Powerpuff Girls Doujinshi: Boomer's Story

Chapter 4: "Sad hours seem long"

Boomer sat down against a tree, deep inside the forest he had flown into, trying to get his thoughts together. His clothes were ripped from the struggle back at the truck. He picked the loose metal and wiring from his limbs and looked down at his wrists, which now had burn marks around them from the electric shocks. Most of the pain from the shocks had subsided, but now he now felt fatigued. He touched one of the burns with his finger and winced. After that, he stared at his hand as if he had never seen it before.

Thousands of thoughts ran through his head. I don't even know who I am anymore, he thought to himself.

Was Brisbaine really telling the truth? Is that all I am? Just a weapon? Is that all I'm supposed to be? Are my feelings…my thoughts…are they all just a mistake? Are these thoughts even mine? My thoughts…are they real? How do I distinguish what's real and what isn't? Why? Why am I like this? What do I do now?

"WHAT THE HELL DO I DO NOW!" he yelled out, his voice echoing throughout the forest. Several owls flew from the trees, hooting. Animals stirred in the bushes.

"Hmm?" said Blossom, sitting on the couch in her house.

"What?" asked Buttercup, who was sitting next to her.

"Did you hear something just now?"

"No."

"Huh…weird," said Blossom, resting her head against the back of the sofa. "So, did you check in on Bubbles?"

"She's still in our room, talking to that stupid dog," said Buttercup, folding her arms.

"Did you actually talk to her?"

"No."

"Why not?" glared Blossom.

"What am I supposed to say?" snapped Buttercup. "I don't know anything about that kind of thing. You're the one who should talk to her."

"What makes you think I'll know what to say?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Oh, come off it! All the time you've spent with old four-eyes, and you're telling me you wouldn't know how to talk to her about this kind of thing."

Blossom blushed slightly, but then retorted.

"Hey…well…yeah, but this is…this is different. I mean, this guy is an enemy of ours, and then he just out of the blue confesses something like that to Bubbles. I mean, it doesn't make any sense."

"I still think its just some kind of trick."

"I…don't know. Back there, he looked serious."

"Yeah, leave it to Poindexter's wife to get all mushy about this kind of thing" said Buttercup, mockingly.

"Hey, shut up" said Blossom, her face still red.

"Anyway, how can he be serious? You remember what they were like. Come on, one of them suddenly changing that much. What are the odds of that? It has to be a trick."

"Well, how do you explain him throwing his brother into the wall like that? And how his face was so red when he was giving that whole speech."

Buttercup opened her mouth as if to say something, thought for a moment, then closed it. She thought for a moment.

"Well," she said after some thought. "Maybe he was just…umm…acting."

"Besides, even if it was a trick, what would be the point of it anyway? Ugh, this doesn't make any sense" said Blossom, resting her head in her hand.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing. Next time I see that Little Boy Blue, I'm gonna kick him in the face for this" said Buttercup.

Meanwhile, in Nevada, I.M. Weasel sat as his computer screen, in deep thought.

Boomer? Going rouge and punching Brisbaine for no reason? It makes no sense. Sure, he has some social problems, but I've never known him to have anger problems. Something just doesn't feel right… he thought to himself.

I.M. Weasel sat in his leather chair thinking for another ten minutes before he exited his office. He got in the elevator and pushed the button for the roof. The elevator gently slid upwards to the top floor, opening its doors once it got to the top.

On the roof, Weasel could see the stars, twinkling in the dark blanket of night. The only light on the roof was the light from the security guard station. Weasel could see the fat security guard through the window in the station, leaning back in his chair, watching Action Hank on a miniature color television. Even though he could barely see it, he knew there was a black helicopter sitting on a giant H mark a short distance away.

Weasel walked up to the window and cleared his throat to get the guard's attention. The guard turned toward him.

"I need the helicopter" said Weasel.

"No one takes the chopper. The Director's orders" said the guard, grabbing a handful of Cheesy Poofs from the bag on his desk.

Weasel reached into his pocket and slapped a crisp one hundred dollar bill on the guard's desk.

"My friend Mr. Benjamin thinks you didn't hear the Director's orders."

The guard looked down at the bill, then looked back up at Weasel.

"Well, Mr. Benjamin better have some friends to back him up if he thinks I didn't hear the Director's orders."

Weasel narrowed his eyes, grumbled, reached into his pocket and slammed another hundred on the table.

The security guard looked down at the money.

"Keep going."

"Oh, for the love of…" muttered Weasel. He took back all the money he had put on the table then pulled out his checkbook. He wrote out a number and signed it. He handed it to the security guard. The guard looked at it and widened his eyes. The security guard reached into a drawer in his desk. He pulled out the keys to the helicopter and threw them at Weasel. He waved his hand towards the helicopter.

Weasel walked over the helicopter, climbed in, after some difficulty considering his short stature, and turned it on. The propeller blades came alive and began to whirl. After a moment, the blades lifted the chopper from the concrete roof. Weasel pushed the controls forward, and he was off.

Boomer sat up against a tree with a blank look on his face. Sweat was still dripping down his face. Questions rushed through his head, making him feel like he was descending in madness. Right now, he was deep in a trance, thinking deeply, trying to get himself together.

Get a hold of yourself, for God's sake, he thought to himself. It was the voice in his head that told always told him he was acting stupid and irrationally. This voice in Boomer's head also happened to sound like Butch's voice.

How can I? I just basically found out my entire existence was a lie. I can't just get a hold of myself he thought, beginning to argue with himself, something he often did despite himself.

Well, if you don't, Brisbaine's gonna find you and screw your brain up royally.

But…

But what? You're too busy feeling so damn sorry for yourself you've forgotten why you escaped in the first place. The one thing that drove you to get out.

Bubbles?

What else?

…well, what can I do now?

Think about it. Brick and Butch will wake up in the morning and find out your not there. In the morning, you can just go back and find them. I doubt Brisbaine will stay, since there's no way he could explain your sudden disappearance.

But what am I supposed to do until then? I can't just sleep in the forest.

No, Brisbaine will probably find you and do who knows what to you.

So, where do I go? What do I do?

Well, first it might help if you stopped talking to yourself and actually do something. What are you? Hamlet?

Boomer broke out of his trance-like state and stood up. He still had a blank look on his face, as he was trying to push down all his emotions. Boomer never was good at letting his emotions out, since it always seemed to him that whenever he did, bad things tended to happen.

Like today, for example.

"Well, I gotta go somewhere. Brisbaine is probably still back at the camp site, so I can't get Brick and Butch. But where can I g-"

Suddenly, an insane thought sprung into his head.

"No. No, I can't do that. That's just…crazy" he said to himself.

As crazy as talking to yourself? Besides, where else can you go?

Even if I was going to go there, which I'm not, I don't know how to get there.

Ask directions. You don't really have much of a choice.

Boomer sighed.

Boomer flew into the sky, looking down. A few miles away he could see lights from Megacity. Boomer looked behind himself to make sure no one was watching him. He flew down towards the city, leaving a blue trail of light behind him.

He landed near a dumpster behind the Nasty Burger restaurant. He dusted the dirt off himself and walked into the restaurant and looked around.

Someone around here has got to know where it is he thought to himself. He looked around. There was some teenager with spiky hair sweeping the floor, muttering something to himself about a "box ghost."

No, that's no good.

He looked around some more. There was some fat guy with a blond beard tearing into a very thick hamburger and some nachos.

No, I don't think he'll know.

He looked over more of the tables. Most of them were occupied by adults. However, then he saw two kids in glasses at a booth, talking to one another. One kid had big, round glasses, and looked like he was balding, since he only had a little brown hair on his head. The other was a red haired person, who was wearing a lab coat for some reason. The red-head seemed to be depressed about something and the balding one was trying to ask him something. Boomer quietly approached them.

Dexter looked down at his French fries, suddenly losing his appetite.

"So, um…" began Otto. "How did it go with…you know…Mandark's parents?"

Dexter sighed.

"They were upset at me, to say the least. I don't really blame them"

Otto put his hand behind his head and scratched.

"It's not like you're the one who...I mean, it's not like it was your fault" said Otto, awkwardly.

"They seem to think differently" said Dexter, staring at the salt shaker on the table.

Otto put his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey…just…they'll get over it. It's just the shock. You should…you shouldn't beat yourself up about it."

"It's not really that easy. His sister doesn't' even know yet. Imagine how she'll feel when she hears it" said Dexter.

Otto tried to say something, but then noticed there was a blue-eyed, blond-haired boy standing next to their table, looking down at the floor. His clothes were torn and he had burn marks on his wrists. He wore a completely blank look on his face. He nudged Dexter and he looked at the boy. The boy didn't say anything.

"Can we…help you?" said Otto.

The boy hesitated for a moment.

"Are you okay?" said Dexter.

"I'm…looking for some place" said the boy, without making eye contact.

"Well, I'll be happy to help. Where are you trying to go?"

The boy paused, then spoke.

"Do…do you know where I could find the Powerpuff Girls?" said Boomer.