Powerpuff Girls Doujinshi: Boomer's Story

Chapter Nine: "Stony Limits Cannot Hold Love Out"

Brisbaine sat outside his truck, waiting for the Blitz and Barrack, who Brisbaine liked to call the Imitations, to return from their assigned missions. He hoped there would be no complications.

After all, they're not as advanced as Blaine, he thought. However, that does mean they only know to follow my orders without question. I need to stop worrying. The real thing to worry about was Blaine.

He looked over at the truck, knowing Blaine was inside, waiting anxiously.

He has the mental capacity to question my order, yet he chooses not to. He wanted to kill Boomer even before I order him to. But why?

He looked up the sky, then shook his head.

Bah, no matter. This only makes things easier. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, John. Soon this will all be over, and PROJECT: ROWDY's final phases will be ready to execute.

He smirked to himself.

Yes…he will be most pleased once this is over.

As Brisbaine sat down, he saw a red streak zoom across the night sky. Blitz, Brick's Backup, landed next to Brisbaine, the red streak slowly fading behind him.

Brisbaine stood up. He was not in the mood to waste time.

"Did you find him?" asked Brisbaine.

"Sir, I have found the residence where he is currently staying," replied Blitz, without emotion.

"And you're sure of this," Brisbaine asked, still not completely convinced of his competence.

"Sir, I saw him clearly through the window. There is no doubt."

"Good," said Brisbaine. "Then tell me everything."

Weasel dusted himself off and examined his body for any serious wounds. Aside from a large amount of scratches on his body, and his lab coat being torn so bad, it was practically a toga, he was mostly fine. Some of the scratches were deeper than others, but they didn't seem to be too serious.

He tried to regain his bearings, since the helicopter being hit and crashing was the single most frightening moment of his life. He tried to distance himself from the rubble, fearing part of the gas tank might not have exploded just yet. He sat down on a tree stump, clutching his laptop.

As he sat down, trying to calm himself so he could depart and do what needed to be done, he saw a green streak of light off in the distance.

Is it…Butch? thought Weasel, optimistic.

Weasel saw the green light come into the foreground, seeing Butch's figure land near the rubble. Weasel was glad, because Butch, even though he was aggressive, would surely listen to reason.

Weasel got up and walked over to the figure.

"Butch!" he called out. "It's me! Weasel!"

The boy Weasel had called Butch looked over to him, and said something under his breath. Weasel thought he heard the word "target," but dismissed it as only the sound of the wind. He got closer to him.

"Hey, I'm so glad to see you, Butch. Listen there's some stuff I need to tell- "

The boy raised his hand and began to charge green energy in it. Weasel stopped in his tracks.

"Butch," he said slowly, "what are you-"

"Hello, sir. Prepare to die" said Barrack, without any emotion.

Weasel came to two conclusions very quickly. The first was that this was not Butch. Weasel knew Butch's manner of speaking very well, and doubted Butch would say something like that without emotion. Normally, he would use his cocky voice, and likely say a curse word or two.

The second conclusion was that Weasel needed to run.

Weasel turned and began to charge into the woods. The green ball of light from Barrack's hand shot out and hit some rubble, only missing Weasel by a few feet. Weasel ran into the woods, weaving around the tree. He could hear Barrack flying behind him.

Weasel hoped he could evade the boy as long as he needed to. His destination couldn't have been that far from here. He needed to run as fast as he could, which was what he was doing.

The question is if he can keep it up long enough.

Boomer sat in his chair, his heart pounding like a drum. He looked over to Bubbles, who seemed to feel this was as awkward as he thought it was.

Okay, calm down, he thought to himself. You have to say something. Just do what you did at the playground. Deep breaths, then just say it.

However, Boomer knew he could not do it exactly as he had done at the playground; that was different. Boomer was using Shakespeare's words, he wasn't using his own. Boomer had always had trouble talking, and was even worse at conveying his emotions. Boomer only used Shakespeare's words because he didn't think he didn't know how to say it himself.

I'm nothing but a shadow of a shadow, he thought to himself. How can I talk to her?

As Boomer was contemplating this, Bubbles stood up from her chair. Fear shot through Boomer's mind.

Oh God. I've done something wrong. I should have said something. Now she must think I hate her and she's going back in her room.

This, however, was not the case. Bubbles turned over to Boomer. She gave a half-smile.

"Wanna go talk in the living room? You might feel less…nervous there."

Boomer stared up at her, realizing she was almost as nervous as he was. He tried to speak, but still couldn't. He simply nodded and got from his seat.

They walked in the living room. Bubbles sat on one side of the couch. Boomer was tempted to go for the chair in the corner, since he was so nervous, but he knew he couldn't succumb to cowardice any longer. Boomer slowly walked over to the couch and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

He took a deep breath. He glanced over at her, and she seemed to be thinking.

It's okay, said a voice in the back of his mind. Don't think. Just do it.

Boomer took one last deep breath, and prepared to speak.

Dexter's eyes widened after hearing Blossom explain what had really occurred at the playground.

"Whoa," said Dexter. "No wonder he was nervous."

"Yeah," said Otto, who was also shocked.

The Professor rubbed his chin.

"Yes…that explains why Bubbles was acting that way. She was obviously shocked by his seemingly random display of emotion. I really should have guessed this."

Coop, however, was smiling.

"I don't see why you all are making a big deal out of this," said Coop. "The little dude is just in love. Nothing to fight about."

"You don't understand," said Blossom. "The Rowdyruffs were the strongest enemy we had ever faced. We see them come back and then…this. We were all really overwhelmed. But now, after hearing that…I…don't know how to think. And…Buttercup, what do you think you're doing?"

Buttercup was looking into the other room, peaking her head over the doorway to look into the kitchen.

"You didn't think I was gonna leave her alone with Stuttering Blue, did you?" said Buttercup, without looking back from the doorway. "Looks like they're just sitting at the table still…"

"Buttercup, you obviously have no respect for anyone's privacy," said Blossom, irritated. "Bubbles should be able to talk with him in private, if she wants to."

"You're just saying that because you'd want to be alone whenever you're with Ol' Four-Eyes," retorted Buttercup.

"Shut up," said Blossom, her face slightly red. Dexter blushed as well.

"You shu- hey, they're moving into the living room. I'm gonna follow them," said Buttercup, creeping slowly into the kitchen.

"You're the nosiest person ever. Do you ever think about anyone else's privacy besides your own?" said Blossom.

"Nope," said Buttercup, continuing into the kitchen.

"I…" Boomer began to say. Bubbles looked up. He gulped and continued.

"I…I just wanted to…say…thanks. From…you know…back there."

Bubbles became less nervous since Boomer had finally began talking. She smiled.

"Your welcome," said Bubbles.

Boomer didn't smile back, because he was still extremely nervous, and because he never really smiled. He hoped she didn't notice; but, she did.

"I just saw you needed help," continued Bubbles. "And…I was feeling really…bad."

Boomer was confused.

"Bad? W...why bad?"

Bubbles looked down, twiddling her thumbs.

"Well, after I went back upstairs after you were at the door…you seemed…sad. That was wrong of me to do. I'm sorry."

Boomer, upon knowing he caused Bubbles pain, looked down, ashamed of himself.

"No…I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that. I…I mean…I didn't…I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You…you shouldn't feel bad."

Bubbles paused for a moment, then smiled at him.

"You shouldn't feel bad either," she said.

Boomer was touched by this statement, and began to blush slightly.

"Thanks…but…it's not that…it's not that easy for me. I'm just…like that."

"Why?" asked Bubbles.

Boomer began to say something but stopped. He didn't have an answer. It struck him as unanswerable a question as "What is the meaning of life?" or "Why are we here?"

Bubbles looked down, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you," she said, misinterpreting Boomer's silence.

"No, it's not that," Boomer said quickly it. "It's just…I…I can't…"

He sighed.

"I've never…really been good at this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?" asked Bubbles.

Boomer looked down.

"You know…talking. I…kinda…lack confidence."

Bubbles looked over at him. She put her hand on his shoulder again. Boomer's heart skipped a beat.

"You should feel better about yourself," said Bubbles, sweetly.

Boomer looked into her big, blue eyes. Then, he looked away.

"It's…not that simple. E-especially after what's happened…"

Bubbles took her hand away, after seeing he was upset.
"You mean…what that man did to you?" she said, slowly.

Boomer didn't say anything for a moment. The reason wasn't because of what Brisbaine did; it was because of what he said. Boomer remembered his hurtful words.

"DNA doesn't carry memory, child," Brisbaine had said. "Your mind, your memories, are all manufactured. You only remember what we want you to remember. You only think how we want you to think."

"It's your feelings that aren't real. Face facts, child. You're not Boomer. You are not even a human being. You are nothing but a weapon. No, I'm giving you too much credit. You are nothing but wasted resources. Pure utter garbage."

"I'm garbage," said Boomer, without realizing he was speaking out loud.

Bubbles got close to him, irritated.

"Don't talk about yourself that way," she said.

Boomer, realizing he had spoken, turned to her, his eyes getting watery. Recalling what Brisbaine had said made Boomer loose his grip.

"But it is true," blurted out Boomer, his voice crackling. "I'm nothing! I don't know who I am! Brisbaine said I'm nothing but a waste. What am I?"

Bubbles scooted closer to him on the couch.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "You're Boomer. That's who you've always been."

Boomer, with tears streaming down his face, continued spilling his guts.

"No I'm not! I'm not Boomer. None of us really are who we are! We're just clones! Brisbaine said it himself! That's why he tried to do that to me! He said I was messed up! He said how I felt about you was just a mistake they made! It tears me up inside just thinking that all my feelings are a mistake!"

Boomer put his face in his hands, ashamed and sobbing.

I'm pathetic he thought. I can't do anything right. I just end up crying like a wuss. She must think I'm terrible. I raised my voice like I was yelling at her or something. What possessed me to do that? I should have just kept it all inside. I just made things worse! That's all I ever do! Why!

Then, as Boomer was crying in his hands, he felt something warm on his neck. Then, he felt something come across his chest. They drew him towards the other side of the couch. He felt himself come up against a warm surface.

Boomer brought his hand down and saw that Bubbles was embracing him. She also had tears in her eyes. Boomer looked up at her, shocked.

"Please…don't cry like that," she said. "It…it makes me sad too. You shouldn't feel bad about yourself. And you aren't a mistake. You are who you want to be."

Boomer's eyes widened. Those few, simple words were the nicest things anyone had said to him. Boomer had stopped crying, because he felt touched and cared for. Boomer had never felt this way in his entire life. He remained still for a moment, letting her hug him as his heart raced.

Is this embrace out of love or pity? Boomer thought to himself, even though he tried his hardest not to think of anything that would spoil this moment for him.

Boomer didn't know. He wiped the tears from his face, which was slightly blushed.

Finally, Bubbles backed away from him and wiped the tears from his face. She looked over to Boomer, and saw he had stopped crying. She smiled.

"Sorry if I made you feel…weird. I just…wanted to help again," she said.

Boomer had butterflies in his stomach, but did not say he did. He looked over to Bubbles.

"Thanks…sorry for…freaking out," said Boomer.

"It's okay," she said. Then, she bit her bottom lip.

"Boomer?"

Boomer realized this was the first time she had ever said his name, which made his heart beat faster. He turned over to her.

"There's…something I need to ask you…" said Bubbles, nervous.

She braced herself, because she was about to get to the heart of the matter. The thing that had been on her mind ever since that afternoon at the playground. It was a question of grave importance to her.