Author's note: I can see it now. Many of you may complain that certain characters may be acting OoC. But I will complain right back to you by saying… THE CHARACTERS ARE OLDER. We have no idea as to how they'd act later in life. In consideration, this is a fan fiction, and merely my interpretation of the future, nothing more.

I'm curious to know how many saw this coming.

Oh yes, keep some snacks and a pillow handy. This one is looooooong.

Heightened Tensions- Chapter 22

It was so warm and dark, that Bubbles wanted to sleep forever. There was a constant hum on her awareness, and a deep heat that encircled her body, tucking her in tightly to the softness of what must have been fluffed sheets. The noise on her hearing kept her in a droning doze, the pain on her cheek just slowly starting to inch its way along her nerves as her body began to bring itself back to the real world. The noisy hum grew louder, almost irritating to the point that she wanted to throw something just to stop its incessant racket.

Bubbles groaned, turning her head slowly on its side, her neck stiff and aching, the rest of her body joining in its protests. She hurt all over, every bone and muscle in her body pulsing with hot discomfort, finally able to cry out now that she wasn't fleeing for her life… fleeing… from…

All at once she jumped up where she lay, completely disoriented and just slightly panicked. Wherever she was, the light was faint, the room nearly covered in complete darkness if not for the lava lamp that was sitting on a desk across the wall. The orbs of gelatinous blue were floating in their ethereal patterns from inside the glass, emitting a comforting hum as the shapes slide along the glass. The hum… it had woke her up…

Bubbles cursed under her breath, blinking against the light, trying at the same time to let her eyes adjust to the dark. Nothing in the room was recognizable to her, and she could barely make out the miscellaneous shapes that that stood against the walls. She was sitting on a wide bed, sheets thick and spackled with bizarre shapes and covered in a thick layer of downy threads. Beside the lava lamp there was a bookshelf, so wide it took up just about the entire wall it stood against, crammed full with books of many sizes. The desk with the lamp had nothing overly special, except for the fact that there was a sparkling blue glow casting its light across parts of the room, spilling across every surface in the immediate area… including.

A person. There was a freaking person at the desk, slumped over like they were asleep. Bubbles's eyes suddenly went wide, and her body froze as her eyes traveled along the stranger's frame, down to the hand that was draped down the side of the chair. It appeared to be gripping something, tightly, but the rest of the body wasn't moving at all. The only evidence they were alive, was the constant rise and fall of their back, the deep even breaths of someone who definitely wasn't in the waking world.

It was like a horror movie. Or like one of those horrible video games that Buttercup played, where the entire time the character was surrounded by darkness, the only light from a tiny pocket flashlight stuck from the front of their shirt. Every shadow suddenly became very malicious to her; everything seemed to move and sway in time with her fastly beating heart, her body shaking beyond the point of control. Bubbles felt totally alone, the silence becoming too terrifying to suffer through any longer and the entire atmosphere seemed to be pressing in on her. Any minute, she half-expected X to come crashing through the window, or for this person to suddenly jump up and attack. That was just how strangely surreal the entire scene felt. She had to act, before this person woke up and found her trapped in the tightly-wrapped sheets. They were carrying a weapon. That was the only possible thing it could be.

Very slowly, Bubbles began to unwrap the bed sheets that covered her, wincing at the pain and the damp cloth against her skin. She was still wet, terrific, and just then she began to feel the chill of drying water sink through her skin without the barrier of blankets she'd previously had. Her teeth began to chatter, and she tried hard to drown out the noise, but it rattled inside her skull. Swinging her legs off the bed, she kept her eyes on the dark stranger in the corner, still fast asleep.

Bubbles stepped onto the carpet, instantly realizing that her shoes were missing, but quickly decided that it was the last thing she needed to worry about. It only made her quieter. She had to get this person before they got her, and she had to be stealthy about it.

Ever so quietly, she crept along the carpet, keeping her body low merely out of habit. Each step was painfully slow, her feet making hardly a sound as the figure grew closer. Bubbles kept her arms out for balance, her fists balled to attack, her eyes narrowing in the hunt… slowly… almost there…

She was so close… she'd have to hit before the stranger… a man…had time to wake and realize she was there… she had to be quiet…

Her heart was beating so fast, she was sure that just by itself it would wake the man up. Her mind was racing, her lungs screaming for the air her pulse demanded. But she couldn't breath, it had to be silent… no sound at all…

A quick blow… right in the face… she had to turn him around… he was so close… she could touch his shoulder…

Bubbles reached out… her hand shaking… wait… why do I have to kill him? He saved me… but he's armed… I can see it right there… no other reason… wants to kill a Powerpuff…

Without really thinking it through, her hand moved out, and she grasped onto his shoulder, hard, and at that same instant she suddenly realized she would be making a terrible mistake, something was screaming at her not to act, and that was the same instant that he woke up.

The figure jumped, something crashed to the floor, the weapon, and he stood quickly out of the shock of her grip. He turned, and Bubbles screamed, her hand knocked away from his shoulder. In that moment of pure haste he grabbed her, cupping a hand over her mouth just as she lost balance and both bodies fell onto the floor.

"SHH! Bubbles! Stop screaming!" He hissed, his teeth clenched in unquestionable fear, his voice so familiar. Her body relaxed, on instinct, because sub-consciously, Bubbles just realized who she'd been about to attack.

"MMMMMMPH!!" she mumbled, the pitch of her voice high as her eyes could finally see just who was pinning her to the floor. Her breathings till ragged, she could finally let her hyper-active mechanism of defense calm. But just as that old fear left her, a new emotion took over as she realized that he was lying on top of her, completely oblivious to what was happening. Suddenly, Bubbles felt really warm.

"You'll wake my parents up!" He whispered again, not as urgent, but still tense. Bubbles nodded, and vigorously pulled his hand away.

"D-Dexter?" she squeaked. "What are you doing here?!"

"I live here," he said quietly, his face relaxing in the dark, still not realizing that they were both in very awkward positions. "Why else would I-"

But he cut off instantly, just as a sudden harsh light spilled out from underneath the doorway from the hall. Dexter froze, simultaneously covering her mouth again as if he though her likely to start screaming, his eyes widening as he stared at the door. Bubbles followed his gaze, and for the few moments they both watched the door suspended in motion, half-expecting someone to burst in at any moment with only a very strange scene to befall.

Then just as soon as it went on, the light shut off, engulfing them both once again in the blue glowing darkness. There was a few seconds where they both remained motionless, and Bubbles felt her extremities tingle with all the heightened alarm she'd had to endure in just a short time. This was certainly not fun at all, at least compared to the one other time she'd been to his house.

Dexter turned back to her, and he jerked back, releasing his grip at the same time as he suddenly realized that he'd been smothering her. He moved away, head bowed to avoid her eyes, and with her slight disappointment and curiosity, Bubbles sat up.

"S-s-sorry… I just had to make sure…"

"It's okay," Bubbles whispered, and she smiled. They sat in silence for a while, and Bubbles watched Dexter sit on the floor with his knees folded beneath him, his hands scratching awkwardly at the rug. She wanted him to lift his face, so that she could see him in the darkness, so that she could see what he looked like with the serene, blue light against his face. But he seemed too bashful to even look at her now, and that only made him that more interesting. It was so endearing how he was just so awkward when they were alone.

What am I thinking?!

Then Bubbles remembered what had happened, and she felt her spirits fall. There was still the question of how in the world he'd driven X away. Obviously, it had been Dexter who'd pulled her out of the pool… but how exactly had he evaded the robot? That was a question she needed answered, right away, because who knew if X was going to show up again? It certainly wouldn't ignore him, and she somehow knew that he wouldn't go down without attempting to protect her.

"Um… well… I need to ask you about-" she began to whisper, her words halting, because she was just too confused to pick out the right things to say. Dexter stopped her in mid-sentence.

"You need to change… I had to keep you in your own clothes… because-" he stopped abruptly, realizing what he was saying, and then he stood and quickly disappeared from the room. The door was silent as he opened it, and Bubbles barely heard him move out into the hallway, surprised when he returned five minutes later just as silently as he'd left. There was a bundle in his arms, and Bubbles stood from the floor to greet him, gratefully taking the pile of dried clothes as she once again, became aware of the fact that she was still uncomfortably wet.

"Thank you…" she said shyly, blushing. Holding the clothes against her chest. Dexter nodded stiffly, looking at her intently, his eyes very betraying to what she knew he was really thinking. That only made Bubbles feel even warmer.

"They should fit you. My sister was your size at one point."

"Your sister? You never told me you had a sister," Bubbles said, completely taken aback. How could he not have told her, and how could she not have noticed the last time she'd been there?

"I try not to give that information out freely," he said mutely, his eyes still on her, but his posture that of someone who really wanted to run away.

"Why not?" she challenged. This was certainly very strange. Dexter was suddenly acting very weird, and Bubbles didn't like it at all.

"Because she- just never mind, okay!? Just drop it… it doesn't matter," he growled, his voice a choice bit more louder and irritated than before. Bubbles closed in on herself protectively, feeling very attacked at that moment, and sad that somehow she was inadvertently angering him.

"Okay… I'm sorry… I didn't know it was that big of a deal… I'll just…"

"I'll turn around. You shouldn't go out into the hall in case you get trapped," he said quickly, turning around to face the door. Bubbles watched his back for a few moments, and watched the way he leaned his head against the door in exhaustion, his shoulders visibly tight. She wanted to say something, but didn't know what would calm him. Something was very obviously bothering him, and Bubbles was getting the hint that it was her.

"I'll just leave then… if I already made you mad at me…" Bubbles said, turning towards the window as she set the bundle of clothes down on the edge of the bed. She heard Dexter stir behind her, and he spoke in the darkness.

"You can't go out there," he said quietly, and she could tell he had turned back around. Bubbles shrugged, and refused to face him as she went towards the window. She froze, looking out into the moonlit backyard, only to be met with the view of the very same pool she'd fallen into. He'd seen her get attacked and go into the water…

"Of course I can. I can take care of myself!" Bubbles said into the glass, hesitating before she moved the pull the window open. Her hand was forced away suddenly, and she was surprised to see that Dexter had snuck up right behind her.

"No. You can't. It'll kill you." he said very bluntly. "Trust me."

"You know, you're starting to piss me off. I didn't ask you to help me!" she snapped angrily, standing on the tips of her toes in an effort to get into his face. He seemed completely unfazed.

"I watched you fall in. I wasn't going to let that thing get you out!" he was fighting back now, leaning over her in his muted fury. But they stopped fighting almost abruptly, both of them realizing that their faces were only a mere inch apart. There was another silent pause for what must have been the fifth time that night, both of them too shocked to move away, staring each other down in the eyes with fizzling out anger that was slowly changing into something else.

"I'll just… go change then…" Bubbles said finally, shyly turning away to retain the lump of clothing that had since fallen from the bed. She kneeled down, but felt her knees go weak as her entire body was suddenly overcome with an overpowering sadness, and she began to weep softly.

Bubbles couldn't understand why she felt so sad, but all the negative energy in the air, all the anger she'd seen come from Dexter, directed at her… those kinds of things had never gone down easily with her. But now it felt good to cry, something she'd wanted to do for a long time, having to deal with so much on her own and hide it from her family. Yet all she wanted was some comfort, from someone who could understand. It was a vicious cycle indeed. There was no way for her to spill the secret, and if that were true, then nobody could help her or make her feel better. Not even Dexter, because he seemed entirely uninterested. That realization only made her want to cry harder.

"If my parents hear you… they'll… ah… damnit…" Dexter said quietly, his voice trailing off into silence as he gave up the effort to quiet her. Bubbles was ignoring him, half wishing that X would come crashing through the roof, if not to break her horrible ordeal. He was so stupid. How could he be so stupid? She hated Dexter. She hated him so much. I hate him! That stupid bastard… so mean! I HATE HIM!

It made her want to scream, but she knew she couldn't. But Bubbles felt so tense, that she just needed some sort of release, so badly that destroying something felt totally desirable at that moment. She was so wound tight that she jerked badly went she felt a tentative hand against her shoulder.

"I'm… sorry…" Dexter said, his voice just next to her. "I'm sorry I made you cry…"

Without giving him any warning, Bubbles threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his body tightly, thinking if she held on she could squeeze the sadness away. But he froze up, completely startled at her closeness, and she could feel his heart-rate speed up almost instantly as her head pushed against his chest. All she wanted was for him to return the gesture, to just wrap his own arms around her and make her feel warm again.

"I hate you… you're so stupid…" she murmured into his shirt, soaking it with her own tears. Dexter was completely speechless, his hands gripping the carpet to avoid touching her, his gesture very evasive as Bubbles continued moving her uninjured cheek against him.

"I…I…I…" his whispered stutters were barely intelligible, some sort of lump lodged in his throat that was keeping him from stringing a comprehensive sentence together. She could almost feel him shaking, his posture slightly drawn back as if ready to fall over, but very clearly it seemed as if he was almost trying to draw himself away… not this time buster…

"Just hold me, you idiot! You're so stupid!"

Finally he responded, tentative at first, his hands just barely touching the backs of her shoulders. He was impossible, absolutely ridiculous… why the hell did he have to be so damn respectful… and so awkward at the same time?!

Bubbles clenched tighter onto his shirt, balling the fabric tightly in her fists, trying so hard to literally bury herself into his body. She wanted to disappear, to just die right there, because then she wouldn't have to feel so sad anymore. But she felt so light as he finally fell into her embrace, wrapping his arms fully around her as he pressed his own body against hers. Finally, it felt so good, just the warmth and the comfort, even if it meant absolutely nothing.

"I… I almost killed you… I was confused…" Bubbles hiccoughed softly into his chest, closing her eyes as the tears continued to soak her cheeks, stinging the still-open cut on the one side. But she didn't care. The pain felt good to her, while she was so unbearably miserable.

"What?" he whispered softly, his reactions so much calmer then they had been before.

"When you were sleeping… I was so scared… and I didn't know it was you… I thought you were going to hurt me…"

"I would never hurt you. I saved you… I only meant to protect you…"

"But you were so angry at me… you were so mean…"

"…I was never angry at you… I just… this is hard for me to deal with… with you here now… and you're so…"

Dexter stopped talking right then, his voice breaking hesitantly at the last few words, but Bubbles knew what he'd been about to say. He was going to tell me I was beautiful… oh, why didn't you say it, you dummy?!

Bubbles understood what was happening now, why she had become so taken by him. The last few months, all of it building into that one confusing emotion. She was in love with him.

But how can I make you understand? Now… I just can't… not now… not with that thing after me…

She knew he felt it too. That was why he was so awkward with her all the time, especially now, but she could read it in his eyes; the hungry desire to kiss her, and to be near her. But he stayed away, and she knew why he did it. Because he was afraid of her, and he didn't want to hurt her…in any way at all.

"I… just need help… but nobody can help me… I'm afraid…"

Dexter breathed in deeply, and Bubbles took her own air in, her sobs fading away into mere jumps in her breath. The tears were drying, along with her sudden sadness.

"I can help you…" he said quietly, his voice firm but hushed. Bubbles pulled away hastily, confused, because his tone had changed again. He seemed… dead serious.

"What?" she asked softly, moving back to look him in the eye. Dexter was watching her, the look on his face very stern. He was serious.

"Look, you need to change… or you might catch a cold…" he said, his face changing. "And you got me all wet too. Now I need to change" he smiled faintly, and Bubbles let out a choking laugh and an apology.

Reluctantly, Bubbles moved away and picked up the clothes from the ground. She began sorting through it, looking at what he'd brought her; a long-sleeved zip pullover that was white with black sleeves, and just a pair of regular denim jeans. They looked suitable enough, and Bubbles began folding out the creases against the floor. It was merely her attempt to be pre-occupied, but what she was really thinking about, was Dexter, and just how warm he'd been.

"I'll give you some time," Dexter said quietly, standing from the ground and leaving the room quickly, the door shutting quietly behind him. Bubbles watched the door for a while, blinking with her eyes still wet and face still soggy. What had just happened between them… had been so strange, but so incredibly romantic at the same time. It was entirely too complicated for her to explain even to herself, but she knew that in those few words they'd exchanged, in those few moments of closeness, certain barriers had been torn down that could never be rebuilt again.

Sighing, Bubbles turned and peeled off the damp clothing, her body still lingering with the sticky remnants of chlorine-riddle water. She sighed in annoyance, balling the wet clothes and placing them in a pile to the side. The new clothes fit almost perfectly, and she was admiring herself in a mirror against the wall when Dexter came back into the room after a quick knock on the door.

"Are they okay?" he asked, freshly changed into a different night shirt that was tighter against his frame. For a second she wondered where he'd gotten it from, and she was eyeing studiously, before realizing that she really wasn't admiring the shirt at all.

"They're perfect," Bubbles said, trying hard not to stare. She busied herself with perusing all the books on the shelf, noting that more than half of the book titles she couldn't understand. "Where is your sister, anyway… if you don't mind me asking?"

Dexter walked in, moving towards her hesitantly, as if he was nervous about something. He ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

"Erm- training… at the hospital…"

"A doctor?" Bubbles said, running her finger along the spine of a book that she could actually understand. She turned as Dexter moved even close to her, his eyes very cautious. It was bothering him that she was looking at the books. That was odd.

"No. She's finishing up her residency at Townsville General. She wants to be a nurse… which is completely surprising to me…" he said smirking, but there was something in his tone that was once again very odd.

"How so?" Bubbles said, turning away from the bookshelf, cocking her head sideways curiously as she noticed Dexter suddenly drop his shoulders in mysterious relief.

"Because, she'd never seemed to be very bright," he said lightly, turning and moving quickly back to his desk. Bubbles couldn't see what he was doing, but she definitely knew that he was picking something off the floor. With a loud snap, he quickly dropped something into one of the drawers and closed it quickly, trying to be sneaky about it. Then Bubbles remembered…

The weapon!

"Um… can I ask you something?" Bubbles asked cautiously, taking a step forward. "How exactly did you get past X?"

Dexter turned and face her, leaning back against the edge of his desk, his hands gripping tightly to the wood.

"X?"

"Oh… I mean…" Bubbles stopped herself, realizing he had no clue as to what she was referring to. That name was something she'd personally given it, so he wouldn't know what she meant. "The robot… I mean… how did you get around it and pull me out of your pool?"

"Oh that… Erm- I… well it kind of left…"

"You're lying," Bubbles said, taking care to make her voice sultry and accusing, just to get the truth out of him, all while taking a step closer.

"I'm not lying."

"Then why do you look so nervous? How did you get past the robot… and further more… what was that thing you just put away?"

"It was nothing… Just a text book," Dexter was becoming very alarmed, she could tell by his voice, by his mere body language that he was trying to hide something.

"I'm not that stupid. You were holding a weapon."

He suddenly let out a squealing breath of shock that was completely incriminating, doubly over as if choking on his own air. Guilty as charged…

"You know it scares me to think that you have access to a weapon… one that could scare that thing away…"

"Look… it was just a… uh… vacuum cleaner… yeah, one of those tiny ones that you use to pick up all the dust-"

"Do you think I'm stupid? You can't even lie well. You really are an idiot."

He stopped talking, and blinked at her. His stare offended and betrayed. But yet, it had been he who'd gotten himself caught, not her.

"It's complicated."

"How?"

"Just- forget it… that robot's gone… and you're safe now…"

Those words had almost made her feel better, but that was before Bubbles remembered X could find her at any time, at any place, and it certainly wasn't dead. It had in fact attacked her in her own home… it would only be assumed that it could do the same thing here, in someone else's home. She wasn't safe at all. Even though she desperately wanted to believe him, she couldn't. In fact, she almost forgot all about Dexter's strange, questionable weapon and behavior concerning it now that her mind was back on X.

"I'm not really safe… it'll find me…" Bubbles said, her eyes falling. She began fumbling her hands together in front of her, wrapping her fingers tightly around one another in a nervous, twitchy fashion.

"No, you're safer than you think," Dexter said, and he moved away from the desk and walked closer to her, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at her face. Bubbles turned away, blushing in her embarrassing state of depression, just trying to keep him from seeing her face in that fashion. It wasn't flattering at all, and she almost felt annoyed that he wanted to look at her.

"You don't understand… I know you want to help me… but you just can't… my sisters can't even help me. It will kill me and everyone who gets in the way," Bubbles turned and looked at him suddenly, her eyes ablaze with the rage that had been allowed to fester deep within her. She wanted it dead. She wanted it to all be over. Dexter seemed completely unconvinced.

"Even you…" she finished sadly, looking hard and deep into the darkness of his eyes in the strange humming light. She almost thought he was smiling.

"I think…" he started, but he trailed off, looking away, his face registering the fact that he was deeply in thought, almost considering something. It was the face Blossom always wore when she was deciding on the answer to a very serious question. "I think you'll find that I can do more for you than you think…" he trailed off, and despite the fact that the words were encouraging, while pointless, Dexter almost looked sad.

"I… I don't think you can… Bubbles responded, shaking her head slowly, her eyes watering up again with another army of tears. She tried to blink them away, but it was hard, considering the way he was looking at her; his face was so, unbelievably sincere.

Dexter sighed, closing his eyes, taking in a huge heavy breath as if facing the prospect of a great, momentous challenge. He looked back at her, eyes strangely fixed in a trance, locked onto Bubbles's face, who was looking at him expectantly, unsure.

"I need to show you something…"

Dexter turned, and lifted his hand to the book case, where he wrapped his fingers around a large, inconspicuous volume in the dark, and pulled hard.