Heightened Tensions- Chapter 14
Buttercup was in her room when the professor went to talk to her that afternoon, and she didn't seem too keen to entertain any sort of visitors.
She was moving about the space of her room, tearing through her closet and drawers looking for the clothes she wanted to wear that morning. The professor went to the doorway, clutching a pile of his daughter's clean laundry, a hesitant look on his face as he tapped lightly on her doorframe.
Buttercup jumped when she heard him, her back turned away from the door, but she spun around to meet the professor's face. He smiled warmly, hoping to instill some sort of conversation with his increasingly distant daughter.
"I went ahead and washed these for you…" he said gently, moving into the room and setting the neatly folded pile down onto her bed. He lingered for a beat, staring down at her rumpled sheets and piles of homework papers that adorned the surface of her bed, as if calculating the right thing to say to her. Buttercup was standing near the window, her shoulder's square and a look of utmost revulsion on her face, as if a giant slug had just slithered into her room.
"Thanks," she said off-handedly, stomping over to the bed to claim a shirt that was half-way down the pile. She ripped it free, spilling the entire batch all over the bed and floor. Walking away towards the window again, she threw the shirt carelessly on her desk chair and began fidgeting around in her sock drawer.
The professor sat down on the edge of her bed, resting his elbows on his knees, and set himself to watching Buttercup, who had seemed to forget that he was still there. He was silent for a while, eyeing her calmly as she erratically searched through her drawer, every bone in her shoulders and upper body visible through her small nightshirt. The professor cleared his throat loudly in an effort to get her attention, and as soon as he did so, Buttercup snapped her drawer shut and wheeled around to face him, an expression of complete irritation on her face.
"What?!" she said forcefully, leaning slightly forward with her hands on her hips. She was eyeing him coolly, a look of resistance playing across her face. The professor smiled warmly in her direction, but her expression never wavered.
"Why don't you come sit over here, I won't bite," he said calmly, shoving the turned over pile of clean clothes to the far edge of the bed, in order to make room for his black-haired daughter to sit down. She raised her eyebrows, and looked as if she was about to shoot off a snide remark, but the professor interjected. "I'd like a word with you."
Buttercup folded her arms across her chest and remained silent. She was eyeing him with disbelief, as if he was asking for the most arduous task in the world to be performed. He continued to watch her, his gaze never hinting any weakness or sign of giving up. She was challenging him, and he knew her ways all too well. He wasn't going to let her win this time, not when he knew so much was at stake.
"Come here," he said lightly, shifting on her bed. Buttercup let her arms fall to her sides, yet continued to watch the professor warily. She wasn't going to budge. "All right then, if you won't come over here, I'll come over there."
The professor stood from the bed and moved to the other side of the room, where Buttercup stared up at him, her face in a complete scowl. He sat down at her desk and turned to his daughter, who looked as if she was contemplating running from the room. The professor grabbed Buttercup's arm gently and pulled her over, so that she was partially sitting on his lap, partially squirming to get away. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders so that she couldn't escape, the professor sighed.
"Look, honey, I think its time we went and talked to someone…"
He felt her body stiffen and her head dropped, so that she was staring at the floor. The professor knew he had to be careful, or else he would potentially make her dangerously angry. She was never afraid to hit when she was threatened, emotionally or physically, and if it involved her sisters it always turned out fine. They could deal with her raging outbursts, and the professor was smart enough to know that he himself, nothing more than a regular human being, would never in a million years be able to deal with her. She could do some real damage, and he knew from experience.
"… Just for your own benefit. I'm worried about you… well, you're sisters are too. They may not seem like it, but trust me, they are. They want you to be happy…"
He noticed Buttercup's knuckles had gone white as she clenched her fist tightly on top of the desk. She was clearly battling with something on the inside, and was pained to be confronted by the mere fact that something was wrong with her. Yet, it had to be done, and the professor felt as if it was his responsibility to get her any help she needed. Buttercup clearly needed someone to talk to, or someone that could snap her back into her senses, and tell her that everything really was okay. She was only getting worse as time went on, and if left unchecked… the professor didn't want to think of what could happen.
"I don't need any help…" Buttercup finally mumbled after a few silent beats. Her voice was very low and quavering, almost as if she was fighting back tears; enraged ones.
"Honey, I know what's upsetting you, and there isn't any reason to be angry. You're important to us, and if you somehow think that you aren't special, than you're wrong-"
Buttercup suddenly tore away, and the professor was forced to let go of her as she stomped away back to her dresser. It was all he could do to keep his arm from being torn from its socket.
"Why am I not special? Why are they so fantastic… and why do I have NOTHING?!" she was starting to shout, spitting out the words as if they were particularly revolting. The professor jumped at the sudden change of octave, and her voice filled the room like a loudspeaker. If it was true that practice always made perfect, then shouting was Buttercup's area of expertise.
"We've had this conversation millions of times before. These things weren't in my control… I had no power whatsoever on what Chemical X would actually do to you three-"
"WHY DID YOU MAKE ME SO USELESS?!"
"Now listen to me! You are NOT useless, and you are just as wanted as your sisters are. You're acting ridiculous!" He could feel his temper rising, his face growing warm with his impatience at Buttercup. The professor just couldn't understand how she had ended up being so stubborn. The Chemical X definitely had influence over her brain chemistry, making her personality into what it naturally was- hotheaded and bad-tempered- but her stubborn attitude was getting worse as she grew older, and he had to wonder if it was just the result of the Chemical multiplying in her system as her body grew. Yet even so, it had to be dealt with, or it would only hurt her in the future. She had to be fixed now, or something bad was going to come of it. It was just a gut instinct he had, as if something inside was warning him that his little girl was in danger.
Buttercup was glowering at him, her face flushed with anger as her breath shook. The professor could tell that she wanted to cry, but he knew she wouldn't in his presence.
"Listen, honey… We can run tests on you… we can see what's going on with your system… maybe if we look into it… we can see if there's a reason why you haven't developed anything new-"
But perhaps the professor had said the wrong thing, because that that moment Buttercup's eyes went very wide, her jaw stiffened, and she looked as if she was about to explode.
"RUN TESTS ON ME?!?! HOOK ME UP TO MACHINE LIKE A LITTLE ANIMAL NOW?!?" she bellowed, gesturing wildly in the air with her fists as tears spilled over onto her cheeks.
The lights in the house flickered, a whirring hum sounding off in the walls surrounding them.
"Buttercup! Doctors run tests on people all the time! It doesn't make you any less-"
"I JUST WISH I WAS NEVER BORN!! THEN I WOULDN'T HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY!" her voice jumped into a near shriek, and she finally covered her face with her hands, her breath heaving and shuddering. The professor felt his temper finally snap, and the anger surged through him as if a dam had just burst. It was a rare occasion when he got really angry, and the girls had to do something really serious to get him to shout. Usually it only happened if they had been messing around in his laboratory, something that had been very common when they'd been young, but they'd grown out of it. Yet this time, there was something in her face and her demeanor that was… to say the least… annoying him to the point of wanting to punish her.
But punishing wasn't going to do her any good. Not this time. Something mentally had been destroyed, and he knew he had to fix it. But, he just felt so angry with her, especially after she shows the audacity to say something truly ridiculous.
"Do NOT raise you're voice at me, and don't you EVER say something like that again, do you hear me?!" he hissed, standing up to his full height in his heightened anger. He was almost on the verge of tears himself, but couldn't stand the idea of leaving her alone, but he just couldn't talk to her right now.
"You are going to talk to someone if I have to sedate you and drag you to their office by the hair!"
"I won't!" Buttercup cried, tearing her hands away from her face. She was furious.
"You are going to see a therapist and that's final. You need help!"
"I won't!" she cried again, this time her voice harsher as the anger rose again.
"You are being childish, and you are going to find out there isn't any reason to be jealous over something as trivial as-"
"I AM NOT JEALOUS!!!!!" Buttercup hollered, her eyes very wide and filled with rage, almost to the point of glowing a hot green. In fact, they were glowing, and the room seemed to be throbbing with some sort of charged energy. There was a humming in his ears-
-Then the room was plunged into very abrupt mid-afternoon darkness as the lamp across the room suddenly burst with a roaring explosion of sharp sound. Shards of colored glass streaked through the room, covering any surface they could find.
The professor gasped, covering his face with his arms as pieces of broken glass rained upon him. Buttercup froze, her lip quivering as her gaze turned up to the ceiling, her shoulders very still as she inhaled sharp, shallow breaths.
Then Blossom burst into the room. She looked panic stricken, her hand across her chest as if trying to keep her heart from leaping from her throat.
"What happened?! The power just went out!"
The professor turned his gaze to Blossom, who was standing in Buttercup's doorway. She looked scared, and she returned the professor's gaze with her lingering panic in her eyes. His own eyes were wide with fright, and he turned back to Buttercup, some sort of unreadable comprehension dawning upon his face. The professor turned back to Blossom, who had meanwhile moved cautiously into the room. Her gaze was on her sister, who was standing very still, her face turned upwards in mortified terror.
"A fuse… maybe…" the professor was mumbling, almost to himself as he stood up. "I need… to check something… the lab…"
And he brushed past Blossom, letting a hand fall gently on her shoulder as he moved out into the hallway. A few moments later, the lab door closed downstairs. Blossom and Buttercup were left alone.
"Is-er- everything okay? I heard you two shouting in here…" Blossom started to say, unable to find strength in her voice. Buttercup's own expression was scaring her.
She was barely moving, as if afraid that one inch would cause a bomb to explode. Her eyes were wide, panicked, her lips parted in a silent scream. She was staring up at nothing, her body trembling lightly, the only thing that gave away the fact that she hadn't turned to stone. Blossom stared at her in cautious horror, not fully-understanding what she was doing, almost afraid the Buttercup was having some sort of stroke.
"Buttercup? It's… okay… it was probably just a fuse or something…"
Buttercup suddenly snapped back into reality as if a switch had just been flipped to on. Her head whipped around, shards of glass that had been stuck to her hair tinkled to the floor, and she stared back at Blossom with utmost revulsion. Blossom stepped back, suddenly fearful for her life. Buttercup had murder in her eyes.
"GET OUT!" Buttercup shrieked, her voice very shrilly and high. But her voice was trembling with what must have been fear.
"Wait- I-"
"GET OUT!" There was an altogether haunted expression about her face, like being faced by an unknown adversary. She looked… almost… confused… or… ashamed?
"Buttercup, this is hardly fair!" Blossom interjected, pulling together some shred of sisterly authority she hoped she still had. Yet, it was no good. Buttercup took a step towards her, fist raised as if preparing to strike, eyes rolling madly-
"GET OUT!"
"NO!"
Then it was as if a hundred hands slapped into Blossom's body. She felt an unseen force push against her front, as a throbbing growl assaulted her ears like a sub-woofer at full blast.. Gasping harshly, she stumbled backwards, catching herself on the doorframe as Buttercup stomped ever closer.
"NOW!"
Stronger, harder, Blossom was losing her grip on the doorframe. There was a strange angry energy in the air… so sharp Blossom could almost taste it buzzing around her. She could feel it so clearly, so strongly, the loud humming growing ever louder as her sister edged forward.
"GET OUT!"
Buttercup was screaming, her face red with rage but her rolling, trembling eyes communicating some sort of fear that she would never reveal to anyone. Blossom felt the anger and panic well up inside her, she wanted to help, she wanted to wipe the pain from her face, but-
"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"
At that moment she felt the weight against her jack up to an even stronger push as if someone had just turned up a dial. It was grinding itself ever harder into her, suffocating her as she tried to fight it off. It felt like… something she knew too well, the smothering of crumbled stone from a fallen building, the slamming weight of a monster's hand as it flattened her onto the pavement, pressing harder as Buttercup grew closer… a strange ghostly presence begging her to move…like…
Blossom lost control of herself, and she screamed, her voice carrying through the house, shocking even herself. She was pushed backwards, the very same flying sensation she'd received from Him nearly months before as he'd thrown her across the illuminated laboratory. She fell into the hallway, nearly falling over the railing that overlooked the living room.
She heard the shuddering crash of the door slamming behind her, and felt the tremors of Buttercup's strength still buzzing around her body. She felt numb, weak, and a lingering presence of something against her skin. She'd been forced from the room… by something, by someone…
She wanted me out… She was yelling at me to get out…
Buttercup had never laid a finger on her… but somehow… Blossom hadn't left the room on her own accord. Something had forced her out.
Trembling, she lifted herself up from her partial leaning position on the railing. She hadn't noticed the tears on her face, but now felt the gummy salt drying onto her skin. Her body was starting to ache, and her knees were trembling. Blossom fell to the ground, all the energy sucked from her limbs.
She looked through the bars of the railing, and met the stare of the professor. He was standing in the living room, peering up at Blossom, a dawning comprehension upon his face. It was the same look he always wore when he came across some great scientific discovery, some sort of revelation. It was almost like he'd suddenly realized something, but whatever it was, Blossom thought it totally irrelevant in the situation they were now facing.