Call of the Wolves

by kuku88

"I'm not what you think I am," breathed the spiky, black-haired bad boy, leaning in. "Sure you aren't," she muttered, pushing him away. He raised an eyebrow. "That's what you think," he replied evenly. Rated T, R&R!

72. Chapter 72: A Wolf's Tears

CHAPTER 72: A WOLF'S TEARS

ME: Ha! I'm back!

BUTCH: Hey! And here I thought you were dead.

ME: Almost. I sure feel like it. *laughs* But you can't get rid of me that easily!

BRICK: Took you long enough.

ME: What, no witty response about how much you wish I hadn't come back?

BRICK: No. Even I need craziness in my life once in awhile to keep things interesting.

ME: Awwwww! Thanks Brick! *hugs and squeezes him*

BRICK: I TAKE IT BACK. I TAKE IT BACK—I HOPE YOU BURN IN A FIRE.

ME: I love you too!

BRICK: *eyes glow red* STOP TOUCHING ME.

BLOSSOM: Oh dear… Well, as I try to sort this out, be sure to read the new chapter and leave a review after!

Chapter 72: A Wolf's Tears

---

"It's been a long day," DJ muttered, stretching.

Darkai nodded but said nothing, too focused on the task at hand. He pulled the trigger and a bullet shot out, stabbing the wooden human-shaped target a few feet away. "Got him," he murmured.

"Nice shot," Ross commented, staring at the puncture hole. He sighed to himself, reloading his own gun. "How much longer do we have to do this for?"

"I don't know. Danes just kind of told us to practice our aim," replied DJ, aiming his weapon. He fired, hitting the stomach area, but missing the heart that Darkai had gotten. "Dammit."

"Looks like Darkai's still the better shot," remarked Ross.

"That's 22-14," the dark-haired boy added.

"Oh shut it. I can still catch up." DJ scowled. "How much is the head worth?"

"8 points, right?" Ross glanced at Darkai, who nodded.

"Fine. Watch and learn, kiddos." He aimed again and fired. "Ha! Headshot!"

"8 points it is then," Ross said. He paused. "Hey, guys…"

"Yeah?" The boy with the skull clip in his jet-black hair was reloading his gun.

"Don't you guys think this is weird?" he asked. "Danes called us here, but then he just dumped us and told us to keep practicing our shooting until told otherwise, but there's no one watching our progress or even making sure we're still practicing. Plus," he added, "we're missing like...half our friend group."

"Well, Vix is still missing, and Sidney got called away earlier… And I have no idea what Michael's doing," DJ responded.

Ross frowned, ready to tell his friends that Michael was actually in the mansion; he was just badly injured from having challenged Damon again. But before he could, Darkai stood up suddenly, causing both of his friends to turn to stare at him.

"What's wrong?" questioned DJ.

"Shhh," he hissed. "Someone's coming."

DJ sniffed the air, before his eyes widened. "It smells weird, like some kind of vampire that's been"—he paused, his nose crinkling in disgust—"rolling around in a wolf's cave."

"You're not too far off from the truth," a voice croaked.

"Michael!" gasped Ross, jumping up.

The door opened and in stumbled two people; Michael was leaning on the shoulder of a girl Ross recognized from the party celebrating his friend's return a few days ago: Cassandra. "Hey guys," he coughed.

"You look terrible," DJ said, rushing over. "And God, you reek like a wolf!"

Cassandra stiffened beside Michael, but relaxed when he replied, "That'd be Damon's ugly stench on me."

"Michael…" Ross paused, frowning as he folded his arms. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." When he looked up and noticed his friend's disapproving look, he sighed. "I mean...I'm better, okay? Better than before. Raymond fixed me up."

"What did you do?" DJ asked.

"I went to visit Damon. Get some answers." He sighed. "I was hoping to find my sister."

"Goddammit, Michael…" Ross shook his head. "You're always putting yourself in harm's way. What if you were killed? We've been worried sick!"

"You mean you've been worried sick," DJ corrected.

"Well, I mean I actually happen to care what happens to you!"

"I'm fine." He waved his friend's worry away. "Cassandra protected me."

"Her?" DJ repeated, looking like he didn't believe it.

She lifted her chin. "Yes."

"Yeah. What about it?" Michael furrowed his brow.

"She's… Well, she's...you know!" He held a hand to his mouth as if it would quiet his voice and shield him from Cassandra's hearing. "A human!"

She rolled her eyes.

"DJ, it's fine. She knows," Michael said tiredly.

The trio froze, with even Darkai's eyes widening briefly before they became half-lidded again. "WHAT!?" Ross and DJ cried.

"She knows," he repeated. "That I'm a vampire."

"I guess it really isn't much of a secret anymore," DJ said, being the first to break the silence.

Ross nodded, thinking back to how he'd told Buttercup that he was a vampire just a few days ago. "Yeah, I really can't say anything because my girlfriend knows too."

"Wait, seriously?" Michael blinked incredulously.

"What? I trust Bliss!" DJ exclaimed.

"You told your girlfriend too!?" he demanded.

"Oh. I didn't mention that. Oops." DJ smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "The question is, do you trust Cassandra?"

She stared down at the blond boy that she was helping. "Michael…?"

"I do," he stated. "She saved my life today."

"Damon definitely did a number on you. He's really strong." Ross frowned, feeling his stomach tie itself into a thousand uncomfortable little knots. "He could've killed you."

"But he didn't. I'm fine." Michael slid into one of the seats that lined the wall. "And I'm here now. Are you guys practicing shooting?"

"Because your uncle told us to," DJ confirmed. He fired his gun again. "Ah, shot to the arm."

"2 points." Darkai shot his own gun. "Headshot. 8 points."

"Dammit. I was being careless, you know. I can get more points if I'd been trying!"

"DJ," Michael said.

"What?" He turned back to him.

"Does my uncle know? That I went missing?"

He shrugged. "How should I know? He didn't say anything."

He frowned. "Because if he does, Raymond's going to be in so much trouble. Mom says she'd blame him no matter what if I was hurt again."*

"That's not very fair," Cassandra commented, furrowing her brow.

"No, it's not." He shook his head. "But there's no stopping my mom once she's on a rampage."

"Well, you don't have to worry about her right now. I'm pretty sure she's already gone on her mission," DJ said, firing another shot. He gritted his teeth once he saw the hole it had produced. "Dammit. That's a shot to the chest, but I missed the heart."

"I'm still in the lead," Darkai replied.

"I know that!"

"She and Dad's already left?" Michael's eyes widened. "Holy shit. I could've run into her and not even realized it! Thank God we got out of there when we did." He paused then, fretting. "But what if Damon opens his big fat mouth and says something!?"

"He probably knows you snuck out," Ross offered reassuringly. "Everyone knows how protective your parents are of their children."

"So protective, and yet…" Now Michael's eyes turned dark. "They still can't save us from everything."

"Michael?" DJ glanced back at him. "You okay, kid?"

"I'm fine," he sighed. "I was just thinking about Christie again. I tried to get her back twice now, and I failed both times." He shook his head. "I'm a failure."

"Well, don't worry about it too much."

He looked up in surprise. "What are you talking about? She's my sister, and she's missing. Of course I'm going to be worri—"

"I mean, try not to worry too much because it's going to cloud your judgement." DJ pulled the trigger and his bullet shot through the dummy's heart. "We're going to get her back. I swear it."

Michael stared at his friend. "DJ…" That's right. He used to have a crush on her. He still likes her a lot. Of course he wants to save her. He closed his eyes and smiled. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Jeez, Michael! Why are you crying?" the boy cried, startled.

"Sh-Shut up." He sniffled, wiping at his eyes. "I'm not crying."

"...Suuuure. And I'm not in the lead of our little game," he responded sarcastically.

"You're not." Darkai had shot his gun again, getting the target in the heart once more. "That's another 10 points for me."

"Oh come on!" DJ exclaimed, growling in frustration.

Cassandra perked up then, as if she'd just thought of something. "I'll go fetch some drinks for you guys," she offered.

"Ah, there's a bar if you head deeper in and turn left," Ross told her. He smiled warmly at her. "Thanks."

She smiled back, before disappearing in a hurry.

Michael smiled, still watching his two friends compete in their little game. "You guys are all dorks."

"No, we're hardworking soldiers," DJ corrected indignantly. "And we're all prepping for the war, unlike you, you lazy butt."

Before he could reply, the door opened once more and a new voice spoke, this one being more low and gruff: "DJ's right. You're all preparing for the war—specifically for the war against Damon."

"Uncle!" Michael jumped upwards before wincing. Ross rushed over, reaching out to support his friend.

"Michael, there you are." Danes turned his narrowed gray eyes toward his nephew. "Where have you been?"

"S-Sorry, Uncle. I was training by myself," he managed to say. "I got a little scratched up in the process."

He scrutinized the young boy, frowning. "A little scratched up?" he repeated, appearing a bit suspicious.

"Err, yeah—"

"It looks like you got dragged through hell," he said bluntly.

"—Yeah, yeah okay," he finished. "That's fair."

Danes turned back to the others, gazing at the bullet holes. "Good. You've been doing well, children."

"Can we stop now?" DJ asked.

"Yes. But keep preparing for the war effort. Start sharpening your blades and loading up your guns; start sparring and getting some exercise to stay in shape; and stay vigilant." The older man narrowed his cold gray eyes. "Things are getting serious."

"Uncle…"

"And we will be going after Damon soon." He turned away then, whisking out the door. "So be prepared."

The teens all glanced at one another as the man stalked out, and Cassandra reappeared with a tray of refreshing drinks.

"Jeez, your uncle's changed back into his usual scary self," DJ remarked as he grabbed a glass and thanked Cassandra.

"Since when was he not?" Michael shot back, arching an eyebrow.

He shrugged. "Well he wasn't for awhile, right? Danes was letting up a little. My dad said so."

He snorted. "What would your dad know about my uncle, anyway?"

"No, DJ's right," Ross added, also taking a drink and thanking the girl offering them. "Danes was definitely softening up a little. But he's back now."

"Well, if he really had become soft, it's probably just because he was putting on a face for my welcome back party," Michael muttered.

"But I think he really was happy to see you, even if he's not very good at showing it," Ross interjected, looking thoughtful.

"Yeah, and he's probably scared of what can happen now," agreed DJ. "But who can blame him?"

"Scared?" Michael repeated, scoffing. "I can't picture it."

"No, they're right."

They turned back toward the door, which now creaked open again and in stepped Deth Jackson Sr.

"Dad!" DJ gasped, before growing red. "Were you… Were you listening in on me and my friends!? That's so not cool! In fact, it's completely diabolical! How would you feel if I listened in on all of your conversations?"

"You know, I remember you doing that quite a bit," his father replied, eyes shimmering with amusement. As DJ pouted, he continued. "No, I just happened to hear the tail-end of your conversation," he clarified quickly, smiling sheepishly. "I was passing by, trying to catch Danes. He'd just hosted a meeting but he sure ran out pretty quickly after he was done." He sighed then. "And I thought we were getting back to normal, too…"

"Huh?"

He glanced back at them and smiled slightly. "Oh, never mind. It's nothing, children. I was just thinking that he'd started...opening up again recently, but he seems to be back on edge."

"That's my uncle for you." Michael shrugged, exasperated. "I don't know what you're all talking about, because when I look at him, all I see is a cold stone wall."

Deth Sr smiled. "That's definitely what he wants you to see," he murmured, before raising his voice. "When I look at him, I see the mountains. Strength and beauty, you know?"

"Beauty?" Michael repeated, spluttering in disbelief. "My uncle? Beautiful?"

"Oh, well...you know." He shrugged sheepishly, his face red. "There's beauty in strength, is what I mean."

"Jeez, Dad. You have such weird analogies for people," DJ said. "You dork."

"Indeed. And for you I see a little bratty bat," he remarked, reaching out and tousling his son's hair.

"Hey!" He pulled back and smoothed down his black locks.

"Anyway, you kids better get back to training. I'm going to see if I can still catch Danes, considering how he's still dealing with that fever of his*," Deth Sr said, shaking his head as he walked out the door. "I'll see you all later!"

"Bye!" the group chorused, except for DJ, who was muttering in annoyance as he tried to fix his hair.

"What now?" Ross asked, looking around as he sipped at his drink.

"Well, you heard them! We should continue training," DJ said.

"Aww, do we have to?" he whined. "I don't really feel like it."

"Sorry, bud. It's for the best." DJ smiled back slightly, before taking charge. "Let's do some sparring!"

The group agreed and they all travelled together to the training room with the sparring arena, where they quickly settled. Michael stood up, but Cassandra grabbed him and shook her head. "You're staying here," she told him.

He glanced at her in surprise, before sitting back down.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys headed to the changing rooms. They soon emerged, having abandoned the protective gear for weapons training for a more loose-fitting, sporty outfit. Ross was wearing a green no-sleeve with gray cargo shorts, while DJ wore a black t-shirt and red shorts. Darkai was dressed in all black.

The door opened and Ross' uncle walked into the room, his curly black hair bouncing. "Hey, boys! Are you here to spar?" Once they had nodded, he smiled. "Good. I'll officiate."

"Uncle Shamus!" Ross exclaimed, running over to hug him. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to be back." He hugged back, squeezing tightly. "I can't believe our last mission ran for so long. I was going to become crazy if I had to listen to Jamel and Coal bickering one more time."

His nephew laughed. "Well, I'm glad you're here now."

"Who's going first?" DJ asked, already stretching.

"I'll watch," Ross replied, sitting down beside Michael and Cassandra. "I'm good."

DJ looked up at Darkai and grinned. "Looks like it's you and me, buddy." He cracked his knuckles. "Good. I wouldn't mind getting my redemption by beating you in sparring, if not in shooting."

He simply nodded and headed for the arena. DJ scampered after him and the two faced one another, arms raised.

"Start!" Shamus commanded.

Unsurprisingly, DJ made the first move. He lunged toward Darkai and tackled the other boy, causing the two of them to skid backwards. Darkai pushed him away, before swinging his fist toward his head.

His opponent quickly ducked down to dodge the blow, before clapping his hands on the ground and then pushing up to kick Darkai in the chin.

"Ouch," Ross muttered, cringing.

The boy rubbed his chin and narrowed his ocean-blue eyes. He grabbed DJ's head and then kneed him in the stomach.

DJ staggered backwards, groaning. He didn't let it keep him down for long though, as he was ready to continue fighting pretty quickly. He rushed toward Darkai and began throwing punches, many that the other boy was able to block.

But one of the punches got through and hit Darkai in the face. Letting out a growl, he retaliated by spinning around and kicking DJ in the ear.

The two soon became a tangled mess, and eventually DJ had grabbed Darkai's wrist when the other teen was trying to disentangle himself from his opponent. Darkai grabbed DJ's arm in response, twisting and pushing down until a cracking noise sounded. When he let out a cry of pain, Darkai then pulled on him and kneed him in the face before grabbing his head with his free hand and shoving him down in a backwards flip.

DJ landed on his back, and his opponent did a lock on his arm involving pulling it back against Darkai's leg.

Shamus waited a few seconds before declaring, "Darkai wins!"

He let go of his friend, and DJ jumped up. "Damn! That fucking sucks!" he complained. "I can't believe I lost."

"I can." Michael smirked.

He shot him a glare. "Oh shut up." He turned back to his former opponent. "I was hoping to beat you to redeem myself from our shooting game. Why are you so good at all of this? It's not fair!"

Darkai shrugged.

"Ross, looks like you're up against Darkai now," Shamus called.

"Greaaaat…" His nephew stood up and made his way toward the arena, where the dark-haired boy was still standing. He held up his fists.

"Ready? Begin!" Shamus commanded.

Ross didn't make the first move, and so the two teens began circling one another. The brown-haired, green-eyed boy was trying to think of a strategy that would guarantee his survival, but before he could think of anything, Darkai struck first.

His leg shot outwards in a high kick, which Ross managed to avoid. He jumped back and then to the side, causing Darkai to chase after him.

"You can't always run, Ross!" his uncle warned.

"I know!" He continued running, before spotting a good time to fake another step forward, before actually lunging at Darkai and throwing a punch at his stomach.

Darkai grunted from the impact, now pulling back and spinning around to catch Ross in a punch, but the other boy ducked downwards. He wasn't free yet though, as Darkai then grabbed him by the arm and forcefully pulled him closer, allowing him to punch Ross in the face.

Groaning, he stumbled backwards and when he looked up, Darkai's foot had connected with his head. He stood there briefly, disorientated and dizzy.

"Defend yourself," hissed Darkai, already preparing for his next move.

Ross blocked the hook kick his friend had aimed at him, panting and trying to focus. He then lunged and punched Darkai in the face.

The other boy stumbled backwards, rubbing his face. He and Ross lunged at one another, and they became a heap on the floor, rolling around as each tried to pin down the other.

Finally, Ross landed on top of Darkai. The two stared at one another, panting and trying to catch their breaths.

"Ross wins!" Shamus called out.

"What!?" DJ jumped upwards. "Dammit, Darkai! You beat me! How could you not beat Ross!?"

As Ross let go and helped him up, Darkai didn't respond right away to DJ's demand. In the end, his only reply was a shrug.

"Jeez, now I look like an even bigger dunce," DJ whined.

"That's because you are one," Michael added.

Ross walked over, grabbing a towel and wiping his neck and face. "Don't think too much of it, DJ. Darkai's just pretty worn out."

"Or maybe you're having an off day," Michael suggested.

"You, be quiet," DJ commanded, flicking the blond boy in the forehead. When Michael stuck his tongue out at him, DJ turned back to Darkai and Ross, tossing the two of them their water bottles. "Well, I guess we're done sparring for the day! There's only three of us, after all."

"Make that four," a quiet voice called out.

The group looked up. "Sidney!" they cried.

He appeared in the doorframe, looking tired and a little roughed up. "Hey, guys." He smiled weakly.

"What happened to you?" asked Michael.

Sidney stared back at him. "I could ask the same about you," he replied.

"I trained a bit too roughly." He looked embarrassed now. "But again, what about you?"

"Danes sent my sister and I on a scouting mission, but we got caught. It didn't take long for us to get into a fight."

"Who were you fighting?" asked DJ, looking eager for juicy story details and any mention of violence.

"Sampson and Harry," he answered. "Kinley had reported that the two of them were meeting at the Townsville park, so Sydney and I were sent to watch."

The group didn't catch Cassandra's eyes widening at the mention of Sampson and Harry, and she intended to keep it that way. She cleared her throat. "How… How did that go?" she asked, her throat feeling dry. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, she begged silently. She didn't want her father to be hurt so soon after she herself had just woken from her coma.

He stared at her. "Guys…?" he questioned.

"Oh, it's okay." Michael shrugged. "She knows."

Shamus and Sidney looked surprised, but the shy boy nodded and kept going: "Well, I wouldn't say we won. We just managed to defend ourselves and get out of there before anything serious happened. Sydney got in a few good hits on Harry, but I had trouble dealing with Sampson. Worst I did was a kick to his face and a deep scratch down his arm. He got me on the back though." He turned around and the gang gasped. Sidney's shirt had been ripped through, and was splattered with blood.

Cassandra grimaced. Despite what he'd claimed, Sidney must have been a pretty serious opponent if her father was willing to go to such lengths to win.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sidney! You need to go see Raymond, stat!" Michael exclaimed.

Sidney nodded. "I-I know. I'll be okay though." He squeezed the pink jacket he was carrying in his arms.

They all nodded, before starting to chat with one another.

"Sampson is so ruthless," Michael commented. "Next time I see him, I'm going to claw his ears off for what he did to poor Sidney!"

"Sampson's usually a pretty good guy though," Ross said thoughtfully. "He's not known for often being in battle."

"So what? He's still the enemy, and you heard my uncle! We are at war! No mercy for the other side."

Cassandra was grimacing with each word, trying not to think about what would happen to either of them if Michael and her father were to really meet in combat. She wished she could defend her father's actions, but she knew saying anything would blow her cover and ruin her entire mission, so she was forced to keep quiet.

"Besides, there's no time for mercy," Michael continued, his voice dark. "And we have to be ready for anything."

The others exchanged looks, but all of them became determined and nodded.

"I'll bring Sidney to Raymond for treatment," Ross offered, already walking over to the shy boy. "Come on, Sid—let's get you some help."

"Thanks, Ross," he breathed, looking faint.

DJ turned to Darkai. "And I guess we'll continue sparring." He narrowed his eyes in determination. "I'm totally going to beat you this time."

"You can try," the other dark-haired boy replied as he walked back to the arena.

DJ ran after him, and Shamus followed to watch over the match. Cassandra and Michael stayed where they were, gazing out at the stage and awaiting the next fight. Cassandra glanced at the boy beside her. His turquoise eyes were dark and cast down at the ground, and he had his hands clasped together.

"Michael…?" she questioned.

He jerked his head upwards. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I…I'm fine."

She frowned. "Michael…"

His eyes darted away as he noticed disbelieving tone of her voice. "Look...there's no point in asking if you don't believe me," he finally responded. He sighed, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands together in front of his mouth. The look in his eyes was still dark. "You should know I'm not fine. I don't have to say it."

Taken aback just a bit, Cassandra managed to recover enough to reply. "That may be so, but it doesn't mean I'm not worried about you. There's not a lot I can say, but asking if you're okay is something that I can do."

"It's not of much use," he muttered. "Nothing is of much use, unless you can somehow bring my sister back."

She gazed out at the arena, where DJ and Darkai were exchanging blows. "You're right," she murmured. "It's not of much use. I'm not of much use. I can't bring your sister back."

He looked up in surprise.

"But I'm still here for you. And if you want to talk to me, you can. Because I understand your pain. Having a family member be taken away from you is something I can relate to, because...because I've lost someone too." She met his gaze, trying to ignore the terror that raged inside her heart. She was lying to him, but not completely. Her father had temporarily lost her to a coma for eighteen months, so he would know Michael's feelings better than anyone. And Cassandra had also been apart from her father for those eighteen months, despite not having been conscious.

And she didn't even have to get started on her mother, Rosemary.

"Cassandra…" Michael's eyes became watery, and soon tears were flowing down his face. He looked down, sniffling and wiping at the tears. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Michael?" she asked, startled by the sudden crying. "A-Are you okay?"

He smiled slightly. "I've already told you, haven't I? That I'm not okay." She opened her mouth to reply, but he looked up and his smile grew, despite the tears that streaked his cheeks. "But I'm grateful to you for being worried about me. Thank you. It means a lot to me."

Her gaze softened. "Oh, Michael…"

"I only have one question for you." He sniffed, wiping his eye one last time. "Could you answer it for me?"

She stiffened. Does he suspect me? "I'll try," she promised cautiously.

"That's all I can ask for, really," he agreed. He met her gaze. "I just wanted to ask why."

She blinked, surprised. This is not what I was expecting, she thought. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"Why are you so worried about me?" he pressed. "I appreciate it, I really do; but I don't really get it. We only just met recently, and yet you've already done so much for me. Why?"

"I...I told you. I can relate to you." She avoided his gaze. "The pain of missing someone you care a lot about is something I can understand."

"Oh. Well, thank you, I suppose." He seemed a little disappointed, and she wondered why.

"Well...I-I also happen to like you," she added suddenly.

Both of them froze, with him staring back at her. "Huh…?"

Her face burned. "I like you," she repeated. "B-Because you're a nice guy! A good friend. You know." She turned away, embarrassed by having to expand on what was originally simply an outburst, so as not to blow her cover.

He was staring at her, and she wondered if she'd just gone too far; raised his suspicion, and ruined her mission. But then he smiled. "Thank you." And this time, the thanks sounded much more genuine. It hadn't necessarily sounded fake before, but this time she could tell he really meant it.

"Y-You're welcome." She looked down. "We'll get your sister back. I promise."

He was still smiling, but she couldn't see. She also didn't hear the thought running through his head: Cassandra really is such a nice girl. But she did hear his next words: "I wonder if your parents would be worried that you've been out for so long?"

She looked up in surprise. "Oh! I-It's okay. I texted my dad and told him I'd be running late because I was with a friend, and we'd be getting dinner and a movie."

His eyes widened briefly, before he smiled again as he realized how far she was going for him. "I'm sorry you had to lie to your dad."

"It's okay. I don't mind." Cassandra tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, ignoring the churning nervousness within her that indicated that she did, in fact, mind. "And Dad doesn't mind too much either, as long as I come home safe." Again, a bit of a lie, but not a complete one. She gazed down at her hands, feeling guilty. "I...I guess I've been lying a lot lately."

"Well, maybe it doesn't have to be a lie," he offered, taking her hand. "I'll be more than happy to take you out for a dinner and a movie sometime, to pay you back for your kindness." He paused then. "But…maybe not as friends, you know?"

Her eyes widened in surprise and she blushed.

He smiled. "Aww. You know, you're really cute when you worry about me."

She looked up and smiled back slightly. "Then I must be cute all the time," she replied.

This time, Michael's eyes widened, but Cassandra was already standing up.

"Oh! Looks like DJ and Darkai are done their match. I'll go get some more drinks for all of us." She walked off quickly, internally freaking out and wondering why on Earth she'd decided to respond the way she had. I want Michael to trust me, but…it's not like what Damon said—is it? This is all pretty wrong. I'm already lying to him, but I don't want to deceive and manipulate him! I-I don't want him to love me… She stared at the bar, feeling conflicted. Do I…?

Meanwhile, Michael was staring after her, thinking his own thoughts. He smiled as he tilted his head to the side and rested his cheek on his fist. I'm glad she's on my side. He let out a breath, shaking his head. At least she's got my back throughout all of this.

Oh, Christie… You must be so scared and alone, while I'm here, doing nothing… But that won't be for much longer. I'll save you—I swear it. He narrowed his eyes. And I'll make Damon pay.

---

Ross watched as Raymond began treating Sidney's wounds, asking him questions about the mission.

"You say you were sent to track Sampson?"

"And Harry," he replied, his voice just barely below a squeak. It turned into an actual squeak when Raymond was a little too rough.

"Sorry," he apologized, before furrowing his brow and continuing: "But Sampson? Harry I get, but Sampson is usually pretty harmless."

"Err…" Sidney glanced back at him.

Raymond's face flushed red. "Well, usually harmless. When unprovoked, I mean."

"I wouldn't know. I've only ever faced him on the battlefield, and he doesn't take very kindly to vampires."

"You're right." The man's gaze was sad now, almost nostalgic but in a way where one would know they could never return to the past. "This war is really changing everything. And everyone."

"It changed Damon," Ross stated, the words being the first thing he'd said since telling Raymond of Sidney's position.

The older man froze, turning slowly toward the young boy. "Ross…?"

"He used to be different." He stared at his feet. "He was like my uncle."

"Ross…" Sidney's gaze was suddenly filled with pity. "It wasn't the war that changed him. It was his own jealousy and hatred of Tyrone."

He said nothing.

Raymond swallowed. "I… My brother's certainly changed...a lot, lately." He sighed. "He's different now. Everything is different."

"Yeah." Ross blinked, trying to fight back tears. "Really different."

Silence ensued, before Raymond broke it by asking, "A-Anyway, Sidney; does your sister need to be treated…?"

"I-I'm not sure," he stammered back. "She disappeared as soon as we got here."

Probably not wanting to run into me, Ross thought.

"I see," he murmured. "I suppose she wouldn't be very happy with me asking her if I could take a look at her, huh?"

"P-Probably not. Sorry, Raymond."

"That's alright, Sidney. I understand."

Ross continued to just watch, staring off into space as Raymond continued dressing his friend's wounds. As he sat there, his ears picked up two voices suddenly wandering through the halls past the infirmary.

"I'm just saying, if you're this badly injured, you should probably see a doctor."

His eyes widened. Buttercup!

"And I'm just saying—I'll be fine. I'm tougher than I look."

And Sydney? Together!? Ross felt like panicking.

Raymond's sharp hearing had picked up the voices as well, because he immediately left Sidney's side and pulled the infirmary door open. "Sydney!" he exclaimed.

Both girls jumped, turning to stare at the cloaked man.

"Oh my fucking God, don't scare me like that!" Sydney snapped after recovering and realizing who it was.

"S-Sorry," Raymond apologized sheepishly. "I've been treating your brother, and I was just wondering if you needed any treatment as well?"

She crinkled her nose. "Not from you, I don't."

"Who's he?" questioned Buttercup.

"A wolf." Sydney's eyes narrowed. "Let's go—"

"Sis, maybe you should let him take a look at you," her brother called out from his seat on the examination table.

"What?" she hissed, her gaze snapping toward him.

He grimaced. "I mean…we really don't want your injuries getting infected or anything…"

"I'll be fine. Unlike you, I'm stronger than this. I'm not going to give into letting someone like him treat me."

"Maybe you should let go of your prejudices for one night and just let him take a look?" Ross suggested. When the eyes of both girls immediately turned toward him, he instantly regretted speaking at all.

"Ross?" they both spluttered at the same time, looking equally shocked.

He shrank back, feeling small. "Hey."

"Wh-What are you doing here?" Sydney asked.

"I live here." Despite his awkwardness, he couldn't stop the snark in his tone. When he saw the frown on her face, he quickly snapped back to reality. "Sorry. But I mean…I still think you should let Raymond treat you."

"Why?" she asked.

"I'm the one who took Sidney here to be treated." He met her eyes. "Because I trust Raymond."

She stared back at him, before flushing and turning away. "F-Fine. You can take a look, but just...keep your claws mostly to yourself."

Raymond looked surprised, his eyes wide. But then he nodded quickly. "Of course."

She made her way to her brother on the examination table, while Buttercup sat down beside Ross. "Hey," she greeted.

He couldn't meet her gaze. "H-Hey."

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Ross…" She made a face as she folded her arms. "We've been over this."

He looked up, blinking in surprise as his mind returned to the present. "Right. Sorry." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "That was just instinct."

"Well, your instincts need to back off," Buttercup replied, sticking her tongue out. "Tell them you're my boyfriend now and you're allowed to open up to me."

He smiled in response, amused. "I don't think that's how they work, BC."

"Well, I think my way sort of works." She grinned at him. "If I can keep your mind off the bad things and make you smile, then you'll remember you don't have to keep those walls up around me anymore. Like right now, you know?"

"Huh… I guess you're right." The surprise faded and he leaned forward to give her a kiss. As he pulled back, he added, "Thank you."

Her face reddened. "Y-You're welcome."

"What's the matter now?" he teased. "You're always so ready to remind me that you're my girlfriend now, but you can't even handle a little kiss?"

"O-Of course I can! Let me show you."

He laughed. "Now this I'm okay with—"

"Shut up and kiss me," she interrupted, right before their lips connected.

Meanwhile, Sydney was staring at them from across the room, feeling something new and uncomfortable.

It kind of hurt.

"Are you alright?" Raymond asked.

"I'm fine." Her reply came quick; practiced and controlled, sharp and curt.

He met her eyes. "I didn't mean physically," he murmured.

Her own eyes widened and her gaze darted back toward Ross and Buttercup, who were laughing and chatting and cuddled up close… She sighed. "It's fine. He's happy."

"But are you?"

"That's… That's not of your concern. It's not of his either." She swallowed the lump in her throat, looking away. "It's not of anyone's concern."

"Perhaps, but it is of your own concern," he replied.

Sydney glanced at him in surprise, but he had returned to his work. She furrowed her brow and turned back toward the happy pair, her stomach twisting. They really are a couple…

The door to the infirmary was pushed open then, and a voice called out, "Ross? You still in here? We have a creep looking for you."

The boy being addressed raised his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth in a frown. "Who is it?"

"Say hello, wolf creep." The voice belonged to DJ, and he was shoving someone inside.

"Hey, watch it!" the newcomer snapped.

Buttercup's eyes widened. "Butch…?"

His head jerked toward her and he blinked, obviously not expecting her. "Buttercup?"

"Butch! How are you?" Ross asked, getting up and walking over to the green Ruff. He glanced at his friends, who were gathered in the doorway. "Sorry about the rough welcome."

"Yeah, no kidding," he muttered, stretching his arm.

"Butch," Raymond piped up from where he was stationed, his tone warm, "greetings."

"Hey, Ray." His green eyes had softened, but now they turned guarded again. He frowned at Buttercup. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I should be asking that about you!" she said indignantly. "I'm his girlfriend! Aren't I allowed to be here?"

"Yeah, well, I have business to discuss with him so can you like...mind your own business for five seconds?"

"What the hell, Butch! Why are you being such a jerk—?"

"Buttercup, please. Can you mind your own business for once in your life?" he interrupted, his voice sharp.

She paused, not expecting the harsh dismissal. But then her anger kicked in and her voice raised as she yelled, "Goddammit, Butch! I'm going to kick your ass!"

Her counterpart responded by ignoring her and instead pulling Ross aside, closer to where Sydney and Raymond were seated. The other girl strained to hear what they were whispering about, but she only managed to catch snippets.

"Look, I know it was your choice to tell her, but it was pretty unfair…"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry I caused you trouble, but I only did it because I care about her…"

A pause. "Do you… Do you love her?"

A similar pause. "I-I don't know yet. I think I do." Another pause, this time accompanied by a blush. "I do know like her a lot."

"Well, I guess that's close enough."

"I know I trust her."

"...I know." Dark-green eyes flicking toward Buttercup. "I do too."

"How do you feel about her?"

A surprised look in response. "What?"

"You know...you guys always seem close…"

A blush. "M-Maybe if you think constant fighting is a sign of love, but we're really just good friends that sometimes don't get along."

"I see." He looked down. "But...do you like her?"

Hesitation. "I...I trust her." Determination. "Like you do."

Ross nodded. "Okay. I'm...sorry again about the whole secret thing…"

"No, it's okay. She was bound to ask questions sooner or later. At least you threw her off," he responded. "She hasn't guessed what we are yet."

"Are you two done?" Buttercup demanded, stalking over.

Butch's eyes darkened. "Yes. We're finished."

"Good. Because I want to talk to my boyfriend now, thanks." She pulled Ross away, causing both boys to make eye contact before they were fully separated.

Sydney swallowed, staring at the green Rowdyruff Boy. She opened her mouth, wondering if she should do it, and whether or not she'd regret the decision either way. But before she could really think it over or stop herself, she called out, "Butch?"

Everyone in the room froze, all turning to stare at her. It was clear no one expected Sydney of all vampires to want to talk to Butch.

"Can I speak with you?" she asked.

He frowned. "Uhh...sure, I guess."

She was all too aware of Ross and Buttercup staring at them as Butch made his way over to her. The green Ruff cocked an eyebrow. "So...what is it?"

Sydney crinkled her nose, trying to ignore the smell she could catch radiating off of him.

He sensed her distaste, suddenly drawing his walls back up as he crossed his arms. "Jeez, way to make a guy feel welcome."

"You aren't welcome here," she replied.

"Welp. I know when I'm not wanted." He was already turning to leave, but Sydney spoke again, causing him to stop in his tracks.

"Butch, wait. Sorry." She took a deep breath. "Look, we both know we're enemies. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to talk about more...personal matters."

"And why should I?" he asked. "If we're already enemies on a surface level, why would I share details about my personal life?"

"I know you don't want to disclose any information to me that pertains to you yourself. But I'm not going to ask about you." She couldn't quite keep the contempt from entering her last word, and when he narrowed his eyes at her, she quickly added, "Sorry. Force of habit."

"Humph." He shifted weight onto his other leg. "So? What did you want to ask about?"

She glanced back at the other girl and guy pairing in the room, where the boy of the pair had his gaze flicking toward them every now and then. "It's about Ross." That very boy met her gaze, and he quickly looked away.

"Oh, of course it is." Butch rolled his eyes. "Everyone just loves Ross."

Sydney blushed, briefly wondering if his words rang true for her, but she quickly shook the thoughts off. "I was just wondering about your past with Buttercup. Does it...bother you that they're...together now?"

He turned to gaze at the couple. "Well...yeah." The tenseness in his shoulders loosened and he shrugged. "But then again, I'm worried about Buttercup. Things are getting tough in this war, and she's now entering the fray…"

"But are you worried only as a friend?"

He stared back at her. "Well, uhh…"

"Are you jealous of them?" she persisted.

His lips became a thin line as he looked down. "Maybe just a little bit," he admitted. "It's hard not to be. But...I've always seen Buttercup as a friend. It's…It's a weird feeling."

"Yeah… I know." Sydney also looked down, sighing. "Believe me, I know."

Butch lifted his head upwards in surprise, staring at her. "Do you really like Ross?"

She jerked back, unprepared for the question. "I-I… I don't know! He used to have a crush on me, and I turned him down. I don't know what I feel anymore. I'm just...sorry I never gave him a chance."

"You turned him down? Why? He's a nice guy."

Sydney's face reddened. "Why are you defending your rival? Look, it was a different time back then. I'm...not exactly proud of all of my past decisions, or of my past self. But that's all that it is: in the past."

"The past isn't something you can just ignore," he told her. "It's something you have to learn from."

Her eyes widened, before she recovered, scoffing. "Surprisingly wise words, despite what and who you are."

"Hey, I can be smart too." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, it doesn't exactly take a genius to be able to tell that past actions can and often will come back to haunt you." His gaze saddened then. "That's how it was for Damon."

At the mention of Damon, Sydney's hands balled into fists. "That disgusting wolf… I want to crush his skull with my own bare hands," she snarled out. "He doesn't deserve to live, not after everything he's done."

"Damon was still a human—"

"He was no human!" Her voice had risen a few octaves, causing strange looks to be cast their way. Sydney lowered her voice, repeating, "He was no human. He's a wolf. A monster."

"No." He shook his head. "I mean, he is all of that, but it's the human side of him that lost control to his feelings of bitterness and jealousy. The hatred that he felt for Tyrone, and the love he had for Sylvie. It was Damon's flawed, human side that was the beginning of his downfall."

Sydney was taken aback by his words, but now she drew back and closed her eyes. "Humph. You're smarter than I gave you credit for."

"We aren't good at controlling our feelings, Sydney. That's the human side of us. And humans can be ugly too. Humans aren't always...humane." Satisfied on having settled on the right word, he nodded. "And people give into their jealousy a lot."

She smirked. "So I guess you and I are in the same boat here," she suggested, folding her hands together. "Both of us are going to have to keep our envy in check."

"Well, that won't be a problem for me, but are you just admitting you really do like Ross and don't like seeing him with Buttercup?" he questioned, almost teasingly, as he arched an eyebrow.

Her face burnt red and she punched him. "Oh my fucking God, shut up, shut up, shut up! Take that back!"

Butch laughed. He was surprised that he was even sort of "getting along" with Sydney, considering her solid track record of hatred for his kind. He finally settled with a faint smile. "You know, I'm glad you asked to talk. You made me realize something."

"Yeah?" Now she was the one who had an eyebrow raised. "Don't get used to it now, because you know we're still enemies."

"I know." He smirked. "But that was just our human sides talking; our flawed sides. The sides where we don't live our lives as the supernatural."

"Huh. Yeah, I guess you're right." Sydney shrugged. "I guess not all of you are that bad."

"The same could be said for you, but I already knew that." He turned his gaze back to Ross. "Someone already proved that to me a long time ago."

"Ross is a pretty solid sign of the good in our people," she agreed, sounding almost wistful. "He doesn't let the war drag him down."

Butch glanced back at her. So she has a history with Ross… But she's lost her chance. He looked around. Like so many of these people, fighting in the war, forced to abandon all of their feelings of friendship and kinship and love… Forced to fight. So many people who have lost opportunities. His gaze hardened. I don't want to lose mine.

---

"You actually stayed put! Wow, isn't that nice?" Damon exclaimed, clapping his hands together gleefully. "Now I won't have to kill Christie and then chase you down!"

Vix shuddered. "Please don't hurt her," he pleaded.

Damon smirked. "You must really like this girl," he commented. "You've been quite protective of her."

"She's...She's grown on me," he admitted. "Just...keep her safe."

"Of course." The man smiled, and Vix couldn't quite tell if it was malevolent or not. "Christie will not die while she is with me—as long as she is with me, of course."

Vix stared down at his feet. He wasn't sure what to do now that he was awake and both he and Christie, the girl he was meant to protect, were being held captive by Damon. He'd failed in all definitions of the word. He hadn't even been able to keep Christie safe, the main reason why he had left Danes' household in the first place.

"Come now, don't look so sad," Damon cooed, placing his finger under Vix's chin and tilting the boy's head upwards. "It really doesn't become you, my son."

"Damon…"

"I have a task for you," he continued, his tone changing into something less kind as his gaze hardened. "And I require you to complete it. At all costs."

Vix hesitated, averting his gaze. "Okay…"

"I'm serious." When he looked back at the man, Damon's eyes were narrowed. "You have to complete this mission. Or else. It's life-or-death…"

I don't really care what happens to me anyway.

"...For Christie, anyway."

His eyes widened and he pulled back. "You promised! You said you wouldn't do anything to her!"

"No, I simply said she would not die." Damon smiled. "And well…you know what I'm implying."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would!" His eyes glowed, and Vix had a feeling he was telling the truth. "So...do we have a deal~?"

He hesitated for only a second more before nodding, hanging his head. He was already expecting the worst, but as long as it meant Christie would be safe… "Deal. I'll do anything you ask."

"Perfect!" Damon clapped his hands again, before pulling out a slip of paper. "Here; you'll need this."

Vix took it and stared at it. "This...is a shopping list," he stated in shock. "It's...just a regular shopping list."

"Well, yeah! I need to buy groceries too, you know." The man grinned back at him as Vix looked up, eyes wide with disbelief and fear. "I don't live on just the things I hunt. After all, I'm only human."

"I-I guess not." His grip tightened on the sheet of paper. "Okay, I'll do it."

"Great. But first...you're going to need a disguise."

Vix looked up in surprise once more, but before he could question Damon, the man had already grabbed him by the wrist and was dragging him inside.

"First, we're going to need to do something about your clothes. They're too...ancient Japan."

He glanced down at his kimono-like shirt and blinked. "Okay…"

"And your hair! Look at this mess. Jeez, Vix. You've really let yourself go, not having me as your father around to guide you." Damon had already pulled out some clothes. "Here, let's tie it up in a nice, high ponytail."

Vix's heart tightened at Damon's referral to himself as his "father", before blinking at the outfit the man had chosen for him. "Have you...always had that in your closet?"

"What? I'm not allowed to shop for my missing son? Shame on you, Vix!" He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and pushed down, making him sit on a stool in front of a mirror. Damon got to work, combing and brushing through Vix's long red locks. "So, my boy, how have you been?"

"I…" His hands tightened on his thighs. "You know how I've been. You recently captured me, after all." He stared down at his shaking hands. "Hell, you probably know better than I do. I've been unconscious for some of that time…"

Damon only smiled in response, before finishing pulling Vix's hair into a high ponytail. "Ta-dah!"

He stared into his reflection, but he wasn't looking at his hair. He was looking at him, and Damon—together again.

The man seemed to have sensed what he was thinking, because a small smile appeared on his face. "Just like old times." He then passed the bundle of clothing to the boy, dragging him up and shoving him. "Now go get changed!"

Vix stumbled into a separate room, beginning to pull his shirt off. He stared down at the outfit. It consisted of a button-up, a blue sweater with a chain of diamonds running across it in a pattern, and jeans. It was not close to his usual style at all.

The floor creaked then, and Vix spun around to see who it was approaching. From the two possibilities, the newcomer was not the one he'd expected. Because instead of brown hair and brown eyes and burn scars stretching across the face, this newcomer had long, blond hair and beautiful turquoise eyes. Vix's own green eyes grew large. "Ch-Christie…?"

"Vix…? Is that you?" She lifted her blindfold and stared at him, before realization struck and her face turned bright red as she quickly ducked out of the room. "OH MY GOD YOU'RE NAKED."

"I-I'm getting changed. And...I'm only half-naked," he said awkwardly.

Damon appeared, laughing. "My, what an encounter! Look at how flustered you two lovebirds are."

"You! You did this on purpose," Christie hissed. "You never leave my prison door unlocked."

"Of course this was on purpose, silly!" Damon's grin turned dark. "I would never let any of my prisoners escape."

She shuddered, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Time to head back down now," he said, herding her away. He glanced back. "And Vix?"

He looked up from the buttons on his button-up. He tried to ignore the fact that Christie had also glanced at him, only to blush and look away again. "Yeah?"

"Be careful." Then the door closed behind them.

As Vix continued to get changed and Christie was led back down to her room, she turned to face Damon. "What did you mean by that? Where are you sending him? It's not anywhere dangerous, is it?" Her voice rose as she continued: "You're not sending him to his death, are you!?"

"That," he said, smiling calmly, "is none of your concern."

Meanwhile, Vix finished pulling on the sweater and the jeans, and began making his way outside. He gripped the list tightly in his hand as he ran outside and began making his way toward Townsville. He made a beeline for the grocery store that he and his friends usually shopped at, kind of because it was familiar, but mostly because he half-hoped someone would spot him and recognize him.

Maybe then I can stage a rescue for Christie, he thought as he skidded inside. He looked around, before checking the list. The first thing on it was some tomatoes.

He made his way over to the bin, memories already resurfacing in his mind as he picked through the tomatoes. This is where I followed Christie after Michael had woken up and she was buying groceries for the celebration feast… I ended up catching her with Blaster, he remembered. We had a fight and he got really angry about my accusations of Christie maybe being in danger with him. He was so insistent that she was safe. And Banana Utonium of all people even appeared… And then…

His grip tightened around the tomato until it splattered and became mush in his hands. And then Blaster and Christie kissed for the first time.

Vix looked around. The store was mostly empty, and no employee was in sight. He wiped his hands and sheepishly got rid of the evidence, before choosing ripe tomatoes to put in his shopping bin. His mind continued to go through his memories of the grocery store—primarily those of Blaster and Christie.

And just the day before they met here and kissed, Christie had gone with Ross to this grocery store while he was shopping. She and Blaster then had an awkward encounter right here, right by these very tomatoes… Christie soon fainted from overexertion and Blaster had taken care of her.** Vix's chest tightened. He remembered how angry he'd been when he'd seen the scene play out. But back then, he hadn't realized what it meant.

He'd been jealous because he liked Christie—and he liked her a lot more than he'd initially realized.

I guess I wished I had been the one taking care of her. He sighed. And I still do. He also remembered later confronting Christie about it after she and Ross had gotten home, although he hadn't revealed that he'd followed them, only scolding her for leaving the house without him.

Vix now knew that in reality, he'd just been upset that she had been hanging out with Blaster. He shook his head. I'm not proud of my jealousy. It's the exact kind of behaviour I want to avoid. I can't turn out like Damon. His grip tightened on the bin. I want to end the war, not start another one.

"Uhh, sir…?"

Vix looked up, drawn out of his thoughts by the voice.

A teenage boy who looked a little younger than Vix was staring at him. "You're...kind of crumpling the box," he stated.

He looked back down, startled to see that his tight grip on the bin had crumpled the cardboard. "Oh! S-Sorry," he apologized, drawing his hands back.

"I guess it's alright." The employee checked on the fruits inside the giant cardboard box. "I didn't think anyone could ever be so concentrated on picking the best watermelon." He smiled slightly. "But usually they just...you know, pick one up and tap it, instead of staring so intensely at them."

Vix's face flushed red. "Sorry," he repeated, snatching up a watermelon. "I was just...thinking."

"And I think I got that," he chuckled.

"Err, yeah ahahaha...ha…" He trailed off uncomfortably. "A-Anyway, could you direct me to the aisle with vinegar in it?"

"Yeah, sure. It's over there in Aisle 2B," the boy replied, pointing at the said aisle with the sign hanging above it.

"Thanks, uhh…" He squinted at the boy's name tag. "Elias, is it?"

He nodded. "That's my name; don't wear it out." He smiled. "What's yours?"

"Err, it's—" He cut himself off, unsure if revealing his name was the best idea. But then he remembered his hopes of actually being recognized, so he decided, To hell with that! "It's Vix," he said, reaching out to shake the boy's hand.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Vix," Elias replied. "I guess I'll be seeing you around?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Or at least, I hope so.

"Maybe more than you expect," he added jokingly. When Vix stared at him in confusion, he added, "I just spotted a boy who looks really, really similar to you just two minutes ago. You two were even dressed pretty closely. Are you related by any chance?"

He shook his head. "Well, I guess I'll have to discover this guy for myself," he remarked. "Thanks for your help, Elias." He waved before quickly walking off.

Elias stared after him, frowning as he tilted his head to the side. "He was kind of cute," he mused. "Although...despite all that, he still didn't choose the best watermelon."

Meanwhile, Vix had made his way over to the vinegar aisle. He began looking through the different companies, soon settling on one and straightening as he put it in his cart. As he did so, he caught sight of a flash of red from the corner of his eye, causing him to spin around. The red had come from the very end of the aisle, away from the cashiers, but whoever it was couldn't have gone far.

Vix began following, thinking to Elias' mention of another boy in the grocery store who happened to really resemble him. As he glanced around at the different aisles, he spotted the person Elias had been talking about.

The boy was around Vix's age, and even around his height. He had green eyes and long red hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. He was wearing an orange sweater and gray pants. Perhaps the only thing that made them look any different was the fact that this boy wore glasses.

"Hello?" Vix called, making his way toward the boy.

He looked up in surprise. "Oh! Hello." He furrowed his brow. "Can I...help you?"

"Well, uhh…" Vix was starting to realize how dumb approaching this boy was, but it was too late to back down now. "An employee just asked me if I was related to a boy they said look a lot like me, so I looked around out of curiosity. And then I found you."

"Oh! Well, that's pretty cool." The stranger pushed their glasses higher up the bridge of their nose, analyzing and scrutinizing Vix. It made him feel naked, causing him to fidget in discomfort. "And I suppose we do look a lot alike."

"Yeah… We kind of do." Vix's grip tightened on his basket. "So...what's your name?"

"I'm Vincent," he said, holding his hand out with a smile. "And you are…?"

"I'm...Vix." He took the hand and shook it, trying to shake off the eerie feeling he had along with it.

"It's nice to meet you, Vix. I think I've actually heard stories about you, you know."

"You have?" He looked up in surprise.

"Yeah, from my friends! Michael, Ross, and the others… I'm sure you know who all of them are. From what I've heard, they're all your friends too."

"Yeah, they are." His eyes widened. "And I've probably heard some tales about you as well, now that I think about it."

Vincent laughed. "I guess I can be kind of forgettable, huh?"

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly. "It's...been a long time." His chest tightened. I haven't talked to those guys in forever.

"No, I don't blame you." Vincent picked up a cup of ramen noodles. "Anyway, how goes your shopping?"

"Alright, I guess. I still have some things on my list I need to grab."

"So do I! Let's finish up together," he suggested.

Vix nodded. "Sure. Sounds like fun." And not just fun, but it'll also help take my mind off of things, he added silently.

"Let's go then!" Vincent began leading the way down the aisle. "What's next on your list?"

"I have to get chicken," he reported, double-checking the slip of paper. "And you?"

"Some sushi! I guess Dad's starting to miss the more commercial side of life."

Vix paused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he's a pretty isolated guy, and he still enjoys hunting when he has an opportunity to. But even he craves more 'foreign' food sometimes"—Vincent chuckled—"if you can even call supermarket sushi foreign, that is."

"Ah. Yeah, I suppose cravings get the best of everyone," Vix agreed, thinking back to Damon. His list had asked for some pretty standard food items, although there were one or two things that were more commercial.

The two continued shopping, chatting consistently as they helped one another pick out the best items—from the cheapest yet most tasty sushi pack to the most fresh pieces of vegetables and fruit, the two got along pretty well throughout their trip.

"Are you shopping for one, or for more?" Vincent inquired as they looked through some frozen foods.

Vix picked out a carton of milk and tilted his head to the side. "For three, I guess." I mean, Damon better be feeding us.

"Oh, nice! I was going to ask if any of it was for a special someone, but if it's for three you're probably just shopping for family then, huh?"

"Uhh...yeah. Family." He blushed, but didn't tell Vincent how close he was to the truth.

The boy nodded. "That's nice. I'm shopping for four."

"You must have a pretty big family then," he remarked.

"Ehh, not really. Usually it's just my dad and I. But we do have some people over right now," he explained, dumping a bag of frozen pizza into his basket. "And I don't mind. It gets lonely with just the two of us."

Vix nodded. "I can imagine."

"Oh, look! I'm done my list," Vincent reported. "How about you?"

"Just one more item," he said, looking down. "And it's...wait, what?" His eyebrows shot upwards. It's blood. Damon wants me to get blood for Christie. "Oh… Err, I might have to get this somewhere else. So I guess I'm done here for the day too."

"Coolio! Let's go check out." The other boy led the way toward the cash registers, where Vix and he lined up to pay.

To Vix's surprise, their cashier was Elias. "Oh hey!" the boy greeted them as he began checking out Vincent's items. "I see you guys made friends after I asked Vix about you?"

Vincent nodded cheerfully, and Vix dipped his head.

"Nice." Elias placed all of Vincent's things in a bag. "Did you guys find all that you were looking for?"

"I did," Vincent replied cheerfully. "I don't think Vix did, though."

Vix forced a small smile. "Just a little thing that I couldn't find. I'm heading to the Batty Blood and Bone for this last particular item."

"I've never been there! It sounds sort of spooky," remarked Elias.

Vix shrugged. "It sells mostly meat. I guess the name is kind of much though. But I have fond memories there."

"And what about here?" the cashier asked with a smile. "Any nostalgia for this place?"

"Yup! This really is a nice store," Vincent commented, holding out a dollar bill. "In fact, I really do have some fond memories here…"

"That's cool. What about you, Vix?" He turned toward the other boy, who'd mostly been silent throughout the whole exchange.

"Oh, yeah. Real fond." If you count watching the girl I like with another boy, then sure. Reaaaaal fond.

Elias began work on Vix's items, and soon the two were all finished. "Well, see you guys around!" he called.

"Yeah, we'll probably be back soon," Vincent laughed.

"Bye!" Vix added, waving. The two of them then walked out the door—just as two people walked in.

Vix froze, recognizing the two coming in. He immediately felt panicked, his stomach twisting itself into knots as his head started spinning. He turned his head away to avoid being noticed, trying to remember how to breathe.

The boy of the newcomers bumped into him. "Oof," he said, his black hair flying into his ice-blue eyes. He brushed the hair back and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that."

"I-It's okay." Vix kept his head down, half-praying not to be recognized.

The girl with the boy had steadied her partner with her hand on his arm, and was now checking that he was okay. "You alright?"

"I'm fine, Bliss. Just a little graze," he replied cheerfully. "Now come on; let's get that shopping list for my papà done and over with."

The couple continued on their way as Vix watched them leave, before turning back to breathe a sigh of relief. Then he remembered that he wasn't alone, and that his companion was staring at him.

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You okay? You didn't seem like you were really enjoying yourself when talking about your past memories here, and then that happened…"

"Oh, you caught that?" His face flushed red. "Sorry. I just uhh...have some interesting memories here, I guess."

"Oh, I can relate! After all, everyone has different connections with a place, right?"

"Right—"

"It's not like all guys run into their crushes here while they're with someone else, right?"

"Right…?" Vix had been ready to agree with him again, but now he trailed off in confusion. "Wait, what?"

"Oops, sorry! Forget I said that part. Private matters right there," Vincent said quickly, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Never mind!"

"Err...okay…?"

"Anyway, meet my husky, Vixen!" The boy gestured down at their feet, where a dog was sitting, her tongue lolling out and her tail wagging in excitement. Her leash was tied to some bike racks. Vincent bent down and began ruffling her fur, cooing,"Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl? You're a good girl!"

Vix couldn't help but smile, also kneeling down to stroke the husky. She let out a bark, before sniffing at both of them. She sat down again, cocking her head to the side in what almost resembled confusion.

Vincent laughed. "I guess even old Vixy is having a hard time telling us apart. We really are like twins, huh?"

"Yeah, seems like it," he agreed. "That's so strange. Never would I have imagined I'd meet my doppelgänger here in little old Townsville."

"Right? Who knew, huh?" Vincent grinned. "But really, what were the odds? We both look alike, with red hair and similar clothes and green eyes, and our names both start with V…"

Vix nodded. "That's actually pretty weird," he chuckled. "Only the Powerpuff Girls have obvious, official counterparts in the Rowdyruff Boys, but who knows? Maybe we're each other's counterpart after all, or something."

"You know, I think you're closer to the truth than you realize," the other red-haired, green-eyed boy agreed, pushing his glasses up so that it shone in the sun. "How cool is that?"

"Pretty cool." He stood up then. "Well, I better be going. I guess I'll see you later, Vincent."

"Yeah, later!" He waved as Vix began walking away. Once the other boy was gone from his view, he looked down at Vixen. "Whether we're classified as counterparts or doppelgängers or twins, I sure felt a connection with that Vix. Didn't you?"

She let out a bark and he patted her on the head, grinning. "Let's go home now, girl. I have a new story to report to Dad over dinner!"

Meanwhile, as the two continued onwards, Vix was heading to his next location and thinking the encounter over in his head. Who would've thought, he mused, that a boy so similar to me could exist in this world? It's kind of eerie, actually.

After quite awhile of walking, he paused, catching a sudden scent in the breeze. He took a whiff and frowned, his eyes growing wide. Wait, that scent… It's…! He spun around, staring into the bushes, only one thought racing through his head: Oh my God.

---

After her call with Boomer, Bubbles felt a bit better about their relationship and where they stood on it, but many questions had still gone unanswered. While it was a bit comforting, it didn't offer a lot for herself to go off of.

Bubbles herself also wasn't really sure what she felt or where her feelings were going anymore, as her relationship with Sidney hadn't ended well and Boomer and her were on arguably even weirder terms.

She frowned. I confronted my fears and phoned Boomer, so I guess I should also call Sidney just to be fair. Now having found her resolve, she grabbed her phone and pressed dial on his number before she would lose the nerve. Soon she was left sitting there in uncomfortable silence as she waited for him to pick up.

As the wait time continued, her heartbeat sped up. By the time the phone told her Sidney was unavailable at the moment; please leave a message, her hands felt clammy and shaky as she simply pressed hang up.

She couldn't do it. She still couldn't do it.

Groaning, Bubbles lowered her head onto her pillow and let out a muffled, frustrated yell. She didn't want to just give up right then and there, but at the same time she did, as she couldn't bring herself to do it again.

For a few moments, she just lay there, contemplating whether or not to try again, when all of a sudden, her phone started ringing. Bubbles' head jerked upwards as she fumbled with her phone, trying to get a good grip on it to read the caller ID.

And of course it was Sidney calling.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm her nerves (not that it did much good), Bubbles picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, umm...Bubbles? You called me?" he questioned, sounding unsure. "I just wanted to check…"

"Oh, yeah; I did…" She mentally smacked herself.

"So umm… Did you want to talk to me? You didn't leave a message." He sounded even more unsure. "Was it...by accident?"

"No!" she said quickly. "I mean...no, I did want to call you. Sorry."

Sidney paused. "Oh, Bubbles… Why are you apologizing?"

The question caught her by surprise. "I...what?"

"I just meant...you don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I feel like I did," she mumbled, red-faced and embarrassed as she covered her face with her hand.

"Why?" he asked. She was mortified that he'd heard her.

"I…" She stopped, considering her words. I can't even say why, she realized. "I guess I just feel guilty about everything," she admitted.

"But you haven't done anything wrong—"

"No, I've made plenty of mistakes. I'm so horrible when it comes to my feelings about you. Remember when we were dating?"

He was silent for a bit, and she was afraid she'd caused bad memories to resurface. Way to go, Bubbles. You've just made him stop feeling bad for you.

But then he said something that surprised her: "Bubbles, you need to stop dwelling on that!"

"What…?"

"It's all in the past now. I forgive you for it." Sidney paused, before adding quietly, "You should too."

Her eyes watered and she looked down at her hands. "I...wish I could, but I made you feel put down and unimportant, something no one should do—not a girlfriend, and not a friend—it wasn't fair to you. And"—she hesitated—"it's what caused us to separate in the first place."

Sidney considered all of this, now silent on the other end. Then he said, "Maybe so, but you realized what you were doing and you did your best to make amends. It showed just how kind and sweet you are." He sighed softly. "Bubbles, I would never hold any of that against you. I still like you. A-A lot."

She froze, her eyes widening.

"But even then, maybe we just weren't meant to be. The separation made both of us grow as people, and things seem to have worked out alright despite it. I know you feel bad about it, but I'm glad it happened." He paused, before adding quickly, "Not the separation, but the whole experience! You know…a 'don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened' kind of ordeal…? Ohhhh I'll just stop talking."

The tears finally began escaping her eyes as her heart felt itself crack. The sudden excitement fizzled out with his last few words, and she only managed to bring herself to say, "Oh, Sidney… I'm so sorry…"

"Stop apologizing, silly," he whispered fondly. "It's okay."

The two soon said their goodbyes and Bubbles hung up, sitting on the bed with her knees to her chest, and her back against the wall. She stared forward. So Sidney did still like her, but it seemed that he only saw her as a friend now.

Maybe that's for the best. After all...he said it himself. And if he's moved on, I...I shouldn't keep holding on. She stared at her phone, which lay on her bed by her feet.

…But it's so hard not to.

Meanwhile, back at Michael's house, Sidney had gotten all of his wounds treated and had thanked Raymond profusely for the help. As he walked through the halls with his sister, he glanced back down at his phone a few times, letting out a sigh.

"Something on your mind?" Sydney asked.

He blinked, looking up. "Oh, well...yeah, I guess. I was just…" He trailed off, blushing. "I was just thinking of Bubbles."

"The girl who broke your heart?"

"She—" He stopped himself. He had been about to say "she didn't do that", but he wasn't so sure if that was true anymore. "You make her sound like she's so much worse than she really is," he finally managed to bring himself to say.

Sydney snorted. "I only say it the way I see it."

"But she's not the only one on this planet who's broken someone's heart—does that make all of them bad?"

His sister paused, now looking hesitant. "Maybe it does," she finally said.

His eyes widened. "Oh God, Sydney, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up the memory of Ross again."

"No...it's not like what happened was your fault. I did break his heart. I can't deny it." The guilt on her face made him feel even worse.

"That may be so, but you're not a bad person," Sidney insisted.

"Maybe not to you. But maybe to Ross, I am." She shrugged. "A-Anyway, you and Bubbles really need to sort out your issues."

"Well, sometimes I wonder if things are better this way," he replied, turning to stare out the window.

"How so?"

"With us being...you know, separated."

"But are you happy?" she pressed, raising an eyebrow.

He looked down. "I'm not...sad."

"But you're not happy, either."

"...No."

"Then I don't think you've got everything figured it just yet, Sidney." His sister sighed. "You and Bubbles need to be able to talk to one another, at the very least. I'm not asking you two to get back together, especially since you know my thoughts on your relationship. But I still don't think you should just leave it at that."

Sidney turned to stare at her in surprise. "Since when did you become so knowledgeable on this?"

She blushed. "Call it personal experience or whatever the heck you want," she mumbled back, "but I've had a chance to come to my own conclusions about this kind of thing."

"Oh, Sydney…"

"Hey, don't make this about me." She glowered back at him, wagging her finger. "Hey. Hey, stoooop it. Stop feeling so sorry for me. This is supposed to be about you."

Sidney smiled. "Thanks, sis. Thanks for being supportive."

Her face reddened. "Jeez, let's not make this all emotional and weird now. I can't handle the mushy stuff."

"Yeah, I know," he laughed. "You've never been good with the mushy stuff."

"I used to have to cover my eyes when we would watch any movie with romance in it. Remember that?" she replied, looking equally amused.

"What are you talking about? You still do."

"Har, har. Very funny." She punched his shoulder lightly. "And what about you? You used to hide from everything. You even hid from the vampires in the films! And we are vampires!"

"That's because they always make them so much scarier than they really are!" he objected. "We're not nearly so brainless and bloodthirsty as Hollywood would have you believe."

Sydney smirked. "Dork."

"Jerk." He smiled back. "Guess we'll always be like this, huh? The dork and the jerk."

"Yeah, guess so." She shook her head. "Unless one of us actually grows up first."

"I don't think that's happening anytime soon," he chuckled.

"But hey, speaking of growing up…" She nudged Sidney. "Guess who?"

He looked up, and his eyes widened in surprise. A girl was approaching, her eyes shining in the darkness of the mansion hallways. "Sophia…?"

"Hey, Sidney and Sydney." She smiled softly, stopping in front of the twins. "How are you?"

"Bloody but fine." Sydney smiled back. "I guess you could say...we're bloody fine?"

Sophia giggled. "I guess I could."

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out. His sister shot him a look.

Looking taken aback, she replied, "Danes called my father and I on a mission. We've just returned."

"Oh...well, it's nice to see you again."

"She's living with us right now, you dork." Sydney rolled her eyes. "You're making it sound like you haven't seen her in ages."

"But if you take in account the number of years we haven't seen her, then we—" He stopped himself, realizing how silly he was sounding. "Sorry. Sydney's right."

"That's okay." Sophia smiled sympathetically. "It's true that it's been a long time since we've seen each other, all things considered."

Just then, a man's voice began calling: "Sophia, darling! Where are you? It's time to head back now."

"Okay, Dad! I'm over here."

Her father joined the group and smiled at the twins. "Hey, kids! How are you?"

"Bloody but fine," Sidney replied.

And Sydney added, "Bloody fine!"

"I guess we're all pretty bloody fine," Mr. Carson agreed. "Let's go get some rest then."

Sidney nodded. "Yeah, let's."

"Here, I'll give you guys a ride," he continued, already leading the way down the stairs.

"Oh, there's no need for that!" Sidney cried, running after him. "We'll be fine flying!"

"Nonsense! The sun's not fully set yet—what if you burn your sensitive skin?" he insisted. "I'll drive."

Sydney hopped after him. "Hey, if you're offering!"

Her brother frowned, but said nothing more as he followed the group downstairs. They boarded the car, which Mr. Carson had borrowed from Sidney's dad.

"I call shotgun!" Sydney declared, jumping into the seat before anyone could object.

"Sydney!" Sidney blushed, now realizing that he'd have to sit with Sophia.

She gave him a small smile. "Looks like your sister wins that one."

"I-I guess." He sighed to himself as he opened the car door and slid into the seat, buckling the seatbelt and sitting awkwardly as Sophia did the same.

For a while the ride passed on in silence, until Sophia's dad asked, "So! Sidney and Sydney… I've been talking to your mom and dad, and they say both of you have been growing up big and strong really fast!"

"I guess so…" he mumbled.

"And I even heard you two were starting to show signs of interest in dating! Isn't that crazy? Time really does fly."

Sidney flushed red, hanging his head as his sister stared out of her window, her own face also red.

"Dad! You're embarrassing them," Sophia cried, looking mortified. "Guys, I'm so sorry."

"I-It's okay." He avoided his companion's gaze as he said it, trying not to imagine their reactions or their thoughts to his words. "He's… He's not wrong."

"See? I speak only the truth, and mostly out of innocent nostalgia!" Sophia's father grinned back at her, while she frowned in response.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, and when they all reached their destination, the twins thanked Mr. Carson for the ride. They entered the house together, where the scent of baked goods awaited them.

"Hey, muffins!" Sidney's father greeted them, his glasses sliding down his nose as he held up a tray of actual muffins, almost obscured by his giant pink oven mitts. "You're just in time!"

"Those smell delicious, Alex!" Mr. Carson said, sniffing the air gleefully.

Alex grinned, balancing the tray precariously with one hand as he used his other hand, still wearing the giant pink oven mitt, in an almost comical manner to nudge the glasses back up his nose. "Thanks, Craig. The missus and I have been busy for awhile now preparing these! Figured we could all use the distraction."

Sidney smiled, happy to escape his troubles for a bit at home and simply enjoy the warm company of family—

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

—And friends.

"I'll get it!" Sydney was already making her way toward the door, and she disappeared for a split second before she called out, "Uhh… Sidney? I think you need to see this."

Frowning, he walked out of the kitchen and asked, "What is it?" He looked up, before freezing.

"Err...yeah." His sister's gaze flicked from her back to the person standing in the doorway, their eyes wide.

"Bubbles?" he questioned, quickly walking toward her. "What are you doing here?"

She flinched, and Sidney tried to gather himself, afraid that he'd made her feel unwelcome. "I...thought we could talk," she said softly, causing him to have to strain to hear her. "We did on the phone, but I think we...still left a lot of things unsaid."

He stared back at her, wondering what he should do next. There was no way he could turn her away and decline the offer, but the idea of accepting terrified him so much more.

Sydney cleared her throat, causing him to jump. "Well, umm, sure! Of course—come right on in," he said quickly, stepping aside.

Bubbles floated inside and sniffed the air, her eyes brightening. "Are those cupcakes I smell?" she asked brightly.

"Muffins, actually," Sydney corrected dryly, walking past Bubbles back into the kitchen.

She paused, looking unsurely at Sidney, seemingly asking if she'd already messed something up.

He shook his head. "Don't mind my sister. She's always a little sarcastic." And a lot overprotective.

"Sidney, who was at the door?" his mother asked as he entered the room.

"It was Bubbles, and she'll be joining us for the muffins, if that's okay." He held his breath, a small part of him wishing his parents would say no, but the thought left as quickly as it came—his mental slap made sure of that.

His mother smiled. "Of course it's alright! The more the merrier." She set down a tray on the table. "Now careful, kids! They're very hot. And be sure to share!"

Sidney waited as the people around him all reached for a muffin, before picking one up himself at random, his head very much so elsewhere. When he bit into it, he was startled by the rougher texture, and he pulled away to study the muffin. It looked dented, especially with his bite mark, but in a sad way, with clear signs of being burnt.

"Oops, sorry, son." Alex appeared behind him, offering an apologetic smile. "Looks like that one's one of the bad apples."

"It's okay, Dad." He managed to muster a feeble smile as he set the muffin down, already reaching for another one.

The table ate in silence, it being blissful for some, and extremely awkward for others. Sidney himself ate only the one other muffin before calling it quits, as his stomach refused to stop doing flipflops.

"Aren't you going to have any more?" Sophia questioned, tilting her head at him.

Sydney let out what sounded like a cough, causing her brother to shoot her a look.

He turned back to Sophia and forced a smile. "I'm not very hungry."

"Boy, you must've been pretty upset about the burnt muffin," she offered jokingly. He only managed to smile back weakly, and noticing the silence, she held up her own muffin. "Here, you can have some of mine."

"No, thank you—I'm fine—"

"It's okay. I'm not very hungry either." She nudged it toward him, before nodding at it. "I think it'll do you good, considering the shape you're in."

He hesitated, staring down at the baked good. He could see that there was red in it, indicating that it was a blood muffin. And if he took it, it would help restore his strength a bit, considering all that he'd gone through with Sampson and Harry. His hesitation didn't last much longer as his body reminded him how achingly tired and injured they were, and he nodded gratefully. "Thank you," he said, picking it up and biting into it. Instant relief poured into his system as even the small amount of blood revitalized him.

"You can have some of mine too, if you'd like," Bubbles offered, her voice quick and almost jumbled.

He blinked, noticing that hers was a regular muffin (no one wanted her to accidentally stumble across the truth), and his stomach twisted again when his eyes took her in. "I'm good with this one, thanks," he replied politely.

Bubbles' eyes flashed hurt, but he couldn't understand why.

Beside him, Sydney let out another cough.

He shot her another look that demanded "what?" but she only shrugged in response.

"Allergies," she said innocently.

"Maybe she's just annoyed she can't have the last muffin," Craig Carson offered not-so-helpfully but oh-so-jokingly, smiling.

"You can have it," Sidney replied.

His twin made a face, but didn't protest as Bubbles handed it to her. She did, however, give the blue Puff a sympathetic look, one that Sidney did not miss. He wondered what that was all about.

Craig got up to talk with Alex and Samantha, and as the adults converged, the children were left to chat.

"That was delicious. Your parents bake so well, as always," Sophia remarked, smiling.

"Yes. They're just as good as I remember them from all of the many, many times I visited you," Bubbles blurted out.

Sydney drew in a sharp breath as Sidney blinked at the blond girl in confusion. Why did she say it like that? She's been here quite a few times, but she makes it sound like she's always here.

"Err, yes. I'm sure," Sophia responded, looking equally puzzled.

Bubbles herself now looked mortified, staring down at her lap, with her face bright red.

Sydney made a coughing noise and cleared her throat for perhaps the sixth time that night, raising an eyebrow at her brother when he glanced her way.

"Allergies again?" he asked wryly.

She kicked him in the shin, and he grimaced, trying not to show how painful it had really felt. She nodded at Bubbles, who still seemed rather miserable.

"Oh. Oh yeah." His shoulders fell and he stood up. "Umm...B-Bubbles."

Sophia and Bubbles both stared up at him, making him feel very, very self-conscious.

He motioned for her to follow him, and the two of them slipped into the hallway. He turned around to face her once he was sure they were out of earshot (and after he took a deep breath to calm his nerves and conjure up some confidence—but really, details, details). "You wanted to talk?"

She nodded, leaning against the wall. "You… You were right," she began slowly, not meeting his eyes. "I should stop dwelling on the past."

"Umm...right." He felt a stab at the words, but he knew that it was just his heart being unreasonable.

"It's hard not to though." She finally looked up and faced him, her voice quavering. "It's hard to let go."

He fell silent, scarf of the possibilities, before asking quietly, "What is it you want to say, Bubbles?"

She shivered, seemingly cold. His arms itched to reach out and hug her, almost instinctively—the way he used to when she was still his, and he was still hers.

Sidney practically drop-kicked the thoughts out of his head, especially since it looked like Bubbles was finally ready to clarify her intentions.

Her gaze flickered back to him. "I know what we said, but…I still miss you," she finally admitted.

His eyes widened. Aaaaand that is not what I was expecting at all.

"I get that the separation can make someone grow, but I feel like it's made you stronger where I keep getting weaker and weaker," she continued, shaking her head. Her face was bright red, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. "It's been really hard."

"Bubbles…"

"I...I just wanted you to know." She finally looked up at him.

Sidney swallowed. "Th-Thank you." He didn't know what else to say. "For telling me."

"I guess I just wish…" she trailed off, and he was afraid of what might be coming next.

"I'm just glad it happened," he blurted out before he could stop himself or think of anything else to say. When she froze, he blundered on, trying to find his point: "It was hard and sometimes sad, but I'm glad we got together. It was nice while it lasted, and I really do think it's one of those moments—the kind I mentioned in our phone call—the 'smile because it happened'. Because it really was amazing. Wh-While it lasted, of course. And now it's over, but that's okay. We can move on and become even better people than we already are, right? We can get even stronger." When he finished speaking, he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back out.

Bubbles was staring at him like he'd just grown three heads during his speech, and she didn't look quite as happy—or "bubbly"—as he wished. She just looked kind of…sad.

"Bubbles?" he questioned.

"...Right," she finally murmured.

"Bubbles, you know I still care about you, right? That I still like you?" Sidney tried to smile reassuringly at her. "I'm just not ready for anything else yet. I like being friends with you, and I don't want to mess that up. I'm happy."

She gazed back at him, before swallowing and saying more firmly, "Right. Of course."

He smiled, now relieved. "Oh thank God. I don't want you ever thinking that you don't mean a lot to me." He blushed then, adding softly, "Because you do." Then he quickly began walking back to the kitchen. "Now come on! Let's return to the party."

Bubbles watched him leave, before following him into the room. She watched as he was stopped by Sophia, who started talking to him with a look of concern on her face. She watched as Sidney laughed and scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly as he explained something. She watched as Sophia glanced her way.

Bubbles' face turned hot. He's happy. Without me. Especially without me. And he seems even happier when he's with her. Her heart sank. Maybe he's really, really right. Maybe we do need to move on, and he just so happens to have Sophia to do it with.

I guess it's true what they say. If you love someone, then let them go.

But...why is it so hard?

---

Darkai inhaled sharply, wiping his face and neck with the thick towel that Cassandra had provided him with. His breaths came fast and hard, and every muscle was still tense from his various sparring matches.

DJ was a determined little bat, and after the first two matches, he'd insisted on training some more. Even though Darkai wasn't one to feel strained under pressure, even he was beginning to tire by the time the pair was done.

"I hope that's the last one," Shamus said, passing the two boys a water bottle. "You've been at it long enough."

DJ screwed the lid off and took big gulps of the water, before setting it down and wiping his lips. "No way! I still have to beat Darkai in a sparring match."

"Jeez, don't you think you've lost enough?" Michael asked, half-teasingly.

"Take a break," Shamus added. "You're going to overwork yourself at this rate."

"But—!"

"No but's! You'll be of no use to us if you're too tired to fight in the actual war." He shook his head. "You need to channel this determination into the war."

DJ pouted. "Well, Darkai's my eternal rival. I need to improve and beat him first. After that, I'll know I can take on anyone and anything!"

"Even Braker?" Michael piped up. "I thought he was your eternal rival."

"Well…" He made a face. "That he is, but that doesn't mean he's a very good one. We all know who's the better man there. That's why Darkai is still an eternal rival of mine—because I actually have to strive to be better than him."

Michael glanced at Darkai, who seemed completely unaffected by their conversation. "I'm not so sure he feels the same way."

"I'll make him feel the same way!" DJ exclaimed, shaking his fist.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Dork."

He stuck his tongue out at his blond friend before turning back to Darkai. "Well, I guess that's the end of our matches today, then. While I'd like to keep going, our jackass friend Michael has just reminded me of the fact that I have a little date set up tonight with my girl."

Darkai shrugged in response. He didn't mind. He and Bunny also had a date, and he was more than okay with ending the fights for the day.

"I'll catch you dorks later," DJ said, standing back up. "I'm going to hit the showers and grab my dad."

"Good riddance," Michael muttered.

In response, DJ chucked his water bottle at him.

"Hey!"

"I heard that!" He stuck up his middle finger at the blond boy before sauntering off.

Michael let out a huff. "Can you believe that guy?"

Darkai only shrugged, before following his dark-haired friend toward the showers.

Once they were done, Darkai and DJ said their farewells before parting ways. He watched as DJ and his father waved to everyone goodbye and boarded their sleek, black limousine.

After the car disappeared, Michael's uncle Dadnes stopped waving and turned away. "Time to keep working," he muttered.

"I thought DJ's dad said you should be resting because of your fever," Michael commented, raising an eyebrow.

"What he doesn't know won't kill him." His uncle coughed then. "There's too much to do for rest—"

"DJ Sr gave me strict instructions to take care of you, Uncle. So no work yet. Go back to bed," Michael pressed, already nudging him away.

"Damn that DJ," he coughed again. "Always undermining my authority—"

"You're always too lenient on him for him to stop," his nephew replied. "Everyone knows he's your favourite and that he can get away with anything, so you're kind of undermining yourself, in a way."

Danes' face had turned reddish—perhaps from the fever. "He wouldn't listen to me anyways."

"But you're going to listen to him for now and rest." Michael paused, turning back to Darkai. "You going to be okay getting home by yourself?" he asked.

He nodded back. "I'll be fine. You just worry about your uncle."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

"'Later." He waited until they were gone before transforming into a bat and soaring up into the sky.

Darkai flew over the city of Townsville, beating his wings and contemplating the many things on his mind. His destination was the Utonium household, but of course he couldn't reach there in one go. He spotted a scuffle down below, and his curiosity was peaked almost immediately, causing him to swoop downwards until he could perch on an apartment staircase railing.

A man had another man cornered, and had a knife drawn to the victim's threat.

Darkai shifted on his perch, his wings ruffling as he let out a small hiss. He always hated criminal scum.

He dove downwards and manifested into a human from the shadows, walking out calmly. "Let him go," he commanded.

The man with the knife looked up, only to sneer. "And what you gonna do, kid? You's only a kid."

Darkai didn't respond, instead opting to rush forward and wrap his arm around the man's neck in a choke-hold, forcing his head upwards.

"Hey, what the!?" he spluttered, struggling against the hold.

The dark-haired teen looked down at the cowering man before him. "Run."

Not needing to be told twice, he dashed off. The man Darkai was subduing growled. "You son of a bitch! There goes my lunch money."

"What are you, a schoolyard bully?" he responded, before forcing the man's head down, smashing it into the concrete below their feet. Darkai watched as the man sank downward into the ground.

When he heard the sirens, he glanced up. The guy he'd let go must have called the cops. Smart man, he thought, before backing into the shadows once more.

As the policemen filed into the alleyway, Darkai flew out. He returned to the air, scanning the city for any more possible criminals or even vampires fighting with the enemy. But luckily for him, the rest of the trip was smooth sailing.

He turned back into a human in the shadows, before making his way toward the door and knocking.

Professor Utonium answered the door, looking pleasantly surprised. "Ah, hello, Darkai! Bunny's been waiting for you. I'll go fetch her for you."

He offered a small smile before nodding.

The Professor disappeared out the door and Darkai was left to stand there and wait. He gazed out at the scenery. The Powerpuff Girls lived modestly in a modest neighbourhood, but the house definitely stood out, with its distinct box shape and three iconic, circular windows.

The door soon opened again and out stepped Bunny, the girl he'd been waiting for. She was wearing a flowy purple top with a black skirt and had her brown hair down, unlike her usual ponytail. "Darkai!" she called, flying over to him and giving him a hug.

"Hi, Bunny." He leaned down to give her a kiss. "Shall we go?"

She nodded, taking his arm and letting herself be led away. "I'm so excited," she commented, smiling. "Although honestly, I'm surprised you agreed to do it."

"Anything for my little Bunny." He smiled back. "I know you've been pretty stressed out, so I just wanted to reassure you that I'm here for you."

"Aww, thanks. It really is sweet of you." She paused, giggling. "And this is just the perfect way for us to show each other that we care!"

"If you say so," he chuckled.

The two walked until they had reached Townsville Mall, and they began making their way inside.

"So, first stop—jeans?" Bunny asked.

He shrugged to say "no preference", so she just smiled and rolled her eyes, before pulling him along.

They entered a store for teens, especially popular with teenage girls, and began browsing. Feeling cheerful and more bold than usual, Bunny held up a pair of women's skinny jeans. "I bet these would look perfect on you!" she teased.

Darkai couldn't help but smile, despite how he wasn't one to emote much—Bunny definitely made him happier than he usually would be. "I think those would be much better on you."

"But if you wore these with some high heels, you'd honestly look so good."

He couldn't quite stop himself from snorting.

Bunny perked up, her eyes wide. "Did you just… Did you just snort?"

"No." He tried to keep the laughter out of his tone, looking away from her and pretending to be staring at some other jeans.

"Oh my gosh you totally did." She walked over to him from the other side of the clothing racks, and stood in front of him. "That's so cute."

He straightened his back. "I don't know what you're talking about," he coughed.

"I'm talking about your cute little snort," she replied, poking him in the nose.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." She tilted her head to the side. "And your legs, you know."

"I suppose I do have some pretty nice legs."

Bunny's eyes widened. "Did you just crack a joke?"

"Did I?"

"You did! You totally did!" She smiled and nuzzled into him, giggling. "I didn't know you were such a jokester."

There's a lot about me you don't know. He didn't say those words out loud though, opting to wrap his arms around her instead. He knew Bunny was already kind of weary about his secrets and the strain it put on their relationship, so he didn't want to remind her of that.

"Let's get you into some new clothes," she suggested, suddenly pulling away.

He wondered if she'd thought of it despite him trying not to mention it, but only nodded in response. They continued picking through jeans, trying to find the perfect pair—or pairs.

Soon Darkai had a whole bundle of pants in his arms, and he was being gently shoved toward the changing rooms.

As he headed in, he began changing. While shopping, they'd also found some shirts and jackets that Bunny had decided he needed to try on. He stopped on a black leather jacket with the dark-blue jeans, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

His face stared back, as cold and empty as it had been for the past few years.

Darkai himself didn't know the happy, emotive him anymore. Even he was too used to this cold, distant person facing him in the mirror.

He sighed, before stepping out of the changing room. "Bunny?" he called softly.

She looked up from where she was standing with a pile of clothes in her arms, and her face immediately lit up. "Oh wow, you look great!" she exclaimed, walking over to inspect him even closer.

He felt his face warm up and he managed a small smile. "Thank you."

"I guess we're buying the whole outfit then," she giggled. "It looks perfect."

He maintained the smile, and kept hold of it as she passed him some new clothes. Then he sighed silently before venturing back into the changing room.

Bunny paused, feeling as if she'd heard something…

Darkai later reemerged once more in another new outfit, to more praise from Bunny. He returned her smile before returning to getting changed.

This happened a few more times, and when he was on the last outfit, he paused again and took another good look at himself in the mirror. He hadn't pulled the new shirt on yet, and his chest and back lay exposed. Darkai blinked. Scars and scratches, some half-healed, covered his skin. He had more than he'd realized.

What…am I doing?

The words crossed his mind and wouldn't leave. They felt like sharp rocks, stabbing into his brain as he pulled the new shirt on. He closed his eyes, rubbing the area between them as he sighed to himself.

He finally came back out in the new clothes, and Bunny smiled and clapped. "This one looks even better than the last!" she proclaimed, before giggling softly. "I feel like we're going to end up buying all of them, and then our wallets are going to run dry."

Darkai tried to get himself to smile again, but it was harder than he'd expected. "Bunny…"

She looked up. "What's wrong? Do you not like it?"

Realizing that she was growing concerned, and that he was ruining her own fun, Darkai quickly forced the smile. "No, no, nothing like that. I just…" He trailed off.

Bunny paused, furrowing her brow. "It's not like Darkai to be unsure of what to say," she commented quietly.

The words pierced him like an arrow, and he stared back at her.

"I guess it's not really like Darkai to go shopping though, either," she sighed. "I'm sorry. Did I drag you into doing something you didn't want to do?"

"No." He shook his head. "I'm happy as long as you're happy."

"But what do you want?" she asked, walking over to him and brushing his hair out of his eyes with her hand. Her gaze was soft and filled with concern. "What does Darkai want to do?"

The question filled his mind but he couldn't fish out an answer. He only shook his head. "My wants aren't important."

"Darkai—"

"All that matters is that you are safe and happy." He placed his hand on top of hers. "And that's all that I want."

"Liar." She pulled her hand back. "That's not true at all. Everyone has their own wants and desires. If you're not having fun, just tell me."

"I—" He paused. Darkai never really had fun. He just did the things that his friends wanted and was content with their happiness. "I am."

Bunny frowned. "You hesitated. You're lying."

"I'm not." He pulled back as well. "I just don't usually consider my own feelings. Seeing my friends happy is all that I need."

"But doesn't it ever bother you?" she asked. "Just doing what they want?"

He shook his head, but couldn't quite bring himself to say an answer out loud.

"Darkai."

He looked up, taken aback by the firm tone.

"Talk to me."

He opened his mouth, before sighing and shaking his head. "I can't. I won't." He paused, staring down at the floor. "I don't."

"Darkai…" She moved over so that she was standing by his side again. "Why are you so down?"

"I'm not."

"I think you are," she said softly. "You keep sighing, you've gone quiet, and it's like you've withdrawn into yourself."

"I'm not unhappy."

"But you're not happy either."

Darkai paused. "Bunny… You should stop prodding. There are some things you shouldn't look into."

"But you're my boyfriend—of course I'm going to be worried if you're upset."

He looked at her almost in surprise, and she stared back defiantly, her cheeks red. Neither of them had officially stated they were dating until now—the relationship had just slowly progressed on its own. Darkai's gaze softened, and he reached out, taking Bunny's hand. He felt warmth well up inside of him as he gazed into her lavender eyes, but almost immediately after the feeling of love, came the feeling of caution.

He quickly drew his hand back and turned away. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm alright."

"Darkai…" Bunny swallowed. "What is it going to take to get you to lower your walls around me?"

He closed his eyes. He'd never lowered his walls around anyone. They'd been built ever since his parents had passed, and they'd stayed like that ever since. He never tried to tear them down, and his own friends had grown accustomed to what he was willing to share and what he wasn't. So why wasn't Bunny? Darkai sighed.

"You sighed again."

"I'm just…tired." He couldn't bring himself to look at her. There was this pain in his chest he wasn't entirely familiar with.

"...You're just like Bandit."

The words came slow but harsh, despite the quiet tone. It sounded almost accusing, and it felt like a stake being driven through his heart. He finally turned around to look at her, and realized that she was tearing up. The look hurt even more, and he suddenly realized just how dangerous it was to be around Bunny.

"You're just like him," she repeated. "You close me off and out… I thought you were more open, but I was wrong. You only open up the parts that you want and share those with me, and that just so happens to be the part of you that seems to love me. But every other part of you, I just don't know. You keep those under lock and key—and in some ways, you're even more cautious than Bandit is." She sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I was just too blind and stupid and in love to realize it."

"Bunny…" He wondered why the pain was suddenly so unbearable; unlike any wound he'd ever suffered. He swallowed, before grabbing her and kissing her. The kiss was rougher than he'd meant it to be, and Bunny didn't respond right away like she usually would.

Her eyes widened and for a moment everything was still, but then she quickly shoved against his chest and pushed him away.

He pulled back, startled by the sudden force, before realization struck. "Bunny, I-I'm sor—"

"Stop it!" she cried. "Stop acting like things are still okay."

"I didn't mean to."

She shook her head. "Never mind. Let's just buy these clothes and go. It's obvious you didn't have as much fun as I did."

"That's not true. I was having fun. But I had to wonder what I was doing with my time," he responded. Even saying those words out loud made him feel like his walls were crumbling down all around him, leaving him exposed.

Bunny froze, having gathered a lot of the clothes in her arms. "What…?" She turned around. "You had fun but you were questioning if it was worth it?"

"There's just so much to do—"

"Well, what do you want to be doing?" she questioned.

He paused. He couldn't say it out loud. His job of catching criminals and fighting in the war weren't things he could just tell someone. Darkai didn't talk about his parents' death or the fact that he was a vampire. So he definitely didn't usually talk about his feelings. Bunny had let him break one of those rules, but he wasn't so sure about breaking any more of them. "I…just have personal things I need to attend to," he stated, before noticing her expression fall. "It doesn't really matter—"

"Then fine. Don't say anything," she interrupted. "And Darkai?"

He looked up.

"It's good to rewind sometimes. I just wish you knew that." Then she spun around and stalked off.

Darkai sighed. He hated feeling like this. Powerless and exposed—like his walls couldn't protect him anymore. And as sorry and guilty as he was, he knew he had to refortify those walls, even if it upset her. But at least in his mind, he could say the words he couldn't say out loud: You really do mean the world to me, but there are some things I just can't share.

I'm sorry, Bunny.

---

"Why do you look so miserable?"

The question made her look up. "Oh, sorry, DJ. My mind's just been heavy with something else."

"Now this is bad." He pouted. "Your head should always be filled with me."

Despite her mood, she couldn't help but giggle. "Sorry, not sorry."

He pouted a few seconds more, but then he turned solemn. He cocked his head to the side and frowned, eyebrows creased. "But in all seriousness, you should never have to feel weighed down by anything. You're my Bliss, and that means you should always deserve to be happy."

She smiled. "It's a nice thought, but I'm afraid even I can still feel upset."

"What upset you?"

She hesitated for a split second before sighing in response. "Braker."

DJ's eyes immediately narrowed. "Of course it was him. Look, I'll beat him up for you if you need me to."

"No! No beating him up. No hurting him," she said quickly.

He let out a huff, leaning back against his chair and folding his arms. "And here I was, looking very forward to hurting him."

"That's the last thing we need," she responded, smiling slightly.

DJ smiled back, before frowning. "But what did he do that upset you so?"

"He…" She hesitated again.

"I'm sensing a pattern here," he remarked.

Bliss sighed. "It's nothing. He didn't do anything bad." She wrapped her arms around herself and looked down. "I think I did."

His eyes widened and he moved so that he was right in front of her, kneeling down before her. "Bliss… I want to help you feel better. But I can't if I don't know what's wrong," he offered.

She still didn't answer in words, just shaking her head.

He made a face. "Oh, I see. Double-standards, much?"

When Bliss looked up, taken aback by the words, DJ was making a silly face. She couldn't help but giggle. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you make me reveal a secret of mine, as if me having secrets from my girlfriend is such a bad thing to do, but you can totally have secrets from me, your boyfriend? I don't think that's quite right!"

Bliss managed a smile. "You dork," she said, flicking him in the forehead. But then she paused and sighed. "Although…you do have a point."

DJ raised an eyebrow, rubbing his now somewhat sore forehead.

"Fine. I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out," she said, wagging a finger at him. "Deal?"

He frowned, but then he nodded. "Deal."

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "So…umm… Brakerconfessedtome," she explained really quickly.

"He…what?" DJ stared back at her in confusion, the words not registering right away.

Bliss shrugged, not really wanting to repeat it, but luckily for her, she didn't have to.

Understanding dawned and DJ's eyes widened. "He…what!?" he repeated, but this time he clearly knew exactly what Braker did. He jumped up. "That's unforgivable!"

"DJ!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "You promised you wouldn't overreact! You're acting like he violated me or something."

"And he did! He asked you out when you're clearly my girlfriend?"

"Reminder that I wasn't your girlfriend for awhile," she corrected. "When he confessed to me, you and I had just gotten back together."

"Oh. Right." DJ sighed and flopped back down into his seat. "But you can't blame me for being a little upset. I only just got you back, and I never really stopped thinking of you as my girlfriend during that time."

"Aww. That's sweet of you," Bliss giggled, poking him in the side.

He pulled back a little, snorting. "Hey!"

Bliss paused, raising an eyebrow. "Are you ticklish…?"

"So what if I am?" he retorted, his face flushing. "Don't you get any ideas now."

"Oh, I am certainly getting ideas, but don't worry." She smiled mischievously, putting her hands behind her back. "I won't act on them. At least for now."

"Good," he responded, pulling closer again. "Because otherwise I'd have started avoiding you, and that's the last thing I want."

"Well aren't you a charmer?"

"That I am." He smirked, and soon his lips were on hers and they were kissing, arms wrapped around one another.

When Bliss pulled back, she shook her head. "Wow," she said.

"Yeah. Wow." DJ grinned. He leaned closer. "You know, we could—"

"Hey, il figlio!" The door to DJ's room slammed open and the boy jumped into the air, scrambling backwards. Bliss also jolted, turning toward the intrusion with wide, startled eyes.

"DAD!" DJ exclaimed, once he realized who the interruption was. "Can you not!?"

DJ Sr grinned, staring down at the two teens. "Aww, look at you two adorable lovebirds~ How sweet! Reminds me of when I was your age."

"Oh God. Here we go," his son muttered.

"You know, I was quite a looker back then… A real flirt too, if you know what I mean. Everyone loved me."

"Yeah, papà, we know." DJ rolled his eyes. "You charmed a whole bunch of women, blah blah blah. So many people loved you."

"True." His father grinned. "But you know, it wasn't just those women."

"There was Mom too, right?"

DJ Sr's face faltered for a second, but soon he was right back to smiling. "Yes, of course. There was your mother, and some other certain special someone's in my life~"

"Eww, gross! I don't need to hear about all those other women," he responded, while Bliss giggled.

"You're definitely your son's father," she said. "I can see how he takes after you."

"I do not!" he protested, while his father smiled back at the teen girl.

"Indeed he is," he sighed happily. "But alright. I'll leave you two alone now. Just keep things PG, okay?"

"Daaaad!" he whined. "Just leave already!"

"Okay, okay. But I wanted to tell you that your uncle Slicer wants you to go out for some groceries." DJ Sr winked. "So you better get going on that."

As his son grumbled, he shut the door behind him and smiled to himself. "Of course, it wasn't always just women I won over." He paused, before sighing wistfully. "And your mother wasn't the only one I ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with, DJ."

Meanwhile, DJ was ranting to Bliss about his father. "He's an embarrassment," he groaned, throwing his hands into the air. "He listens in on my conversations, acts like he's still a teen, and tries to be all 'cool' and 'hip'."

She giggled. "He's exactly what I'd imagine you like as a father."

"God, I hope not." DJ let out a grumpy huff, folding his arms. But then his face brightened and he turned to Bliss. "But you know, I wouldn't mind being the father of your kids."

"Hey." She placed a finger on his lips. "It's way too early for that, hotshot. And remember what your father said: keep things PG!"

"Dammit! My papà always ruins everything." He dramatically crossed his arms until his shoulders were raised to his ears and his bottom lip was stuck out and quivering. He held the pose for a second, before he burst out laughing. "But no, of course I wouldn't pressure you into anything like that, Bliss! You're right. It is way too soon for that."

She smiled back, partly in good humour and partly in relief. "Of course it is, silly."

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he continued. "I just saw an opportunity for a joke and I took it."

"You're such a clown," she remarked, patting him on the face once.

"Hey, that's abuse, you know," he responded, catching her wrist.

Bliss rolled her eyes and smiled, standing up and pulling him up along with her. "Now come on. I'll help you tackle that shopping list of yours."

He nodded, and the two walked out of his room, holding hands.

As both of them descended the stairs, DJ Sr looked up from his seat in the living room table with a newspaper and grinned. "Look who have decided to grace us with their presence, dear brother!" he called out.

Slicer looked up from where he was standing, having been vacuuming the floor. He shut the device off and stood, arms folded.

"Dad, you literally just saw us a minute ago," DJ said, sounding almost accusing as he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Bliss and I are going to tackle that shopping list now."

"Good, good." His father nodded, before turning to his brother. "Slicer? The list?"

The other man held the sheet of paper out toward DJ as the boy made it to the bottom of the staircase. He grabbed it and his uncle said, "I will be driving you."

DJ nodded, while Bliss fidgeted in discomfort. She'd gotten used to Slicer's tall, hulking build that often lingered behind both father and son, but his voice was still intimidating. It sounded rough and often unused, like steel on steel—the sound of knives being sharpened.

The trio boarded the limo with DJ Sr waving goodbye. As the car pulled out of the garage, DJ asked, "Why isn't he tackling it? What the hell does Papà plan on doing all day?"

Slicer simply replied, "He has some business to attend to."

And that was the end of that conversation.

The two later got off the car and DJ told Slicer to come back in an hour or so, before the two of them headed into the supermarket. The door slid open automatically for them, and they walked inside.

"What are we looking for first?" Bliss asked.

DJ studied the list, still walking. "Looks like—oof!"

He crashed into someone else, and stumbled backwards. Bliss caught him with her hand. He looked up, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Two boys, looking almost like identical twins, stared back at him. Both had red hair and green eyes, and were wearing sweaters—the only difference was that one had glasses and the other didn't. The one he'd crashed into had wide eyes (without the glasses), and now quickly looked away.

DJ offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that," he said.

"I-It's okay," the boy mumbled.

"You alright?" Bliss asked her boyfriend.

"I'm fine, Bliss. Just a little graze," he replied cheerfully. "Now come on; let's get that shopping list for my papà done and over with." He reached out and took her hand, before leading the way into the supermarket, leaving both of the strange redheaded boys behind…in both reality and memory.

"So what's first?" Bliss asked again. She smiled. "And this time, without the crashing."

"Right." He glanced down at the list. "Looks like pizza is up first." He rolled his eyes. "My dad is so stereotypical. Playing into the stereotype that Italians love pizza."

His girlfriend smirked. "Oh come on, DJ. Don't be so hard on your old man. Because honestly, who doesn't love pizza?"

"I guess you're right." He smiled. "Alright. Let's go to the frozen foods aisle then."

"Way ahead of you!" she giggled, before blasting off with her orange streak behind her.

"Hey, no fair!" he called out, chasing after her. "I don't have superpowers, you know!"

"I know! That's what makes this fun!" she responded cheerfully, floating in the air as she grinned back at him. "Now come on; let's get some pizza!"

The two continued their shopping, laughing and chatting as they played around. When they finally had every single thing crossed off the list, they headed toward checkout.

"There's more people here than I expected," Bliss remarked, floating in place.

DJ nodded. "It's a small market, but still fairly well-known." Speaking of well-known… he thought, looking around. He was overtly aware of all the people gathered around them, staring at his girlfriend in awe and wonder. She was a celebrity, after all. DJ may be popular in his own circle, and at school, but Bliss was famous. And he was starting to realize how hard it was to be inconspicuous when with her, not that he really minded…

"Oh hi, Bliss!" the cashier said cheerfully, reaching out to grab the first item laid out before him.

Bliss' face brightened. "Oh my gosh, hey, Elias! I didn't realize you worked here!"

DJ snapped back to the present, having heard the happy exchange. He cleared his throat.

"Oh, right. Elias, this is DJ! DJ, this is Elias," Bliss explained, introducing them to one another.

"Bliss' boyfriend," DJ clarified, smiling charmingly.

The boy blinked, before smiling shyly. "Hey," he greeted, holding his hand out. "I'm Elias—but umm, Bliss just said that."

She giggled. "You're as awkward as ever, Ellie." She turned to DJ and continued to explain: "He's on Bubbles' cheer squad, so we know each other because of that."

"Bliss is friends with almost everyone anyway," Elias added.

"Ah, I see! Nice to meet you." DJ smiled again. He remembered this guy now—Princess had spoken to him about Elias a few times, neither of them knowing the boy's name. Princess simply always commented on how cute he was—and DJ had to agree that she was right. He was rather attractive, with tan skin and curly hair, and golden eyes.

"This is nice," Elias remarked, continuing his job. "Running into friends, both old and new! I just met two people a little bit before you guys that I managed to befriend."

"Who were they?" DJ asked absently, watching as he bagged their items.

"Oh, shoot. I'm always terrible with names." The other boy paused. "They both started with a V… And they even looked like twins."

DJ blinked.

"Really similar too, even though they'd never met before. But both had red hair and green eyes… What were their names again?"

He gasped. "Vix?"

"Yeah, one of them!" Elias said, snapping his fingers. "Now I remember! The other one was Vincent."

I know both of those boys! he thought. "Did they say where they were headed? Or anything like that?" he demanded, pulling out his debit card.

Frowning, Elias shrugged, seemingly a little put-off by DJ's sudden intensity. "Err, I think so… Sorry, just give me a second." He paused, closing his eyes, before opening them again. "Shoot. I can't remember." He paused, looking apologetic. "Really sorry."

DJ's shoulders deflated. "That's okay. Thanks anyway."

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, they said they'd probably come back soon." Elias offered a comforting smile.

"That's too bad," Bliss added. "Did you really need to talk to this Vix guy?"

He nodded. "A lot." He sighed then, before glancing down at all their bagged items and beginning to pick all of them up. "Oh well. Guess we should get going. We still have one more item on our list."

"What is it?" Bliss asked, floating after him. "It can't be found here?"

He shook his head. "We'd have to go to the Batty Blood and Bone for this one."

"Hey, wait!" Elias called, snapping his fingers. "I just remembered now! Vix was also headed to the Batty Blood and Bone. I've never been, and I remember saying it sounded kind of eerie."

DJ's eyes widened, and his face lit up almost immediately. "Holy shit, thanks!" he exclaimed, before running out of the store.

Elias watched him go, brushing stray strands of reddish-brown hair out of his face. "He really wanted to talk to that Vix guy. And he seemed nice too. I wonder if the Batty Blood and Bone is a really cool place to be?" he murmured as he returned to his job.

Meanwhile, Bliss was flying after her boyfriend, calling out, "DJ! Can you tell me what's going on!?"

"Okay, so—you want to know what the last item on our list is?" he called back.

"If it's important, then I guess so, yeah!"

"It's blood! We need to get blood for future feeding," he replied. "Batty Blood and Bone is one of the main providers of blood for civilized vampires."

"Oh!" Bliss' eyes widened. "I guess the name is kind of on-the-nose!"

"It's disguised as a meat shop," he explained. "And vampires all over Townsville go there to get their blood samples when they're not getting donations from doctors and other citizens. It's like a blood bank, but for vampires."

"And your friend Vix is headed toward it?"

"Seems so!"

The two continued on in silent determination and excitement (especially for DJ, who was having trouble breathing), until they reached the shop. He skidded to a stop and felt his heartbeat quicken even more. It had been so long since he'd last seen Vix, and he missed his friend. He still believed in the boy's innocence, but Vix taking a leisurely stroll to buy some food definitely contradicted the idea that he was actually a prisoner.

Whatever is going on, if I catch him, then I can get him to explain his situation to me. And hopefully it's not one that will damage his reputation forever, he thought as he approached the doors. DJ took a deep breath to calm his nerves, before grabbing ahold of the handle and turning it.

He pushed the door open and peeked inside. "Hello?" he called out.

There was a rush of cold air and suddenly a tall man was before them, with slicked back black hair and a goatee. His eyes were a warm brown, and he was dressed in black with a white apron. "Hello, my little children," he greeted them, his voice heavy with a Transylvanian accent. "DJ! How may I help you today?"

"I'd probably guess this guy was a vampire even if I didn't know or believe vampires existed," Bliss whispered to DJ.

"This is Ivan; he sells the best blood around town," he whispered back, before raising his voice: "Ivan, this is my girlfriend, Bliss."

"'Ey, Ivs! Who's that at the door?" a voice barked from within.

"It is some small wonderful children, my dear Gregory!" Ivan replied. He glanced back at the kids. "What is it that you seek, children? You will have to provide me the words before I may serve you."

DJ motioned for him to come closer, and Ivan bent down so that the boy could whisper into his ear. Ivan immediately brightened.

"Wonderful! Now, please come this way. I will prepare your new blood snacks shortly!" Ivan disappeared into the back.

DJ sat down in a chair and turned to Bliss, offering a reassuring smile. The shop was dimly lit, with stools lining various long tables. It almost resembled a butcher shop and a restaurant—definitely a weird combo.

Bliss sat down beside him. "Has this always been here? I've never really paid it much attention."

DJ nodded. "For as long as I can remember. Ivan and Greggy have been running this place since forever."

"Nice. It's great that you guys have a safe spot to get your blood."

"Yeah—things get hard in these tough times," he agreed. "It's not exactly easy being a vampire. You can't help your hunger and your cravings—hiding amongst humans without a food source is a nightmare."

Ivan reappeared then with two big bags, and Bliss could see the red through the plastic. He set them down before the two teens and grinned, his sharp teeth glinting. "Is that all for tonight, young one?"

"Not completely." DJ passed him some dollar bills and smiled. "Thanks, Ivan. But there was one other thing."

"What is it?" he questioned, tucking the money into his pocket with his long, slender fingers.

"I was wondering if Vix has passed by here," DJ said. "You know…tall, with spiky red hair, probably dressed in white?"

"I did see a redheaded boy come in, but I do not know if it is the one you seek," he replied. "He wore a sweater and his hair was in a ponytail. He did not resemble the Vix I remember, so I did not ask him any questions."

DJ frowned. "That's odd… Why would he wear a disguise but tell the cashier his real name?" he wondered aloud. He glanced at the door leading to the back. "Could I speak to Gregory about it?"

Ivan's eyes widened. "I am afraid no, my little friend. Greggy would not have been out front when the boy came in anyway, so I do not believe he would be of very much help. My apologies."

"It's okay." He let out a sigh. "Well, we'll get out of your hair now. See you around, Ivan!"

"Have a good night!" he called back.

The couple exited the shop and DJ turned to Bliss. "No luck," he said with a huff. "I was really hoping to catch him too."

"They said he was wearing a sweater?" she asked. "DJ…didn't you bump into him in the store?"

He paused, before his eyes widened. "Holy shit, you're right! That was him back there! Oh my God, I'm going to need to keep an eye on that supermarket then. Elias said they said they'd be back soon, after all."

"Who is this Vix, anyway?" she pressed. "And why do you need to speak to him so bad?"

"He's…" DJ paused, wondering what to classify Vix as. An ally? A ward of Danes'? No, he's more than that… "He's a friend."

"One you can't even contact normally?"

"Let's just say he kind of went…missing," he responded. "And I'm trying to find him again."

"Oh, okay… Well, do you think—?"

"Get down!" he suddenly hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging her with him so that both of them were concealed by the wall of the meat shop. He glanced out, watching as a small group of three people marched down the sidewalk.

"Ow, DJ! What's going on?" demanded Bliss, pulling her arm away from him and rubbing it.

"Shhh," he warned. "They're getting closer."

"Who's they?"

"Bad people."

"What do you mean?"

Before he could answer, one of the people approaching spoke, punching the wall: "Dammit. I can't believe that happened."

"Harry, be careful! Or else you risk reopening your wound," another person scolded. "I just fixed you up—I'm not having you ruin it only for me to do so again."

"Those two tiny little teens sure did a number on us," Harry grumbled.

"I'm just glad my daughter wasn't there to fight as well," the scolding one stated, with a sigh of relief. "She's currently at a friend's house."

"Lucky you then, Sampson. I, on the other hand, have nothing to be glad about and am in fact quite irked."

The third person sighed. This one was a female. "I agree with Harry. I'm glad things are looking up for you, Sampson, but I've lost two siblings and I don't know how much more I can take of all this loss."

"I'm sorry about that, Izzy. Your brother and sister were good people," Sampson added apologetically. "Fillip was our best friend, after all."

She nodded. "I know. He spoke highly of you two." She sighed again. "I wish things were better between us. Then I could speak to my sister's son once more. I miss the peace—and I'm sure my sister would too, if she was still here."

"You're right. I miss her too," Sampson added. "She was always so spunky."

"Oh well. The past is in the past, I suppose." The woman glanced at the two men with her. "You have suffered loss as well… With Fillip, and Rosemary…"

"DJ," Bliss whispered, tugging on his sleeve and reminding him that she was still there. "They don't seem so bad."

"Oh, you don't know them like I do," he muttered back.

Harry paused then, sniffing. "Wait."

The other two stopped walking as well, while DJ tensed in his hiding place. "What's wrong, Harry?" asked Sampson.

"I smell something foul," he snarled. "Like a bat."

"Are you sure?" Sampson pressed. "We're so close to a meat shop; I can't smell anything besides meat and blood—"

"Oh, the nose knows, my dear friend," he interrupted. "Just trust me. There's definitely a little brat hanging around here somewhere."

"Shit, shit, shit," cursed DJ, quickly getting up. "Come on; we need to get out of here—"

"But DJ, we're in the alleyway," Bliss protested. "We're basically trapped."

"Fuck!"

"What's going on? Why do we need to get out?" she continued to ask. "Why—?"

"Just shut up for a second!" he snapped.

She froze, her eyes wide. He glowered back, his shoulders heaving, until realization hit him and his own eyes grew large.

"Bliss, no; I didn't mean that—"

"Wow." She blinked, before folding her arms and narrowing her eyes, turning her head away. "Fuck you too, DJ."

"No, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you! I'm just stressed out right now. Please understand," he pleaded.

"That's just it. I don't understand. Why are we in danger? Why can't you ever explain anything to me?" she demanded.

"I—"

"What did I tell you?" Harry bellowed. "There's the rotten rat—or should I say, the bat?"

Both teens turned toward the man, who was glaring at them and pointing. Behind him stood his two friends, staring back at them with huge eyes.

"That's the Powerpuff Girl Bliss," Sampson whispered. "She's Braker's counterpart."

Bliss perked up at the mention of the orange Ruff, in curiosity but also interest. How do they know Braker? she wondered.

The woman stepped forward, looking as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes. "DJ… Is that really you?" she asked. "You've… You've grown so much…"

Bliss immediately shot her boyfriend a questioning look.

He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes, clearly on alert. "How do you know who I am?"

"It's… It's been so long," she continued. "I-I shouldn't be surprised that you don't remember anymore."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"He really doesn't remember," the woman said, shaking her head. "He doesn't remember me."

"Do we tell him?" Harry asked. "That ungrateful son of a bitch never told his son, huh?"

"I…" The woman clearly hesitated.

"Isabella…" Sampson stepped forward. "I don't think we should. Not here, not now."

She paused, before nodding. "No, you're right. Let's go." She turned away to leave.

"Tell me what!?" DJ yelled in frustration. "You can't just leave me here with that! I have a right to know!"

"Get lost, you spoiled little brat!" Harry spat back, glaring at him.

DJ watched them go, his hands tightening into fists. "Don't you dare leave," he hissed.

"DJ…" Bliss tried to stop him, but he was already running toward them.

"I said, don't you dare leave!" He grabbed onto Harry's arm and pulled him back, causing the older man to skid backwards on the pavement.

Snarling, Harry rushed forward and swung his fist into DJ's chin, causing the boy to stagger backwards. Isabella gasped as Sampson spun around.

"Harry!" he shouted.

"Don't hurt him!" Izzy cried.

Harry let out an annoyed hiss and made move to leave again, but DJ stopped him by throwing his fist into the man's face. Letting out a screech, Harry stumbled back and looked up to growl, "That does it! I'm going to tear you apart limb from limb!"

He and DJ began fighting, exchanging blows and kicks. Bliss flew forward, wanting to separate them and also protect her boyfriend. "Guys, stop!" she shouted, but they wouldn't listen—they were too busy trying to overpower the other.

Bliss got too close and Harry ended up clawing her leg, causing her to cry out. Groaning, she stumbled back and checked her new injury—it was bleeding heavily.

DJ stopped fighting to turn toward her. "Bliss!" he gasped. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, DJ. It's…just a little scratch—"

His ice-blue eyes widened when they landed on the sight of her actually large scratch, and suddenly filled with desire. "Blood!" he gasped, jumping off of Harry and lunging toward her.

Bliss let out a startled gasp, falling backwards as DJ pinned her down and sniffed at her bloody knee. She struggled under his grip. "DJ, please—"

"You smell…delicious," he whispered, nuzzling against her.

"DJ, please—you're scaring me," she said, shoving against him.

His eyes widened and he suddenly became very, very still.

"This is disgusting." Harry stormed over and grabbed DJ by the collar, lugging him off of Bliss. The boy spat in his face, struggling to get back down. "I can't believe this pathetic display."

"Don't hurt him! He's my boyfriend," she cried, standing up on wobbly legs.

Harry sneered. "You sure chose a terrible boyfriend."

She glared back at him, but as she watched DJ hiss and struggle against the man's hold, she couldn't find it within herself to deny his statement completely. "DJ…"

"Harry, be careful with him!" Izzy called, rushing over.

"I think you mean to say I should be careful of him," he grumbled back, setting the boy back down again.

DJ didn't move.

"Come on, let's go before you provoke him even more," Sampson said, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him out of the alleyway.

"I provoked nothing! He was the one who started the fight!" his friend protested.

Isabella paused, glancing back at DJ and Bliss, before taking a deep breath. "Take care of him," she said to the orange Puff, before disappearing out the alleyway with her friends.

Bliss watched them leave, before gazing down at DJ, who was still watching her. She took a deep breath and crouched down beside him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

She looked up, wondering if there was anything she could do to help the poor boy, before realizing that more voices were approaching.

"I don't get how this is supposed to help."

"You've been down, haven't you? Shopping should help clear your mind and cheer you up."

"I'm not exactly a teenage girl, Brick."

"Well, the walking should at least help you and your attitude. You know, you were equally rude to Sampson, Harry, and Izzy when we ran into them just a second ago."

"Excuse me for being a little depressed after being rejected by my crush."

Bliss froze. It was Braker and Brick, and they were getting close.

Braker paused, sniffing the air. "You smell that?" he asked.

"What? Blood and meat? You know where we are, don't you?"

"Yeah, but…that's not what I smell." Braker appeared in the entrance of the alleyway, clearly trying to pinpoint the scent he'd caught. He turned toward the alley, only for his eyes to widen as he stopped in his tracks. "Brick," he state ed.

"Yeah?" Brick appeared as well, before also freezing. "Bliss?"

Braker looked down. "And…is that DJ on the ground?"

"I don't know what to do," she said, wasting no time with pleasantries. "He won't snap out of it."

DJ lifted his head. "So hungry…"

Braker's eyes widened as he realized what was going on. "Oh fucking hell!" He rushed forward and grabbed the back of DJ's shirt, pulling him down until he crashed back into the ground.

"Don't hurt him too badly!"

Braker let out a frustrated hiss just as DJ kicked him in the forehead. He fell backwards and groaned, grabbing his now throbbing head. "Fuuuuuuuck!" he groaned.

Brick rushed forward and grabbed DJ in a lock. "Dammit! Why here and now?" he muttered, attempting to restrain the vampire.

"DJ!" yelled Braker, tackling the boy and helping Brick keep him still. "Are you really going to hurt Bliss, of all people!? You should know just as well as I do that you could never hurt her! Because you love her almost as much as I do."

She stared back at him, her eyes wide. "Braker…"

He flushed red and wouldn't meet her gaze, instead jerking DJ toward her. "Look into her eyes, DJ. Look into your girlfriend's eyes and tell me you want to feed on her."

"I want…" the boy was hissing, but as soon as he locked eyes with Bliss, he froze. And soon his icy gaze melted. "I want to keep her safe." He slumped, and Brick and Braker slumped as well, releasing him in relief.

"I am so sorry," he said, standing up and approaching her. "I didn't mean to… I would never…" He trailed off, looking ashamed.

"I know," she responded quietly.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, shaking his head. "Bliss, I-I don't expect you to forgive me. That was a disgusting display; I've never suffered it before, but… I have no excuses. All I can do is apologize." He turned around.

"Where are you going?" she asked, trying to reach him.

"Far away from here." He became a bat, looked back at her one last time, before winging it out of the alley.

"DJ…" Bliss lowered her hand and looked down, while Braker and Brick approached her comfortingly.

---

Blossom opened the door to her room and peeked outside, looking up and down the halls. Sensing that it was quiet and empty, she frowned to herself. It seemed like most of her sisters had decided to go out for the day.

Hmmm… She frowned to herself, wondering if she also wanted to head out. Blossom floated to the staircase and called out, "Professor?"

The man stuck his head out from the kitchen and smiled. "Hello, Blossom! Is something the matter?"

"Where has everyone gone?" she asked, descending the steps.

He shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. Everyone just sort of…vanished." He paused, pretending to look depressed. "I guess my company isn't very ideal, huh?"

"Aww, don't say that." She nudged him and smiled back. "You know we love you."

"Hmmm." He smiled back, tapping his chin. "I do know that, although it certainly doesn't seem like it tonight!"

"I guess everyone is just busy." Blossom made her way toward the table and prepared a sandwich. "They've all got stuff going on."

"What kind of stuff? Teen drama? Girl drama? The guy you like doesn't like you back? That sort of thing?" the Professor teased, returning to the thing he was cooking on the stove.

Blossom rolled her eyes with a faint grin. "Something like that."

"Are you planning on going out as well?"

"I might. It seems like there's not much to do right now otherwise, all things considered." She motioned at the empty rooms around them and he nodded.

"It's certainly very quiet here tonight," he agreed. He turned and smiled. "How's about we go shopping?" he offered. "Browse a bit and see what's going on."

"Sure! That sounds like fun!" Blossom tilted her head to the side. "By the way, what are you cooking?"

"Just some dumplings to feed myself while you guys are all out and about," the Professor responded, turning off the stove. He made his way over to the table and sat down as well, carefully scooping the dumplings into a bowl.

"Can I have some?" she asked, already reaching forward with chopsticks.

He raised an eyebrow, gesturing at her chopsticks. "That looks like a rhetorical question, considering you're already prepared to eat."

Blossom grinned back. "It was."

"Well, I'll answer it anyway. Go right ahead." The Professor started eating, and the two enjoyed their meals in peaceful silence. The pause continued on for awhile until he asked, "So…what's the deal with you and Brick anyway?"

Blossom nearly choked on her dumplings, beginning to cough violently. The Professor quickly handed her a glass of water and she thanked him with a nod, gulping it down. As she set the cup down, she looked up to stare at him, her face flushed. "What…?"

"Oh, don't pretend like there's nothing going on. I'm not clueless, you know."

She sighed. "No, you're not." She paused, trying to find the right words, before saying, "Well…okay. It goes a little something like this: as you know, Brick and I got together, but for a little while I was…admittedly distracted by another boy. It was unfair to Brick and he was rightfully upset. We luckily just recently reconciled though."

The Professor had been listening attentively, but now he looked a little sad. "Oh, Blossom… If you're ever struggling with anything, you know you can always come to me, right?"

"I know. But it's okay. It's been resolved now." She managed to smile back. "Sorry I didn't come to you. I'll be sure to do so next time."

He nodded. "So are any of the others dealing with similar issues? I've certainly noticed a sense of sadness in this house that's not usually present."

Blossom made a face. She knew her sisters would never forgive her if she spilled the secrets of any of them, but she also knew that seeking advice for them would be healthy and beneficial. But I don't exactly have the right to do so unless they were somehow harming themselves and others, she thought, hesitating. "I can't really say," she admitted. "It's their choice to tell you, but I will say that some of us have been going through a lot. I'm sure they'll come to you eventually."

He sighed. "That's fair. I suppose this is a part of life, huh…? My little girls growing up, growing independent, and growing to figure out their problems without me…"

She nodded, offering an apologetic smile.

"Oh well. I'll wait for them to come to me. I won't push." He finished off the dumplings and stood up, clearing the table and dumping the bowls in the sink, before turning back around. "You ready to part-ay?"

"I thought we were just shopping," she responded with a grin.

"That, and partying." He winked. "In a safe, casual way, of course."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course."

"Out the door we go, then!" the Professor exclaimed, leading the way. Blossom followed, and the two embarked on their journey to the outlet…

And when they soon reached their destination, they headed towards a bookstore first (unsurprisingly enough).

"You know, I don't usually get to visit this place first when I'm with my sisters," Blossom joked, flipping through a flowery, pretty copy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

"Hmmm, I'll definitely have to talk to them then. The bookshop should always be one of the first destinations you visit," the Professor replied, equally jokingly, as he checked out a book on science and famous experiments.

The two shared a laugh and continued browsing, until they decided on a few books they'd like to buy. As they lined up to pay, Blossom noticed a boy with red hair standing in front of her. She felt almost immediately nervous, remembering the two certain redheaded boys that had recently dug their way deep into her life, and she looked down to hide her face.

But it didn't work.

And the person wasn't just a random redheaded boy either—he was, in fact, Vincent.

And this fact stunned Blossom into frozen speechlessness.

"Oh my gosh, hey, Blossom! Long time no see!" he exclaimed, smiling and waving excitedly. "Fancy meeting you here!"

"H-Hey…"

"Although I guess I shouldn't be surprised, huh? It's you; of course you'd be in a bookstore," he chuckled. He held up his bag. "I'm just here to get some workbooks and novels myself."

"Ahh, nice." Blossom had recovered herself enough to give a small, weak smile. She glanced back at the Professor, who had an eyebrow raised.

He coughed. "I see you're a friend of Blossom's, hmmm?" he asked.

"I guess you could say that." Vincent was still staring at her, smiling warmly.

She couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Professor, meet Vincent. And Vincent, meet the Professor: my creator and…my father."

"Ah, nice to meet you, sir! I admire your work greatly and am so happy to meet Blossom's father." Vincent reached out to shake his hand, his smile even brighter than before, if at all possible. "You have a very intelligent, caring, and beautiful daughter. You must be so proud!"

"Yes. I am." The Professor returned the handshake and the smile civilly, but there were clearly quite a few thoughts going through his head at the moment. He glanced down at Blossom, who gave him a helpless look in return. So he coughed again. "So, err…Vincent. Tell me more about you. What do you like to do?"

"Oh, I enjoy studying and learning. My father's big on education, as you can see." Vincent gestured at the books in his arms. "Oh, and I love the violin."

"Wonderful. And your father is…?"

"He lives with me in a small house near the woods," he replied. "He really likes nature."

"I see." The Professor returned the smile. "Oh, it would appear that you're next in line."

"It would appear that you're right!" he responded. "Guess I'll talk to you after this, Blossom."

"Yeah," she agreed awkwardly.

She and the Professor waited as he paid for his books and got out of line. As soon as he was gone and the Professor started to get their items checked out, he bent down to whisper, "Is that the boy that distracted you from Brick?"

She could only nod, embarrassed and ashamed.

"Well, I suppose I can see why. He's certainly fairly charismatic and cheerful." He smiled slightly. "And he's got red hair, so there's that."

"Professor!"

"I'm just saying," he said, standing back up again with a grin and a wink. "You have a thing for guys with red hair, huh? It's your type?"

Meanwhile, Vincent was watching, back against the wall, as he waited for the two of them near the exit with his hands stuffed in his jeans pocket, his the bag of new books dangling from his wrist. As Blossom and the Professor finished up, he smiled to himself and then to rest of the world, standing up straighter as he waited for them to approach.

"Everything go okay?" he asked cheerfully.

Blossom nodded almost shyly.

"What are your plans now?" he asked.

"We—"

"We're just browsing. Perhaps we'll even end up going home," replied the Professor. "But first, I must use the washroom. You two…should talk."

Blossom gulped.

The Professor handed her the bags with a discreet wink before ducking out. She was left standing there, two bags hanging from each wrist, with Vincent.

He glanced at her. "So…about talking…"

Uh-oh. Here we go, she thought uncomfortably. "Err, right. What did you want to talk about?"

"How's about we talk about you?" he asked, his green eyes warm. "It's been so long, and I've missed the sound of your voice."

Blossom blushed, although she reminded herself not to get swept up in Vincent's honey words this time. "Aww, that's sweet, but umm…I don't think it's been that long," she replied, attempting to subliminally steer the conversation away from anything remotely flirtatious.

He raised an eyebrow. "Shall I be more specific? How's about the fact that it's been almost more than a week, two days, and eight hours since we last properly talked?"

"Wow, that's…very specific," she said awkwardly. There was a brief moment of silence before she sighed. "Look, Vincent… I'm sorry, but—"

"Before you say anything," he interrupted, reaching into his bag, "I just wanted to mention that I got you something."

"Oh, Vincent, you really shouldn't have—"

"Surprise!" He produced the item to her and smiled. "I saw this and I thought of you."

It was a silver necklace…with a heart charm dangling from it. Blossom's eyes widened. "Wow—I-I don't know what to say…"

"Blossom, you know how I feel about you already," he continued. "And…I know what you said, but—I can't stop feeling this way. I couldn't resist getting this for you when I saw it."

She breathed in, trying to find the confidence to say what she needed to say. "Vincent…"

"You didn't really say no, you know," he said quietly.

Blossom froze. She knew he was right. When he had confessed to her****, she had only barely managed to turn him down. She said she couldn't do it at the moment, and that she wasn't ready to decide, but she did technically never explicitly reject his confession. "I-I guess I should clear that up for you now," she replied, her throat feeling dry and scratchy. "Vincent, I like you. A lot. But…I can't. I don't feel that way about you."

He gazed back at her, unaffected by her words. "I know."

"Y-You do?" She blinked in surprise.

"I know you like me. And I even know you like me a lot." He glanced down at the ground and smiled faintly. "I see it in the way you act around me, and how my company makes you happy the way it makes me happy." Blossom blushed at this assessment, while he continued speaking: "But I also know why you can't feel that way for me. It's because of Brick."

"It's not just because of Brick," she responded almost defensively. "It's because I love Brick."

He stared back, before closing his eyes, the faint smile still on his lips. "Of course. You love him."

"I'm sorry, Vincent."

"I know. I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I couldn't be the one for you—that I wasn't quite good enough." He opened his eyes. "But it's alright. I'm okay."

"Vincent—"

"I still like you, Blossom. And I may for quite some time. But I understand your feelings." He turned around and lifted his hand as a signal of goodbye. "I'll see you around."

She watched as he left, sighing to herself. She leaned against the wall and when the Professor soon returned, he glanced down at his daughter staring almost forlornly at the space where Vincent had once stood.

He raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

Blossom's shoulders sagged as she sighed, "Yeah… Yeah, everything's alright."

He looked up. "Guess that's that, huh?"

"Yeah." She nodded her head. "I just hope I made the right choice."

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she looked up. The Professor offered a reassuring smile. "If it's worth anything, or makes you feel any better, I think you did."

Blossom managed to smile weakly, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to feel more secure. "Thanks, Professor."

---

The house was empty. Banana hadn't realized until she'd taken a break from sewing and looked around that she saw just how quiet the house really was. She was now at it again, finishing up the surprise project she'd made for Blaster…which he now knew about. It almost felt weird, working on it after everything that had happened, since the relationships between her and Blaster and Michael had all completely gone out the window. She didn't even know if this particular thing would solve anything, but she still wanted to complete it, maybe just for the chance of forgiveness.

As she sewed, listening to music, she didn't hear the sound of the door opening and closing, or the voices drifting up the stairs and down the hall. A knock sounded on her door and she jumped, startled.

Banana stood up and opened the door, revealing her sister Blossom standing in the doorway with an armload of groceries.

Blossom smiled in greeting. "Hey," she said, waving while balancing the bags in her arms. She brightened then, cooing, "Ooh! Love the hair!"

Out of her boredom and desperate attempts to feel better, Banana had straightened her hair and let it down for the day. She touched it self-consciously. "Thanks," she mumbled. "But umm…what do you want?"

"Just wanted to check in on you. How've you been?"

Awful. The word almost escaped her lips, but Banana kept her composure and simply stared back, before forcing a small smile to grace her features. "I'm alright. Just busy with sewing. You?"

"I'm…conflicted," Blossom admitted. "But I'm alright too. Just got home from shopping with the Professor. You want to help us unload and start cooking dinner?"

"Is it already almost time for dinner?" She glanced at her phone. "Wow. So it is. Didn't realize how late it had gotten. Was busy sewing."

She shook her head in amusement, smiling slightly. "You and your projects. You always get so invested in them."

Banana didn't respond to that, closing the door behind her and following her sister down the stairs. As they floated down, she couldn't help but ask, "What are you conflicted over?"

Blossom froze, causing Banana to nearly crash into her. "Err… I'll tell you some other time," she replied hurriedly, recomposing herself and flying quicker down the steps.

She frowned, but didn't push. She herself was hiding her own conflictions from Blossom, so she figured she didn't really have a right to ask.

When they stopped in the kitchen, Blossom dumped her stuff down and the Professor looked up from the stove. "Good evening, Banana! I've barely seen you all day."

She managed to smile back, again forced and fake. "I've been…busy," she said.

"I can see that." He returned to the stove, flipping whatever he was cooking inside. "You girls can help prepare the greens, if you wish."

"And if we don't wish?" Blossom joked.

"You can say goodbye to your dinner," the Professor answered, also joking. He grinned. "But you know I'd never be able to do that to you girls."

"And we'd never be able to say no to helping you out, I'm sure," Blossom added. "Right, Banana?" She nudged her sister almost playfully.

"Err…right." The yellow Puff didn't try to return the smile this time, but neither the Professor nor Blossom seemed to take notice. The feeling of overall cheerfulness and family almost unnerved her; she'd gotten so used to the mood of sadness and self-pity and isolation.

Banana got started chopping the ends off of the green beans, watching silently as Blossom and the Professor chatted, clearly having recently shared a bonding experience. Both of them looked so happy, and there was a warmth to the kitchen that Banana both envied and wished to avoid. Her self-pity swirled inside of her, demanding her attention and sadness, wishing that everyone was as sad and miserable as she was. Banana envied the Professor and Blossom, both of whom seemed so free of worry.

"What do you think, Bansy?" asked Blossom, turning toward her.

She blinked, startled by the sudden question. "Sorry, what?"

"I was just asking about whether or not you think we should use beef or chicken for tonight," she repeated, furrowing her brow. The smile had disappeared and was now replaced by curiosity and concern, an expression mirrored by the Professor.

Banana wished they would return to cooking and chatting as if nothing was wrong. That they would stop paying her any attention. She forced another smile and replied through gritted teeth, "Chicken, of course." Her voice faltered a little, but she recovered fast.

The Professor and Blossom exchanged glances. "Banana… What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" she said quickly. "I almost always prefer chicken over beef!" She tried to make her tone light and joking, but instead it came off as more defensive.

Blossom frowned and set down her knife, while the Professor turned away from the stove. "Banana, we can both sense that something's very clearly bothering you," her father stated, wiping his hands on a towel.

"I'm telling you, nothing's wrong."

"No, there's definitely something," added Blossom. "You're being moody and silent, and doing your 'I'm angry' face while sulking."

"No I'm not!" she snapped defensively. She froze then, looking like a crook who'd just gotten caught red-handed, and she sighed. "Look, I'm just…tired, okay? I've got a lot of stuff going on, and—"

"Banana. We know you." The Professor's voice was firm now. "You've always got a lot of stuff going on, but you're almost always on top of it all. This is evidently something else."

"So this is just one of the times I'm not on top of it." Banana looked down. "It's not so rare."

"Banana…"

"I'm just stressed out, okay?"

"But by what?" pressed Blossom.

She swallowed, feeling all her conflicted emotions clash together. Words jumped around inside her brain and her mouth, some wishing to come out while others tried to hide. "It's nothing."

"Oh come on! It's clearly not 'nothing'—"

"It's nothing, okay! Nothing at all! Nothing's bothering me!" she yelled, bursting up and interrupting her sister. "It's not anything important! Just like how…I'm not anything important." She trailed off now, staring down at her hands and the pile of green beans before her. "I'm just…making a mountain out of a molehill, okay? Sorry I'm such a drama queen. Just… Just ignore me."

The Professor and Blossom exchanged another look, and Banana hated how they were seeing straight through her and communicating so easily with one another. They clearly had a hold on their emotions and the way they expressed themselves, something that Banana was very quickly losing control of.

"Stop downplaying it," the Professor said gently. "It's okay for you to tell us what's going on."

"No, it's not." Banana was ashamed. She didn't want anyone to know what she'd done. The act that she'd committed was one of disgustingness—an act by the lowest of the low.

"And why not?" asked Blossom, folding her arms.

"Because I did something unforgivable, okay!" she blurted, unable to stop the words from tumbling out.

Their eyes widened. "Banana… What happened?" they asked.

Her own eyes grew large in realization of her mistake, and she quickly tried to backtrack. "Just forget about it."

"We can't exactly just 'forget' after a statement like that," Blossom protested almost sarcastically.

Banana glowered at her sister, frustrated by the questions.

"Blossom's right, dear. You really can't expect us to simply just ignore this," the Professor added softly.

She stared back at him. "I wish you would," she responded, tears beginning to stream down her face.

"Bansy…" He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her. "What on Earth happened to you?"

Banana didn't reply, finding it too difficult to say anything through the tears—not that she minded, considering how badly she didn't want them to know what she'd actually done. She was allowed to cry for some time, but the group were soon interrupted by the sound of the phone.

The Professor looked at Blossom, who nodded quickly and flew over to answer the device. Banana sniffled, being fine with staying in her father's embrace for a little longer. She watched as Blossom answered.

"Hello?" A pause. "Yes, this is Blossom speaking." A glance back at her companions. "Sorry, the Professor's a little…occupied at the moment."

Another pause as the person on the other end continued speaking. The voice was loud and the tone upset, and Banana could pick up bits and pieces with her super-hearing: "He's missing! As in gone! Vanished! Disappeared! We don't know and have no idea where he's gone to, or what he could've gotten himself into! What crisis or problem or issue could be holding him hostage? That is, keeping him and holding him captive and imprisoning him—barring him from returning to his house, his home, his family?"

It was obviously Mojo Jojo speaking—the low voice and odd speech pattern was a dead-giveaway. Banana's ears perked at the mention of "he's missing". Who could he be referring to? she wondered. One of the Ruffs? But there's so many of them…

"Wait, Mojo—slow down," Blossom said, seemingly thinking the same questions as Banana. "Who's gone missing?"

"Blaster!" the ape wailed.

Banana froze, her yellow eyes growing wide with shock. "No!" she gasped aloud before she could stop herself.

Blossom glanced back at her once, before returning to her conversation. "What? Oh my God, that's terrible! How long has he been missing?" A pause. "That's…pretty long. Do you think he's in any real trouble?"

Banana could just make out the loud "YES!" that came out of the phone, along with other bits and pieces: "You lot have so many enemies, that is to say rivals and villains and antagonists who may wish to off you… There are so many possibilities, that is to say chances and even ample opportunities for them to strike or attack… What if… Or if…"

"Mojo, try not to worry too much," Blossom interjected quickly, knowing that once he started rambling, he'd barely be able to stop. "I'm sure Blaster's fine! He's probably just dealing with some villain and will be home soon—he can handle himself…" Banana noted that she didn't even sound convinced.

Mojo huffed, stopping his speech. "I would hope so," he finished quietly. "Just…please keep an eye out for him."

"I will," she promised, before saying goodbye and hanging up. She turned back to the Professor and Banana. One of them was staring at her quizzically, while the other was wide-eyed and horrified. "Blaster's gone missing," she clarified to the Professor in answer to his questioning expression.

Banana couldn't find it within herself to say anything, only able to stare back at her sister.

"Banana… Is there something you want to say?" the pink Powerpuff asked, floating over. Her tone and gaze were both gentle. "You look a lot more distraught than I would've expected."

"I…I don't know what you're talking about." She forced herself to lie, even though her eyes were already blurring with tears and her lips quivered. "I'm just worried for my…friend."

Blossom frowned. "I think there's a lot more to it than just that. You seem like your entire world has just been flipped upside-down."

"No… Don't say it like that…" Banana wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as she stared down at the ground. The way she had put it, it made Blaster sound like the world to the yellow Puff—it made it sound like Banana loved him—a thought she'd avoided thinking since the kiss.

"Say it like what? Like you have a crush on him?" Blossom knelt down in front of her. "Banana… Do you have a crush on him?"

The world around her turned to glass, splintering and cracking as she felt eyes on her back, despite the fact that the Professor and Blossom were the only ones with her. Banana swallowed, trying to find the words to say what she needed to say. "I… I might," she admitted quietly, her voice wobbling. She hated how quickly her composure had come undone, but she knew she had to power through it.

Blossom's eyes widened. "But you have…a boyfriend."

"I had," she corrected, not bothering to specify exactly why he was no longer hers. She turned away, ashamed. "I…wasn't faithful. We broke up."

The Professor let out a small gasp. "Unfaithful as in…?"

She blushed. "Nothing like that! I was just not there for Michael the way I should've been."

"Oh, I see. I get how you feel." Blossom took her hands, startling her.

She jerked her head upwards, toward her sister. "But how? You're always so composed, and I…"

The pink Puff smiled slightly. "That's what I should be saying about you. You're almost always so aloof and on top of things."

"But you're Blossom. You're smart and clever and capable and you're actually always on top of things." She still had a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that Blossom "knew how she feel", let alone envied her. "How could you possibly know how I feel?"

"Hoo boy. Get ready for this one, because it's a doozy." Blossom smiled faintly. "I almost feel like this is part of my repenting process—constantly having to retell my story to show others just how terrible I really am." She took a deep breath. "So you see…you know how I'm Brick's girlfriend?" When Banana nodded, she continued: "Well, there's this really, really nice guy named Vincent, and he kind of attracted me simply because of how nice he was. So I kind of…I guess I kind of became also unfaithful, you know? I liked another guy while I also liked Brick, but I criticized him for interactions with other girls so I was…I was basically a hypocrite. I'm not proud to admit it, but I was."

"Wow, Blossom… That's…That's very brave of you to admit," Banana replied, feeling the gaping hole inside of her open even further. She wished she could explain her own situation, but she knew what she'd done was even more unforgivable.

"Thanks." Her sister smiled back, before holding out her hand. "Come on, Bansy. How's about we go look for Blaster together? Let's start by visiting the Ruffs to check they're okay."

Banana glanced at the Professor, who nodded warmly. She turned back to Blossom and took her hand, allowing herself to be helped up. "Okay. Let's."

The two flew together to the Ruffs' house, and when they arrived, the door was flung open even before they had knocked. Blossom stood there, her fist raised in surprise as Brick thrust the door open and grabbed her in a tight hug.

"Bloss, I am so fucking relieved to see you!" he gasped.

"Hey, Brick. We'll get him back. I'm sure of it." She leaned back and kissed him, and Banana found herself envying their relationship. The trio walked inside, with Brick and Blossom holding hands.

Banana froze when she saw the other person sitting in the living room, a blanket wrapped around her and a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. She was staring down at her lap, while Braker sat with her, looking concerned. "Bliss?" gasped the yellow Puff.

Her head jerked up and her orange eyes widened in surprise. "Blossom? Banana? What are you guys doing here?"

"We came here as soon as we got the memo. About Blaster," the pink Puff explained. "What about you? Where have you been?"

"I…I was on a date with DJ, remember?"

Banana wasn't sure if she'd imagined it, but she was pretty sure she saw Braker grimace.

"So how on Earth did you end up here?" Blossom pressed.

"After her date, I invited her over to hang out," Braker interjected quickly, looking almost defensive. He glanced back at Bliss, his gaze suddenly faint and somewhere far away. "As friends."

"But that doesn't explain why you look so miserable, and why it looks like Braker is comforting you—"

"Blossom." Brick coughed. "Blaster's disappearance. Remember that?"

"Oh. Sorry." She looked sheepish. "I just wanted to make sure my sister is okay."

Bliss glanced up. "I'm fine," she said quietly. "It's…Blaster I'm worried about. That's…That's why Braker's comforting me."

Banana frowned but didn't say anything more on the matter. She had her own secrets, and if she was going to hide them, then Bliss should be allowed to do so as well. "Where was he last seen?" she asked Brick.

"At the school, when classes were over," a new voice called.****

Everyone looked up to see Bandit flying down the stairs and landing before them. "He was going to fly home with us before he left for something. He didn't say what for." The purple Ruff's eyes were fretful. "Where could he have gone? What could've happened to him?"

"He's probably just caught up with some bad guy," Blossom offered. "I'm sure he's okay."

"...Sure. Some 'bad guy'," repeated Bandit, sharing looks with his brothers.

Banana wondered what was going through their minds at the moment. "Umm… Shouldn't you tell us if there's anything you happen to know?" she questioned quietly.

They all turned to stare at her.

Brick spoke first, hesitating briefly: "We don't really know anything. We're just extremely worried. There's a lot of bad people out there, all with varying degrees of danger."

"Such as?" prompted Banana, determined not to let the topic sit just yet. "If you guys have any ideas on who's responsible, it would really help narrow it down."

The red Ruff paused again. "Well…there is one."

Bandit glanced at him. "Brick…"

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" added Braker, causing Bliss to shoot him an offended glower.

He sighed. "We might as well, you guys. It wouldn't hurt to let them know our main suspect." When his brother didn't say anything else, only turning away, Brick turned back to the Puffs: "There's this man named Damon, and we think…we think he might be responsible."

Almost immediately, Banana had a flashback to a cabin in the woods, a grinning man, cookies and tea, and a loaded gun. "Oh," she said quietly. She didn't know whether or not she should admit to actually knowing him, or if she should simply ask them to explain.

Sensing that Banana didn't have anything else to say on the topic, Brick seemed also more than happy to let it drop. "Just keep an eye out for him. He's often found in the forest, and can be kind of scary. He might be at fault here."

Blossom, Banana, and Bliss all exchanged knowing looks but didn't comment, only nodding their agreement. Braker was watching Bliss knowingly, and he sighed silently to himself. He already knew she and her sisters had met Damon, but he also said nothing.

"Anyway." Brick wrung his hands. "What do you think we should do about this now?"

"I—"

Before Blossom could finish, the doorbell rang. The loud noise sounded throughout the entire house, ominous and foreboding.

When it stopped, Brick blinked. "I-I'll get it," he offered, floating over to the door. He pulled it open and couldn't find anyone, so he turned his head—and his red eyes grew wide. "GUYS!" he yelled.

Everyone quickly clustered around him, staring out the door. They could see a boy with blond hair leaning against the wall, sitting and looking unconscious. As everyone rushed to help who they knew to be Blaster, Brick looked up.

He could just make out a green cloak disappearing behind the trees, and the escaping deliverer sent shudders racing down his spine.

Brick joined the others in attempting to transport Blaster from his seat to inside the house. They rested him on the couch, staring down at him in confusion.

"He doesn't look like he's been badly injured," commented Blossom, being the first to break the tense silence.

Bandit nodded. "He looks fine physically. But then…why is he unconscious?" He bit his lip. "What do you think happened to him?"

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Braker whispered, his hands balling into tight fists as he shook violently. Bliss glanced at him in concern, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stopped trembling, but his hands remained clenched.

Brick looked like he wanted to say something, but he sighed and shook his head. "I don't know," he finally muttered, sounding tired and drained. "I just don't know anymore."

Banana stared down at Blaster, feeling a million questions race through her head. She longed to grab Brick and demand answers, but she could tell that he and Bandit were almost as lost as she was. They may have a better idea of what had happened to their poor brother, but they still obviously had no clear idea what had caused Blaster to disappear and reappear being unconscious yet uninjured.

"Let's grab Mojo," suggested Blossom. "He might have an idea of what happened, and he was really worried on the phone."

"Good idea." Her boyfriend nodded. "He and Him deserve to kn—"

Blaster stirred just then, groaning quietly, causing everyone to freeze. They all turned to him, watching as he murmured, "No… Christie…"

Banana felt something tug violently on her heart, and she grimaced. She hated how that name had gotten a reaction from her. She hated how she was growing envious of a name murmured by an unconscious, possibly delirious Blaster. But most of all, she was hating herself for the way she felt.

Bandit, Brick, and Braker shared looks. "He really likes that Christie girl, huh…" Bandit whispered.

Brick nodded, and Banana felt the same tug on her heart again. The idea that not only did Christie like Blaster and he like her back, but that people around them knew it too, hurt even more.

"It's warm," Brick fretted, starting to remove his hand from Blaster's forehead. "Do you think he's sick?"

Blaster grabbed Brick's hand weakly. "Christie… Don't go… Stay…be safe…"

Bandit furrowed his brow. "What is he even dreaming about?"

"I can answer that question," Braker stated.

The group all turned to him and stared. Brick's expression showed signs of mild annoyance. "Care to elaborate?" he questioned.

"Blaster's referring to Christie because she recently went missing."

Banana's eyes went wide. "What…?" She suddenly remembered a phone call from Damon Michael had received after the disastrous episode that was her kissing Blaster, in which he'd threatened the man and demanded he not hurt his sister.*****

"I know that. I simply mean…how the hell do you know?" Brick demanded.

"Well, how do you know?" he retorted, while Bliss placed a defensive hand on his shoulder. Banana had a feeling the two had found out together.

"I have a source. You know that." Brick rolled his eyes. "What do you have?"

"The ability to overhear conversations."

Brick narrowed his eyes at his brother but didn't push any further, probably because they were surrounded by Powerpuff Girls. "I was going to tell you guys anyway," he sighed. "But I hadn't found the chance to do so yet. Christie is currently missing."

Blossom tapped her chin. "Christie… Christie…" Her eyes widened then as she let out a gasp. "Oh my God, isn't that Michael's sister? Banana, your boyfriend—"

"Ex. Ex-boyfriend," she reminded her sister quietly.

Blossom paused. "Sorry," she apologized.

Brick frowned, clearly sensing the sudden tension. He glanced back down at Blaster and steered the conversation toward the yellow Ruff again. "Well, in any case, he's clearly very worried for her."

"Wait… Don't go—come back—" Blaster's hands reached out and grabbed ahold of Banana's hand, causing her to completely freeze up. She stared down at him with large eyes, just as his own yellow eyes began to blink open. The world seemed to completely stop, as she was only aware of his bright gaze, now awake and okay—

"Christie?" he whispered. "Is that you? You…You look like an angel."

—and the perfect moment suddenly shattered and fell apart all around her into a million little pieces. "No," she mumbled back, feeling deflated. "I'm not your angel Christie."

He seemed to realize just who she was at that very moment, because his eyes grew wide and he immediately drew his hand back, looking mortified and even possibly disgusted. He curled back. "Sorry," he muttered emotionlessly.

"Blaster!" gasped Braker, being the first to break the sudden awkward silence. He dove forward, tackling his brother in a hug. "You're okay!"

"Hey, Braker," he said, smiling as he hugged him back.

"What happened to you?" asked Bliss, joining her counterpart in the hug.

Braker blushed at Bliss' contact, looking like he wished he could say or do something more than just the embrace, but he kept it focused on Blaster: "Yeah—what happened to you, man?"

"Well, I went searching for Christie, who's currently missing—" he started to explain.

The entire group sighed, all exchanging glances. "We know," they stated.

He seemed surprised, but he continued on with his tale. "So I went to a place I think we're all fairly familiar with"—while he directed this statement at the Rowdyruff Boys, who all nodded, the Powerpuff Girls also all shared knowing looks—"and I tried to find her, but then…I just remember feeling lightheaded, when I guess I suddenly passed out. I…I think it's his fault."

"Of course it's his fault," Brick muttered. "At this rate, why wouldn't it be?"

"He called me 'little sunshine' and told me to rest****," Blaster added. "Definitely something he used to do."

Bandit shook his head. "You poor thing. Just get some rest for now, okay? You deserve it."

"I still need to find her," he objected. "She's the real poor soul, and she needs me—"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me rephrase that. You need the rest," Bandit interrupted firmly. "And I'm not budging on that. Doctor's orders."

"But she's all by herself out there! I-I dreamt that I found her, and she was so scared and wanted my company and help—"

"Blaster." Bandit sat down on the arm of the couch the yellow Ruff was laying in, with both oranges on either side of him. "I'm serious. You need to rest after that fiasco. I'm suspecting that you breathed in some sort of gas, and who knows what that's done to you."

"I don't care about what happens to me." He stared down at his hands. "I care about what happens to Christie."

"I know," the purple Ruff sighed. "But all of us still care about you. At least rest for our sake?"

Blaster looked up and around the room, his gaze once again landing on Banana. "Maybe you care about me, but not everyone does."

She winced, knowing he was referring to her and how she had kissed him despite not knowing if she liked him. She felt the guilt claw at her once more.

"But we do care," his brother insisted. "So just take a break first, okay? We all know Christie. She's a strong girl and can handle herself. I highly doubt she'd want you turning her into a damsel in distress and spending all your time worrying about her."

He sighed. "You're right. Okay, Bandit," he murmured quietly. "I'll rest for now. For you—and only the few of you who really do care about me and my safety." He once again gave Banana a pointed look, and she once again couldn't help but grimace.

"That doesn't give us a lot of answers though; over what exactly happened," Bliss commented.

Braker frowned at her. "He's tired and probably unclear on what happened himself. Let's not hound him. You heard Bandit: he needs his rest."

"Thanks, Braker." Blaster smiled at his brother, before looking around the room. "Thank you—each of you—for all being so worried about me." He paused when his gaze landed on Banana. "Or at least…most of you."

Banana looked down guiltily.

"You're welcome." Bliss grinned, seemingly missing the implications of his last statement, punching him playfully and gently. "We couldn't help but be worried about you."

"We came as soon as we heard," Blossom added. "We're just glad you're okay."

Blaster smiled warmly at them, completely ignoring Banana. She felt herself melt into icy nothingness as the excited, happy chattering continued, and no one seemed to notice Blaster's blatant avoidance of his counterpart. The knowledge that she'd upset someone as sweet as Blaster to the point of no forgiveness hurt her heart greatly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry." But no one seemed to hear her. Her apology was lost to the wind.

---

The journal lay before him, heavy on his crossed legs. His watery eyes fluttered, the eyelids feeling heavy and drooping down as he fought to stay awake. He yawned, stretching his arms and his legs, shifting so that the book remained on his lap.

He glanced back down at the pages, sighing to himself. Oh, Dad… What happened to you? he wondered. He felt cold and alone, and that was because he was. The room was dark, and he was sitting by himself on the bed with a black light beside him. He held the blacklight back up and over the journal, trying to continue reading.

The secret messages the blacklight revealed to him were sometimes messy and scribbled, probably by a hasty, shaky hand. They were hard to make out and sometimes even hard to understand—so in a sense, many of them were almost incoherent. He knew his father was an intelligent man, but his journal entries clearly showed how badly his mind had begun ebbing away.

"Lost lost lost lost lost lost—lost her, lost him, lost me—I'm lost, so lost"

"The moon is reaching full like a glass—I need a glass"

"A looking glass and you will see; a look inside of me—"

"Messy, almost like a kaleidoscope"

"Collide, collide like stars exploding and dying in the sky"

"I'm afraid. So afraid. Afraid afraid afraid afraid afraid"

"Sylvie. I miss you."

"Our son grows big and strong. He's gentle like you are. I wish you could come back and see him."

"Come back"

"Back. Give her back."

"GIVE HER BACK."

"...I'm so sorry."

"Ross. Ross, I'm so sorry."

He stared down at the pages, feeling the tears come. He wasn't sure if it was because he was so achingly tired and exhausted, but he knew the painful sadness that he felt in his heart had something to do with it, even if it wasn't the main cause. He blinked hard, trying to keep the tears at bay.

It felt like his father was speaking to him.

His hand brushed against the words that shone on the page, visible only to someone with a blacklight. He closed his eyes. He could almost hear his father's voice around him, whispering shakily, "Ross. Ross, I'm so sorry."

"Dad…" He sniffled, wiping at his eyes as he couldn't keep the floodgates closed anymore. Hunching over, Ross let himself cry the tears that he'd refused to let fall for so long. "Why did you have to go?"

He paused to flip through the pages again, looking for anything that would be of usage. A lot of the new messages made little sense, but he had a feeling that they had made sense to his father while he was writing them. He had been trying to say something; trying to express himself—and Ross just needed to decipher it.

But how? The question plagued him as he looked through the journal again and again, along with the idea that no matter what he did, there was no way to even decode any of it.

Determined to prove that small voice inside of his head wrong, Ross pulled out a notebook of his own and began writing in it. He copied lines of his father's and attempted to break it down, looking at each word, asking questions and trying to come up with answers.

"What does each goodbye mean? Did Dad know he was going to die? Did he suspect Damon? But why didn't he do anything then?

"Lost… Was he saying that he felt lost and confused? Or scared for his life with nowhere to run? When he says 'lost her', surely he's referring to Mom. But what does he mean by 'lost him'? Is he referring to Damon? That his friend has gone too far off the edge? Or…

"Or could he be referring to me?"

The very idea of that possibility made Ross' heart ache. His grip on the book tightened. You wouldn't have lost me if only you'd been able to stay a little longer, Father… If only you'd done something about Damon before it was…too late.

Deciding it was too painful to think about any further, Ross continued writing his thoughts down:

"A full moon… I know what that means. We all do. It's when the wolves howl. The night Damon killed Dad, the moon was full. Did Dad expect it? The betrayal? But again, why didn't he do anything to stop it? And a glass… He may be referring to a drink… But Dad was never an alcoholic, and the thought that he may have needed to drink just to cope with the loss of Mom makes me so sad…

"A looking glass? Immediately thinking of Alice in Wonderland. Looking inside of him… What would there be to see? He was renowned for his sense of humour and kindness and outgoing personality. He was known to make friends—certainly not enemies. Is there"—Ross paused, swallowing as he forced himself to write down the thought that had just entered his mind—"more to Father than I realized? More than what anyone is telling me?"

The possibility that he may not have known his father as well as he thought he did scared him so much. "That can't be… But Dad says here that deep down he's messy…like a kaleidoscope. Those are the really weird flowery things, right?" He paused to search it up and confirm that yes, they were in fact the "weird flowery things". "So is Dad saying he was like a kaleidoscope? Beautiful but also messy? Messy as in…messed up? Like he was hiding something deep down inside?

"And those notes on collision… What is he referring to? Who is he colliding with? Is it even about him? Does it have to do with his death? It makes me think of Damon again, but that would mean he was expecting to be killed that night. It makes no sense. I know Dad was kind, but he couldn't have been so—so stupid as to keep trusting Damon after signs started to point otherwise…

"But if it's not about Damon, then what? Him and Mom? But Mom died so much earlier than Dad… Did he expect to die in a dramatic way? What the hell did he mean?

"At least the next few notes I see here make sense: him being afraid, saying he wishes Mom could come back, and that he misses her… All of that makes sense. Of course he'd be scared and he'd miss her. But then…

"Once again, he starts getting cryptic. He demands for her to come back, or be given back… Is he demanding God to give her back? Or the sickness that claimed her? Who is he asking? He even gets kind of aggressive about it—

"And then…he apologizes. Specifically to me. But…why? This comes back to the whole question about whether or not he knew he was going to die… But then why would he be okay with going? Why would he only leave an apology and not fight to stay behind? If that's not the case, then why is he saying sorry? And if it is…

"Why didn't he love me enough to stay?"

The tears wouldn't stop coming; this time even faster and harder than ever before. Ross sobbed alone that night like he didn't dare do before anyone else. He was hurting so, so badly.

Why does everyone I love have to go?

The question was like a million needles jabbing themselves into his brain, leaking into every fissure and filling every open space. Soon it consumed him, the same way the question about why his father didn't love him enough to stay did. And both thoughts hurt more than anything in the world.

Ross hunched over, trying not to fall apart right then and there. He knew he had to keep himself together. He'd wanted answers, and he couldn't just turn away from this opportunity simply because the pathway to those answers was hurting him.

He'd have to fight through it.

But at that very moment, when he stared down at the journal, knowing that there were even more secret notes and entries he could decipher, the pain was too much to bear. And feeling afraid, he turned away and decided to look at it another day. So Ross sat, huddled all alone in his dark room, feeling cold, as he cried and cried and cried.

---

"I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing more I can do." The doctor sighed and closed his eyes. His voice dropped. "She's dying."

"No!" cried Tyrone, stumbling upwards.

Damon felt his own stomach lurch. "Do something!" he added, grabbing the doctor by the collar.

The man looked truly apologetic, dropping his gaze. "I'm sorry. But she's already dying. She's been dying for a long, long time."

The door opened and from it emerged Sampson, who looked incredibly tired. He stopped beside his colleague and glanced up, his eyes filled with pity. "Guys, I'm so sorry about your loss. There wasn't anything more that we could do. Sylvie's not going to make it. I-I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say, but please understand. W-We did our best."

Grief filled Damon's system, and he turned to look at his best friend. Tyrone had turned into a blubbering fool beside him.

"Doctor, please... There must be something we can..." He choked on his words, wiping at his eyes. "No... Sylvie, Sylvie... My dear, precious, dying wife..."

Damon let the doctor go, staggering backwards into his seat. "She's dying," he murmured, eyes wide. He tried to let the words sink in. "She's dying."

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," the doctor stated, shaking his head. "But I can't keep lying to you. She's…She's going to die very soon."

"You were right to call us here. Her medications have failed." Sampson looked exhausted and miserable, his eyes watery. "I'm afraid it's too late."

Tyrone let out a piercing wail. Damon himself wanted to scream.

The doctor winced. "She'll pass soon—but it'll be a peaceful passing, at the very least," he offered.

Damon stared back at him incredulously, almost glaring, wondering how on earth that was supposed to make anyone feel better.

"You may want to speak to her one last time," Sampson added gently.

Tyrone lurched to his feet. "Sylvie... Sylvie, baby; I'm coming for you!"

Sampson followed after him, his white coat swinging out behind him. He was obviously intending on being there for his friends, and to be there for Sylvie in her last few moments.

Damon jumped up as well. Tyrone and Sampson were already gone, sprinting out the door. As he was about to go after them, the doctor said, "I'm really, truly sorry about this. Sorry for your loss."

He didn't reply. He glanced at the doctor once, frustrated that such a refined man with so, so many degrees and credentials couldn't even save one beautiful, kind, undeserving girl from dying. Then he sighed, shook his head, and ran out the door. He didn't want to break down like Tyrone had. He wanted to stay strong. For Sylvie, he thought as he sprinted up the stairs.

When he caught up, Tyrone had burst into his wife's room, eyes stretched wide with grief. Shamus and Danes sat with her, while Sampson skidded to a stop beside him, panting. A young Ross lingered nearby, looking unsure of what was going on. It took one moment for Tyrone to take in the sight of his dying love, before he hurried to her beside.

"Sylvie—Sylvie, please don't go..." Tyrone's eyes were wide and tears dripped down his face as he grabbed his wife's hands.

"Ty, baby—is that you?" She smiled weakly, looking deathly pale as she gazed blankly at his face. "It's okay, I'm not in pain."

"The d-doctor says that..." Tyrone got all choked up, eyes watering as his grip tightened and he lowered his head. Tears and mucus dripped down his face. "Oh Sylvie, he says that you're going to die," he forced out, sobbing.

Sampson looked away. Damon could tell how guilty and horrible he felt about all of this. We don't blame you. It's not your fault, Damon wanted to say, but he couldn't find the heart to say it—and he was afraid that if he tried, he wouldn't actually mean it.

Silence followed his revelation, before Sylvie smiled and wrapped her hands around his. "It's okay. I knew I was going to die anyway."

"No, don't say that. We were going to live together...and grow...raising Ross like a...happy family...!" blubbered Tyrone, his face wet. "We promised!"

"I know what I promised. But I started to realize I couldn't keep that promise. I'm sorry, Ty."

"Oh, Sylvie; don't do this to me..."

"I can't stop myself from dying, Tyrone. But that will never stop me from loving you, or Ross, or any of you." She looked around at the entire crowd, and when her gaze landed on Damon, he felt his heart turn inside-out. "I love each and every single one of you."

Shamus was crying, and Danes wiped one eye with the back of his hand, his usually steely gaze still hard and yet sad. Sampson had turned his head away, muffling his tears by crying into his hand. Damon himself could feel the tears coming, despite his best attempts to hold them back.

She leaned forward and gently kissed Tyrone's lips. "I love you, Tyrone. And I always will. But now I have to go." She paused, her eyes filled with so much love and grief that Damon felt his heart shatter. He could hardly imagine Tyrone's feelings. "Please take care of Ross for me, and make sure he grows up big and strong. I want both of you to live long, beautiful lives, full of love and peace."

Tyrone didn't—couldn't—answer. He only nodded, still sobbing.

Damon patted his friend on the shoulder, wishing he could do more—not just to comfort Tyrone, but also to stop Sylvie from dying. He could feel his own heart hurting—and old feelings arising—feelings he had buried a long time ago, hoping that they would stay at bay. But he couldn't stop them: he desperately wanted to kiss Sylvie one last time. Hold her one last time. Hear her say something to him one last time.

But no, she wasn't his. She had other people to say proper goodbyes to first.

Sylvie squeezed her husband's hands once more before turning to Ross. "Come here, baby."

The boy approached his mother and stood on tiptoes at the side of her bed. "Why is Dada cwying?" he asked, his confusion radiating around the room. "Does he have a boo-boo?"

So naïve, Damon thought, looking down. You poor, sweet, innocent child. You don't understand what's happening. You don't know what you're going to lose. He closed his eyes and squeezed them shut, his chest hurting.

"Mommy has to go now, Rossie—Daddy's just going to miss me a little. Take care of him for me, okay?" She pulled him closer.

"But Woss no want Mama to go," the boy said, his own eyes growing wide and starting to tear up. "Woss want Mama to stay! No want you to go!"

"Neither does Daddy," Tyrone finally managed to force out in a whisper, tears streaking his face. He hugged Ross. "But she has to go now. She's…She's got things to do somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away."

Sylvie nodded, her gaze filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, my little baby—I-I hope I'll see you again someday."

Tyrone hung his head, reaching out to pull Ross into a hug and hoist him up so that he could better see Sylvie. "Say goodbye to Mommy, Ross."

"No!" the boy cried. "You can't go!"

"I have to," she said, her own eyes finally starting to water.

Ross started to cry. "But me don't wanna say goodbye to Mama!"

"I know, and I don't want to either." Tears trickled down her cheeks. "But you have to, son. You have to. Take care of each other for me, okay? You're both my favourite boys in the entire universe." She hugged them tight, all three of them crying.

That's right. I'm not a favourite. Damon knew it shouldn't hurt after so many years, but the envy still pricked at his heart. He looked away, unable to keep the heartache of her death from flitting back as well. A brief, morbid thought passed his mind: Sylvie doesn't deserve this. And now she'll be gone forever… I was never able to win her over, or even to move on. But I'd still have a chance if it was Tyrone on the deathbed instead… As soon as he thought that, he shoved the disgusting thought away.

The door burst open just then, and DJ stumbled inside, looking frantic. His hair was mussed and his suit crumpled; his tie just dangling from his neck. His blue eyes swung around the room and met Danes', whose own gray eyes had grown wide. Panting, DJ staggered forward. "Danesy, I-I got your message. I came as fast as I could, when I heard that"—he paused, swallowing—"when I heard that Sylvie was dying."

Tyrone let out a choked sob, while Danes pulled DJ aside and began whispering to him. DJ looked on, upset and frustrated that he was so late, and that there was nothing he could do. He simply placed a comforting arm around Danes, closing his eyes in sorrow.

When Sylvie pulled away from her "two favourite boys", they squeezed tighter before Tyrone let go, while Ross wouldn't.

"We have to let her go," Tyrone whispered, trying to pry Ross from her. But when he screamed "no!", he let the boy continue gripping her. The father and husband and soon-to-be-widow turned to look at his wife one last time. And in that moment, they exchanged a thousand silent words of love and thanks and farewell. "Goodbye, my love," Tyrone whispered, taking her hands once more.

"Farewell. I love you. And thank you—thank you so much for everything. For being my friend, my lover, my confidant, and my—" She began coughing violently, and he reached forward in a panic, but she shook her head. "Thank you for being my partner. For opening me up to a new world. For loving me as much as I love you," Sylvie breathed, forcing herself to smile—albeit weakly. She then collapsed against the bed-frame, panting heavily.

"I love you too," Tyrone choked out. "And I want to…thank you for everything as well. For making my world so bright. For loving me at all. For giving me our son."

Sylvie turned to the rest of them. "And thank you—all of you. I love each and every one of you and am so grateful and happy I got to know all of you and become your friend. I-I know our relationship was hard for some of you, and I just wanted to say how much I appreciated all of you for being okay with it."

Sampson and Damon both stared back at her, their gazed filled with pain and love and misery, before they looked away. "Thank you, Sylvie," they both whispered.

"I'm so glad all of you were my friends," she continued, smiling. "You guys have all been so amazing, and I—" She stopped when she began coughing violently again, blood splattering the sheets.

"Mama!" cried Ross, eyes wide with panic.

Damon's heart and stomach both twisted. Her gaze on him felt like fire scorching his soul, and her pain killed him even more.

Tyrone reached forward and grabbed his wife's shaking hand, before squeezing tight. He held close, watching as her chest rose and fell for the last few times. He swallowed, before getting up and kissing her lips.

Soon everything faded away and Sylvie stopped breathing. The monitor beeped morbidly as her heart rate became a flat line—as her heartbeats reached their end. And as her hand slipped out of his, with his lips still connected to hers, Tyrone began trembling. He pulled away and collapsed against her in a sob, unable to keep the tears from coming.

"My baby," he choked out.

Shamus let out a wail, turning away and squeezing his shirt where the heart was. Danes lowered his head out of respect, while DJ leaned against him in shock. The two had their hands clasped—perhaps in prayer, or to help each other stay standing, Damon noted. Sampson was also devastated, watching with tears streaming down his face. Damon himself began shaking violently, stumbling into a wall as he tried to remain steady. Tyrone stayed resting against his wife, while Ross cried for his mother.

And as they all sobbed for their loss, they felt a darkness consume them, because a light had just gone out in their lives. Because the thing that the group of friends had feared the most had happened. Because their biggest nightmare had just become a reality:

Sylvie was dead.

---

*(A/N: Reference to chapter 70!)

**(A/N: Reference to chapter 58!)

***(A/N: Reference to chapter 56!)

****(A/N: Reference to chapter 69!)

*****(A/N: Reference to chapter 68!)

ME: Ha! I have finally completed the latest chapter, despite now having a new school year to deal with! And this happens to be 34,200 words!

BRICK: Are you really sure you wrote all this during the school year? It's only September. *narrows eyes in suspicion*

ME: Well…okay, not really. I started in the summer, but I wanted to get a headstart before school actually began.

BLOSSOM: School is very important.

ME: Yeah, especially this year for me, considering it's my first year in uni!

BUBBLES: Oh yeah! How's that going?

ME: I guess I'm settling in okay? It's a little crazy, but I'm doing my best.

BLOSSOM: Just keep working hard and you'll be fine.

ME: I guess so. Welp! Leave a review everyone, telling me what you think! Despite my heavier workload, it would motivate me to update faster~ *winks*