DYING TO LIVE



A PpG 'alternate reality' fan fiction

By I am a good fighter


DISCLAIMER: Powerpuff Girls created by Craig McCracken and all characters associated with the show are owned by Cartoon Network


Story idea adapted from the novel 'Replay' (c) 1986 by Ken Grimwood


This story is rated PG-13




SEVENTEEN

I quickly told him about my lives up to what he already knew, from my horrible crime onward to the point when he died again. He listened carefully, asking a question every once in a while. When I got to the part about my execution, he was horrified.

"My God. They actually went through with it!"

I explained to him why I was glad that things turned out that way; that it had given my family the justice they deserved.

He thought about what I'd said, then he nodded his head slightly.

"Can't argue with that."

Then it was his turn. He was an excellent storyteller, and he had me laughing at parts, weeping at others. He apologized every time I started to cry.

He had been a ho-hum middle manager working for a ho-hum industrial supply company in Pennsylvania when, at 53, he suffered a massive heart attack over his lunch and fell face first into his plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy.

"Wish I could have seen it!" he laughed.

He 'awoke' the first time, at 18, flipping burgers at a drive in. It was the summer of 1965, just before he was to start college. He quickly figured out, just like I did, that he had somehow gotten a second chance, and he vowed not to waste it. Regretting the deferment he took to avoid Vietnam the first time around, he enlisted in the Air Force, and became an ace pilot. He parlayed his wartime record into an airline pilot's career and with his excellent salary and his memory of what stocks had done well over the years, including the fledgling Microsofts and Intels, and during the 90's, the internet boom; he became a multi-millionaire. He met, courted and married the same girl as in his first life. It was a bit strange at first for him, but of course, she had no memory of that first time. He swore to fix everything that had gone wrong; the stagnant career, the poor relationships with his wife and underachieving children, the terrible health habits that led to his premature death in the first place. He succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, and even enjoyed one other benefit he never did previously: three beautiful grandchildren. He had been walking hand in hand along one of the paths of his country estate with the oldest, a dazzlingly radiant girl about my age, when he collapsed and died, never to see her again.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I remembered the mother and unborn brother that had been stolen from me. I knew just how he felt.

He began his third 'life' in the late spring of 1970, one month after finishing grad school. He hadn't yet landed the first crappy job that would lead to the second, and saw no use even bothering to look for work. Severe depression set in almost immediately. The loss of his grandchildren pierced his heart like a sword. Never to be known or loved by anyone, except him, in his memory. To the rest of the world, they would be figments of his imagination but he had held them in his arms, changed their diapers, read them bedtime stories. Who could he tell, who would care or not think he was insane?

The depression, the mourning. It sounded exactly like my experience.

The next six or seven years were spent doing things he felt I didn't need to hear about.

"Let's just say that they were a total waste. That's when I figured out I was trying to kill myself the hard way. I looked for something easier."

"What did you do?"

He had bought himself a cruise on a doomed ship, one that had caught fire and sunk with the loss of all aboard, in both of his pasts.

"We never sailed, due to bad weather. I got depressed, sold my ticket and ...did...other things with the money that night. The ship sailed the next morning, without me, and everyone died, like they were supposed to, just off by one day. I realized how stupid a thing that was to do. I had no control over my death."

"At least you never killed anyone!" I couldn't hold it in any more. I burst into tears. "I'm so ashamed!"

He pulled out a handkerchief and leaned toward me to wipe my face. He lifted my chin and looked right into my eyes. "Blossom, listen to me. That was just pure dumb luck. I used to be a hunter. If I had 'woken up' in a field with a shotgun in my hands, I believe I'd have shot myself. And if anyone was with me and tried to stop me...they'd be dead and I'd find myself injured but still alive, to spend the rest of THAT life in jail. I'm no better than you."

"So when I murdered my family, that's when you knew."

"That's when I knew for certain. To be honest with you, I thought something might be up when you ran away and disappeared for awhile, during our previous timelines. But you came back, and I wasn't really positive and was leery of stepping forward. And because I always die before you, I never knew you were dying, too. Then in my next turn, which started in 1975, I started watching for something to happen that had never happened, looking for others like me, and never found one. But by the time you Girls were created again, 24 years had passed and your running away had slipped my mind. The murders turned that all around. If there's anyone else like us, Blossom, I haven't heard about them."

Now, I wished I'd let him in to see me while I was in prison. If I had learned all this then, I could've saved my family the pain I was causing them now. Then I remembered something.

"Hey, if you knew as soon as you heard the news, why did you ask me when I die? I told everybody, right in court!"

"Yes, you sure did. That was some performance you gave. I was there."

I was shocked. "You were?"

"Yes, I was. But, remember, because I die before you, I didn't REALLY know until you told me when I asked you. I tried to make contact with you the day of your court hearing, but you were pretty well guarded. I couldn't get anywhere near you."

I remembered it well.

"Well, you're here now. Why did you have to be President to tell me this?"

"I needed to confront you with something that would be totally new to you. Something that was different from what you KNEW to be true. And I needed to be powerful enough to overcome any obstacle to being able to talk to you privately, like this. And, I didn't know what circumstances you'd be in when you 'showed up' again, so I also had to be in a position where I could help you if you were in a jam. Like now. Being President took care of all of those possibilities quite nicely."

"I'm not sure I get it."

"I had to let you know you weren't alone. Blossom, just like you, I didn't understand what was happening to me but after the second time I realized it would happen over and over and I couldn't control it. The only thing I could control was how I decided to live my life. I wanted to change the world for the better. By doing social work I could help a few people, but by amassing wealth, I could fund many groups who would help thousands. I'd already done it once, so it was easy. When I learned about you, I knew I had to do something to help you. But, when I came to visit you in prison, I was a very wealthy, respected person and it didn't get me in to see you. If I were the same today, it wouldn't have gotten me through that door over there."

He paused to see if I was following. I nodded for him to go on.

"Even if I was sitting here as one of your doctors, telling you I believed everything you said because the same thing happened to me, would you buy it?"

"Sure!" I said. "Why not?"

"And do you think I, as only one of many doctors, would have the authority to get you out of here?"

I suddenly understood. His agents were right, you didn't tell the President no. I was very happy at that moment.

He smiled again. "Besides, although I went after this job for only one reason, I've had to actually BE the President while I waited for this day to come. I think I've been a pretty good one. I just wish I could keep doing it a bit longer."

I knew what he meant. "What's going to happen to us?"

He stood up. "I'm going to keep on being a good President and you're going to keep on being a good Powerpuff Girl. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. I'm getting you out of here today, but Blossom, you have to promise me something."

"Anything!" I practically shouted.

"You don't talk about any of this again. No more predicting the future, especially concerning the fate of a certain elected official. My boys don't fool around; I'd hate to see you wind up in prison again."

He was smiling when he said it.

"Don't worry, I won't! I want to ask you for a favor, but you might think it's kind of sick."

"No, not at all. Go ahead."

"Can I come to the funeral?"

He sat back down. "Why, Blossom, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. I'd like that a whole lot."

He stood up again, smiling. "Wait right here!" Then he dashed from the room. I giggled. Where was I going to go?

He was back with one of the doctors. "Get those restraints off her, now!"

The second I was free, I flew off the bed and hugged him tightly, my eyes full of tears. "Thank you! Thank you!"

He pulled me away from him and wiped my face with his hand. "No, Blossom, thank YOU."

He waited until the doctor left and we were alone again.

"Remember what I said, whatever happens can't be any worse than what we've been through. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

He hugged me again quickly, then he put me down on the bed.

"Oh, one other thing. I'm going to tell the Professor that you promised me you'd never mess around with chemicals in his laboratory ever again, which is what you were doing right before you sat down to watch TV that night, am I correct?" He winked at me.

"Yes sir! I promise!" The man was a genius.

"I have to go now. You know, bills to sign, junk like that." Then he was gone.