking too much."
"I tried talking to him earlier and he started babbling about the past and how stupid love is." Buttercup shook her head. "I don't think he wants to talk to me now."
Him raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but you don't know that. Butch happens to really care about you, BC. I'm sure he'd listen to you."
In her shock at Him's words, Buttercup swallowed the bone and started choking. Him patted her on the back and she downed a cup of water. When she had stopped coughing, she stared up at Him with complete disbelief. "Listen? To me!? Care? About me!?" she spluttered. "I think you have your facts wrong, Him!"
"At least give it a chance," Him countered. "Maybe you'll see that I'm right."
Buttercup turned to look at Butch, who was staring at Him and Buttercup. When he saw her looking, he quickly turned his head away. The green Puff sighed. "He doesn't look like he'd listen to m—"
"It doesn't matter what he looks like he will or will not do; what matters is what it sounds or feels like," Him said. "Go on, give it a shot."
Groaning, Buttercup caved in. "Okay, fine. But don't blame me when your stupid idea doesn't work."
"You forget who you're talking to," Him responded airily. He gently pushed her forward. "You'll see that I'm right; I promise you."
"Okay, okay. Stop pushing me." Buttercup stood up, carefully balancing her plate in her hands as she walked toward Butch.
He looked up. "What do you want? Don't tell me Him sent you."
Buttercup hesitated. Him had sent her, so she could either lie and not be believed, or tell the truth and be pushed away.
Her pause proved to be too long, as Butch turned away and grumbled, "I knew it."
The green Puff sat down beside him. "It doesn't matter who I was sent by. I told you I'd keep you in check, so that's what I'm going to do."
"I don't need someone to keep me calm; I'm perfectly fine on my own," snapped Butch.
"Clearly—your little outburst definitely proved that." Buttercup folded her arms.
Butch rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. So maybe I do need to calm down a little. But I don't need you to do that."
"It's not like I want to hang out with a grumpy you, but I am. I'm not even being paid to do this!" Buttercup shot back. She thought back to their earlier argument. "To be perfectly honest, any other time I'd be avoiding the hell out of you right now, considering our little...'argument'."
The mention of their earlier dispute made Butch remember how he had wanted to apologize earlier, before Ross had appeared. It seemed a little like an awkward time to say he was sorry, considering how rude he just was, but Butch had been so stressed out he'd completely forgotten.
"It's really not easy talking to you when you're so angry," Buttercup continued, oblivious to Butch's silence. "Honestly, you're like a giant gorilla who's mad because someone just touched your favourite plaything."
"Buttercup..." Butch began.
Surprised at his quiet tone, Buttercup paused. "Yeah?"
"Shut up for a second."
This, of course, did not in fact shut Buttercup up. "Well sure I'll be totally quiet even though I'm completely annoyed by your stupid—"
"Just be quiet for a sec, okay? I have something I want to say."
Buttercup stopped talking and stared at him expectantly.
"I'm... It's not... That is..." Butch struggled to find the right words. Every single time he tried, the words seemed to disappear from his brain. "How am I supposed to say this?"
"Get on with it, Butch," Buttercup said, still looking irritated.
Butch groaned quietly. "Okay, look—I just wanted to say... I'm...I'm s-s—"
Buttercup raised an eyebrow as Butch continued to struggle.
"I'msorryokay?" Butch finally blurted out.
"What...?"
"I said, I'm sorry!" Butch threw his hands into the air. "About earlier. I said some pretty stupid stuff. You're right; love can be beautiful. I know that. It's just that...I'm still not always a fan of it. It's also true that love can really fuck some people up. It makes some people really jealous and violent and they do a bunch of stupid shit that leads to a lot of stupid consequences. It affects the people around them when they screw up so badly. And this one screw-up means that everyone else has to pay too, and be unhappy.
"And yet, at the same time, you were still right. Love is still a beautiful and amazing thing that can make two people really happy. I guess...it just depends. The happy ones are just...right for one another."
"Butch... It's nice hearing from you of all people say I'm right and even apologize, but what's with all this talk about 'screw-ups' that affect others?" Buttercup said, her voice gentler than it had been before. "You're talking as if you have experience of that sort of thing."
Butch froze, clearly hesitating. He met eyes with Buttercup. Hers were curious, and his were nervous. "I—well, that is to say..." He swallowed in an attempt to get rid of the forming lump in his throat.
"...You can tell me," she murmured, leaning forward. Her eyes never left his.
"It's just that... Yeah, okay. I guess you can say I've had experience of this sort of thing." Butch sighed as he pushed his hand up his spiky black hair. "It's not a big a deal though."
"Really? Because it seems to have affected you a lot, seeing as you're so worked up over it," Buttercup responded.
Butch hesitated again, thinking back to Ross. He'd requested that Buttercup and her sisters be left out of the feud between their two sides. Butch had agreed because he really did want Buttercup and the Puffs to be kept out of it all. He wanted them to be safe. As Ross had said, "ignorance is bliss".
"You can't hide things forever, Butch."
"...It's not that big of a deal," Butch finally replied, his voice firm and definite. "Look, I apologized to you, right? What more do you want?"
Buttercup's expression soured. "It would be nice if you would actually tell me the truth for once."
"What are you talking about? I don't lie to you—"
"Oh really? What about the time with Vix? You didn't tell me anything about that! You Ruffs are clearly hiding something. All of you keep talking about the past, and you're always acting weirdly. You whisper about things no one else knows about, and you seem to get in fights constantly. What are all of you hiding!?" demanded Buttercup.
"Nothing, okay!? Some things are just private matters! Other stuff is just you blowing it out of proportion! We aren't hiding anything!" Butch replied, his voice rising.
Buttercup's eyes narrowed as she said, "Yeah, well I bet Ross isn't the type to hide as many things as you. I'll just ask him what you two were whispering about. He'll tell me because he trusts me."
That's the last straw fucking straw. Butch grabbed his counterpart's hands. "Don't be stupid," he snapped.
"How is that being stupid? Ross is my friend; I'm pretty sure he trusts me." Buttercup demanded, after she had recovered from the shock of Butch holding her hands. It wasn't all that romantic though.
"Just go ahead and try asking him. I promise you he won't tell you much either. He understands that we were talking about a private issue between us and us alone. It doesn't involve you, so will you let it go?" Butch said.
"What's so private about it?" Buttercup shot back, trying to pull her hands away. Butch's grip tightened.
"I'm only saying this because I care about you, BC. There are things in this world that you just don't want to fucking know. Sometimes it's better that way. Safer. 'Ignorance is bliss', y'know?" Butch's gaze softened. "There are other things I'm willing to tell you, but this isn't one of them. I can't spill my guts about this."
When she heard that last part, her shock about Butch saying that he "cared for her" faded. Buttercup frowned. "That's not fair," she whispered quietly.
Butch sighed, relieved to have quashed her fiery curiosity for the day. "I know it's not fair, BC—but it's just the way things are."
"Why won't you trust me?"
"It's not a matter of trust." Butch met her eyes. "It's a matter of privacy."
Buttercup looked away. "This sounds serious."
"I swear, it's not. Just because I'm not telling you doesn't mean it's some sort of big deal." Butch gave her hands a squeeze. "Life just works that way. Consider yourself lucky that you don't have to know."
Looking up, Buttercup stared into his deep green eyes. They seemed to pierce her soul. "...Maybe you can tell me someday."
"...Yeah, maybe."
"When you're ready. And when you trust me enough."
This time Butch looked away. "I told you, it doesn't have to do with trust. I do trust you."
Buttercup was silent for awhile. Then: "I guess that means you're calm now."
"Yeah, I guess so," he agreed.
"...You can probably let go of my hands then."
Butch glanced down at their intertwined fingers and flushed a deep shade of red. He quickly drew his hands back. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Nah, it's okay. It was...sort of nice. Really added to the feel of the moment." Buttercup shook her hands out, also blushing.
"I don't know what got into me." Butch rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Jealousy or anger, maybe. He pushed the thought away. "Anyway, thanks for understanding."
Buttercup nodded. "No problem. I just hope you'll be ready to tell me one day." She looked up and placed one arm around his shoulder, managing a smile. "Calmed down now?"
"Yeah... Yeah, I think so. Thanks, BC." Butch forced a smile back.
"No problem." Buttercup gave his shoulders a squeeze with her arm. Then she stood up and walked away. The green Powerpuff glanced back once.
Butch watched her go, his stomach settling into an uneasy knot. When Buttercup had rejoined her sisters, Butch sighed and leaned back into the couch. He felt eyes on his back and turned to see Him with a raised eyebrow. The demon-like Him smiled. Butch rolled his eyes but managed to return the smile with a weak smirk. Then he sank deeper into the sofa cushions, sinking deeper into his thoughts.
I have a feeling Buttercup and I are going to be awkward for a little while. Meanwhile, we might end up at "war" with Danes and his men... Which includes Ross—and even Vix.
Dammit, Damon—why did you have to make things so hard for us? We trusted you and now things are getting out of hand. I want to keep believing you were innocent, but what if you're not?
...Dammit.
Ross stopped walking when he got to the mansion he was currently staying in. He had conversations that needed to be had—he wanted to confront Vix and Danes. Ross walked in through the gates, dragging his tired feet along. He kept reflecting on all that he had said to Butch. They had talked about the past so much.
Ross really didn't want to hate the Ruffs, people he considered his friends. He'd almost ended up hating them until Vix told him the story about how he'd lost Damon. That seemed like such a cruel way to lose a second father, even if he was a murderer—besides, neither the Ruffs or Vix knew what Damon was at the time. Still, it was true that things might turn up that would lead to Ross despising the Ruffs or having to face them on the battlefield.
Sighing, Ross turned the key in the door and walked inside. He was immediately hit with the salty smell of something from the kitchen. He sniffed the air; it was fresh. Ross licked his lips. Shamus and the chefs must be preparing lunch, he thought. Ross had had a few cookies at the Ruffs' house, but now he was hungry. He made his way toward the kitchen and pushed open the doors.
"Uncle Shamus?" he called.
"Ross, there you are! Where have you been?" Shamus responded, hurrying over to his nephew.
"I...went for a walk," Ross replied. It was half the truth, anyway. He sniffed the air again. "What's cooking?"
"I call it 'Sang de Porc'," Shamus answered, sarcastically dramatic.
Ross rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I forgot you were so good at French."
Shamus smiled slightly. "Come set the table later. You'll get an extra piece of pork. I noticed you haven't been very...happy, lately."
"It's hard to be cheerful with the aspect of battle looming over my head," Ross groaned.
"Don't worry about that for now. Just enjoy yourself." Shamus ruffled Ross' hair. "Well, don't forget your mission either."
Ross rolled his eyes. "I know, I know."
"Now go ahead and play with your friends. Michael, DJ, Darkai, and Sidney were looking for you."
"Okay. But first, I wanna talk to Vix." Ross said bye to his uncle and walked off. He wandered until he reached his father's portrait. Staring at the photo, he sighed.
"...Something troubling you?"
Jumping, Ross turned to see just who he was looking for. "Vix...!"
"Hey, kid." Vix smirked just slightly. "What's up?"
Ross' expression turned serious as he turned to look back at his father's portrait. "Vix, you did something recently, didn't you?"
"Well, sure I've done things, but you need to specify what that something is before I c—"
"You attacked Brick, didn't you?" Ross blurted out.
Vix suddenly froze, his expression darkening.
Ross sighed, "So it's true."
"Who told you that?" Vix asked sharply.
"...The Ruffs," Ross answered.
"You went to talk to them even after I told you they knew Damon?"
"You also told me they hadn't found out about Damon killing my dad till recently. I decided to see their side of the story so I went to talk to them." Ross' hands tightened into fists. "Why did you rough Brick up so badly? I thought you still cared about them."
Vix's expression darkened. "He pissed me off."
"That's not reason enough to beat him up like that!"
"It's not my fault he was so weak!"
"Do you even know what you did to him!?"
"Why should I care?"
"I know you do!"
"They know the man who killed your dad! Why are you so worked up about their safety!?"
"They don't deserve to be punished for Damon's misdeeds! You knew Damon too, didn't you!? And yet you still became my friend and earned my trust!"
"Look, kid; even if I wanted to care, I can't! It's my job! Who do you think does all of Danes' dirty work!?"
Ross paused, calming down. "I know you do. And I know Danes counters the power of your Eye with his special artifact. But still—you went too far with Brick. Danes wasn't there; you could've stopped at any time. You really hurt Brick."
"He said a bunch of stuff that pissed me off! He didn't understand my position. Sure, I didn't mean to beat him up so badly, but he made me so mad... He had no right to accuse me without knowing my situation!" Vix paused. "...Besides, how do you know? I know he's been missing from school, but—"
"I don't think it's my place to tell you. If you want to know, ask one of the Rowdyruff Boys."
"About what?"
Ross' gaze remained cold. "Ask them how Brick's doing. Just don't attack them." He turned around and walked off.
"I don't know why you care so much about their safety," Vix called after him, trying to comprehend what Ross was saying.
The boy stopped walking and spun around. "I don't have enough information to hate them yet! But you...you need to stop lying to yourself."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Vix.
"I know you still worry about the Ruffs! Stop telling yourself you don't!" Ross yelled.
As Ross disappeared around a corner, Vix was left to wonder if the boy was right. Do I really still care about the Ruffs?
Meanwhile, Ross had stopped walking in front of two tall doors. He hesitated before knocking on them. "Come in," a voice called, low and rumbling.
Ross pushed one of the doors open and peeked inside. A tall office chair was turned away from him. "Danes...?" he mumbled.
The chair turned and Ross' green eyes met stony gray ones. "Good afternoon, Ross. I believe Shamus was looking for you earlier."
"I know. I talked to him before I came here."
"I see." Danes raised an eyebrow. "Come on in, Boy. Sit down."
Ross crossed the room and took a seat.
"What have you come to talk to me about?" Danes asked.
"I-I was wondering about something that has to do with Damon," Ross finally said.
Danes immediately stiffened as his gaze hardened. "Really? And what do you wish to know?"
"Is it true that you took Vix away from Damon?"
Danes slammed his fist down on the desk, showing the most emotion Ross had ever seen. The noise startled the poor boy, and Danes' risen voice didn't help. "I saved him from a murderer! Who told you that he was taken?"
Swallowing hard, Ross sank back in his seat. He didn't want to say it was Vix who had told him, because he would be punished with the artifact that hurt him so, along with having numerous more missions piled onto his plate. Even though Ross was upset with Vix, he still didn't want his friend to be in trouble. "N-No one," he lied, "I just did some digging on my own."
"And how did you get this intel?"
"...Notes," Ross whispered. "I found notes on it. From Vix."
Danes immediately relaxed. "I see. So you're telling me that you dug through Vix's things on your own and found that he had written I 'took' him from Damon?"
"Yes. It was of my own accord. I-I wanted to know more, because if things really do lead to war"—Ross swallowed. He had no idea where he was going with this—"I want to be well-informed and know what's going on. Because...Tyrone was my father. I-I figured I deserved to know more."
"Ah." Danes searched Ross' face. "You really are the star pupil. You have displayed intellect, a desire for knowledge, and the ability to secretly do research on your own. Very impressive, Ross."
"Th-Thank you."
"Well, I suppose I understand why Vix would write that I 'took' him from Damon, especially right after the...incident." Danes paused. "So I'm sure you already know about how Damon most likely perished in fire."
Ross nodded.
Danes continued, "I will tell you now that it was not my intention to set fire to the cabin. One of my foolish men happened to drop a lantern and set the place aflame. I simply wanted to punish Damon for his misdeeds by taking the boy he so cared about."
"Sounds reasonable," Ross answered, straining to sound reasonable himself.
"Yes. I would have left him to waste away in his misery, or kicked him into a deep, dark cell. However, burning him seemed rather excessive. Yet, it happened. I do not control the hands of fate." Danes' fingers drummed along his oak desk, before he stirred his tea. "Is that all you wished to know, Ross?"
"Yessir," Ross said, standing up. "Thank you for your time, sir."
"It was my pleasure, Ross. I always enjoy helping inquisitive young men gain more knowledge about the situations at hand," Danes answered. "Now hurry along; I believe lunch is about ready. I still have some work to do, so it would be much appreciated if you could tell Shamus that I will be late."
"Yessir," Ross stated again, making his way for the door. Then he paused. "And Danes?"
"Yes, Ross?"
"Please don't punish Vix for writing such a thing."
"Oh, I would never do such a thing. I understand that he was simply heartbroken after losing a second father, even if it was such a despicable man," Danes promised. He smiled. "Or...at least as long as Vix wrote it and didn't actuallytell you such a thing, I shall let it slide."
Ross shuddered before exiting, letting the doors click shut behind them. He glanced back only once. Danes looks even scarier when he smiles, if that's possible. I think I prefer it when Danes doesn't smile.
Music tinkled into the air, enveloping Butch and settling his nerves down for the moment. It was the music box Damon had prepared, completely dedicated to Sylvie. Butch was digging through it and reading the stuff inside. He wanted to go through everything, but for a small box, it contained a surprisingly big amount of papers.
As the music began to end, Butch pulled out a slip of paper. It was another poem, but it was shorter this time. It looked like a haiku.
"'Broken heart of mine
Longs for you beside me now
Yet you are so far.'"
Sighing, the green Ruff put the poem away. Damon had written so many things about Sylvie, gathered a lot of pictures, and put them all into the music box. Butch wondered if Damon had had any intention of giving this to Sylvie... Until he realized that she loved Tyrone, that is.
Another dig brought up a photo tossed deep into the box. It looked like it had been torn apart before being carelessly taped together. Butch stared at it. A beautiful woman he assumed was Sylvie stood, with a man. But he couldn't tell who the man was. The man's face was scribbled out with a thick red pen. Glancing down at the right-hand corner, Butch found words written in violent red ink. It read, "I thought you were my FRIEND".
He shuddered. The words had been crossed out with black pen, and beneath it said: "I'm sorry".
Butch flipped it over. The back was covered in words, all in red pen. "She loves me. She loves me not." Then in the corner, in capital letters, it said "SHE LOVES ME NOT".
He dropped the box. That's enough snooping for today, he told himself, watching the photo flutter to the floor. He reached down and picked up the photo and the box, putting the picture back inside. Then he put the music box on his shelf. Taking a deep breath, Butch relaxed and leaned back against his pillows on his bed. An uncomfortable feeling wriggled around in his stomach, and he hated it.
Letting out a long, deep groan, Butch messed up his hair. "Ugh I can't think like this! Did Damon commit murder or not!?" He was about to start punching something to let out some stress, but then a rapping sound on his window.
"What the hell is that?" he muttered, grabbing the curtains. Pulling them apart, he was met with a hand. Butch let out a cry of surprise, eyes widening. It wasn't until the face of the person appeared that Butch relaxed...although not for long. He stiffened angrily. "Vix," he snarled.
The older teen folded his arms outside, raising an eyebrow. "Let me in," he mouthed.
Butch frowned, still growling. Then, against his better judgement, he opened the window—but not before confronting Vix. "What the fuck are you doing here, you asshole!?"
"Whoa, calm down, big guy. I'm not here to—"
Butch grabbed him by the collar and snapped, "I'm not interested. Get the fuck outta here."
"I told you to calm down!" Vix grabbed Butch's wrist and forced it away. "I'm not here to fight."
"Then what are you here for? Every time I see you all that happens is bad shit, even when you don't want to fight. Why should this time be different?"
"I came here to talk." Vix sighed, hesitating. "...Ross told me to. He also told me not to attack you guys."
Butch paused. "What...? Ross told you to—?" He trailed off, pausing.
Vix looked up, meeting his eyes. "Will you talk to me now?"
Butch hesitated this time. Then he grumbled, "Fine."
"Ah! Glad to see you've decided to listen," Vix said cheerfully, with a hint of sarcasm. He waved his arms to emphasize his apparent "gladness".
"Yeah, yeah; whatever. If you're here to talk, then talk. Don't waste my time." Butch folded his arms and raised an expectant eyebrow.
Vix sighed. "Pushy, pushy. Always so impatient." Then he paused to think things over. "Well...Ross told me to ask you guys about Brick's condition." There was clear hesitation as he asked next, "How is he?"
Stiffening, the green Ruff eyed his companion warily. "Ross didn't tell you?"
"He said it wasn't his place to talk about such things." Vix shrugged.
"...I see." Butch was silently thankful to Ross for caring about the Ruffs' privacy, and yet he was also a little disappointed—because now he had to deal with Vix.
"So? What's wrong with the redhead?" Vix raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know if I should trust you," Butch replied sharply, stalling.
"Ugh there you go again. Being all rude." Vix rolled his eyes.
His words pissed Butch off. "Says the guy who attacked my brother and beat him up till he was unconscious!" he yelled back.
"Jeez! Okay, okay; I get your point. So quit yelling, will you? I don't want to explain my situation to all of you," Vix said, clamping a hand over Butch's mouth.
The green Ruff let out a muffled snarl, trying to say something. After Vix released his mouth, Butch took a deep breath. "Don't touch my mouth with your filthy hand again!" he warned.
"What are you? Five?" Rolling his eyes, Vix sat down on the floor, cross-legged—there was very little space for him to sit. He looked around the room. "Still as messy as ever, I see."
"And what do you care? You disappeared years ago. I thought you were dead, you asshole! I mourned for you and Damon. We even began to fight against Danes after that day—even though my brothers and I originally decided to stay out of the fucking war bullshit!" Butch exclaimed angrily, releasing all of his built-up rage. It felt good to vent.
Vix looked down at the floor. "...I know. And I'm sorry."
Butch stopped ranting to stare at Vix incredulously. "...What?"
"I said, I'm sorry. I knew you guys would be worried about the fire and the charred remains. You'd be sad about Damon and me. I was hoping you guys would save me. Even though Damon told me he killed Tyrone, I was still desperate to leave Danes' side and rejoin you guys. I waited for so long but no one ever came to rescue me.
"Instead, I spent the years training under Danes' harsh but effective methods. I was punished when I didn't follow his orders with this artifact that weakens my Eye's powers. I was kept under constant vigil and guarded both day and night. Nobody trusted me. Not until I befriended Ross and his friends. Then there was hope. People would actually talk to me. By then I had already given up on the aspect of being rescued, and in time, the guards surrounding me decreased. Danes began to trust me, albeit mostly with his dirty work.
"Still, I felt more free than I ever had been. I didn't want to escape and leave behind my newfound friends. So I convinced myself that it was your guys' faults for never finding me. For never trying to save me. I gave into Danes' power. So now...I'm on his side. I guess I really did begin to hate you Rowdyruff Boys, yet also not. The attacks against you guys were both painful and enjoyable at the same time. It's the same with Damon. I hate him, and yet...I don't." Vix stopped talking to take a breather. "...Sorry; that was really stupid and long."
"No...it's okay. I guess I feel the same way." Butch frowned. "I didn't think about how you felt. You just seemed to hate us, and what with the attacks... I began to hate you too. Because you switched sides. Because you fight against us. Still...I miss the past. And I don't know if I want to stop supporting Damon or not. I still hate Danes, and I still miss Damon. But if he really did murder Tyrone..." Butch trailed off.
"Butch," Vix began gently, "now will you tell me what's happened to Brick?"
"Okay. But only because I hope it'll make you regret your stupid actions." Butch smirked weakly. "Well, Brick... He...He has amnesia."
Vix froze. "He...what?"
"You heard me. Amnesia. You knocked him unconscious for a few days, and after he woke up, he didn't remember anything. Not me, not my brothers, not you, not his name, not the past... Nothing."
"...Wow...I-I don't know what to say," Vix finally managed.
Butch shook his head. "Well, now you know. Just don't tell Danes."
"I won't. I may be your enemy, but I don't hate you enough for that."
"Thanks. That doesn't offer much comfort though, since you happen to be the asshole who hurt him," Butch chuckled, punching Vix in the arm. He paused, managing to smile a little. "Well...at least I feel like I understand you better now. Sorry we never went to rescue you. We...kind of thought you were...well, dead."
"...It's okay." Vix shrugged. "It can't be helped. The past is in the past. And we're still enemies right now."
"But just for tonight, we can be friends again," Butch answered. "Vix...will you tell me about the night Damon took you away? Apparently Ross thought that not only was Brick's amnesia not his place to tell you, he said that the night you were taken away was not his place to tell me."
Vix raised an eyebrow. "Wow. For a kid on Danes' side, he's got a lot of virtue. It's too bad he's such a good kid, and yet he's so skilled. So even though he's got Danes' pride, Danes won't use him for dirty work. That, and the fact he's Shamus' nephew and Tyrone's son. Ross would never have to do Danes' dirty work." Vix looked away. "...Unlike me. I'm Damon's adopted son. I may have gained their trust, but I still defend Damon occasionally and I was raised by him. So I am charged with dirty work."
Butch placed a hand on Vix's shoulder. "Sorry, man. I don't know what I can do, since tomorrow we'll be enemies again. But I'll keep this in mind." He paused. So...about the past...?"
"Right." Vix sighed, removing his eyepatch. The hidden eye glowed white. Vix pushed a hand up his hair, staring at the floor, his red hair blowing in a sudden breeze. "On the beginning of that night, December, Friday the 13th, and my birthday... It was also the night Danes finally found Damon and I was taken away from him—the night of the fire."
Butch didn't say anything as Vix paused. He just waited for the reminiscing teen to continue.
"Well, it all started on my birthday. Damon and I were waiting for you slowpoke Ruffs and there was a knock on the door..."
*(A/N: Reference to chapter 11!)
**(A/N: Reference to my fic "Hung Up on You"!)
ME: Not the most eventful chapter, but some information has been leaked between the characters. What will the results of this new knowledge be?
BUTCH: The hell did Ross mean by his comment of making a move?
ME: *smirks* I thought you said you were getting out of here.
BUTCH: *face reddens* Whatever. I just came back to tell you Braker wants everyone outside for the party.
ME: Okay, coming!
BUBBLES: Ooh, this'll be so much fun!
BANANA: If you say so.
BANDIT: I have a bad feeling about this.
BUNNY: I-I'm sure this'll be fun...?
BLOSSOM: Braker...are you sure this is safe?
BRAKER: Duh, of course I do!
BLISS: Launch those fireworks!
BRAKER: Celebration time! *blows kazoo as launches fireworks outside*
ME: Cheers, everyone! *raises glass* Have a good day and an even better year! Please review~ I'll stop here since this is already more than 9000 words haha. The longest chapter I've ever done is still "Hung Up on You"'s epilogue, which was 16000 words. I wonder if I'll ever beat that?