Powerpuff Girls Doujinshi: Boomer's Story

Chapter 18: "O, The Blood is Spilt"

"Just what the hell is going on here?" said Butch.

The first thing Butch noticed was that, for some reason, almost everyone, including Brick, were in static domes. Most were people Butch did not know, but Butch did see the girls, which still triggered more than a hint of anger in his mind. Weasel was also there, which puzzled Butch, but currently all these sights were irrelevant.

Before Butch stood two Boomers; One was closer to him, looking shocked, with a burnt face and a bleeding eye, while another behind him appeared more injured, but Butch was not close enough to get a good look at him.

From behind the static dome, Brick yelled out to him.

"BUTCH! WATCH OUT FOR-"

The Boomer with the burnt face interrupted Brick.

"Butch!" he said, who seemed to be a tad tongue tied. "Get him!" He said pointing to the other Boomer, which Butch could still not get a clear enough look at. "He's an evil clone trying to kill us!"

Brick from behind the dome, immediately contradicted him.

"DON'T LISTEN TO HIM! HE'S TRYING TO TRICK YOU! HE'S THE REAL CLO-" he yelled.

"Brother," said burnt Boomer. "Forgive Brick. Brisbaine put him under some kind of mind control. He doesn't know what he's saying! Please. You must know its me."

Butch looked at the burnt Boomer for several seconds, then glared at him.

"You are not my brother. Get out of my way," said Butch.

The fake Boomer recoiled.

"W-what are you talking about?" he said, still trying to keep up his act.

"You're not Boomer," said Butch, still glaring. "You think I wouldn't recognize my own brother?"

Butch walked closer to him.

"Boomer would never talk as much as you have in the last minute, at least without looking down or stuttering. Don't insult me. Now move."
-

From behind the static field, Brick smiled, surprised at his brothers actions.

So…he does pay attention to him after all…I knew it, thought Brick.

-
The fake Boomer still tried to convince him.

"Please, Butch. It's me, you-"

Losing his patience, Butch lifted his hand and slammed the back of his hand into the fake Boomer's face, knocking him to the ground with a hard "thud."

"When I say move, I mean move," he said, walking past the fake Boomer as he tried to get his head together.

Butch walked closer the other Boomer, and as he neared, noticed a ghastly sight. This other Boomer, the real Boomer, was pale as a ghost. His clothes were all but tattered fabric, and worst of all, his left arm was just a nub, with a bloodstained cloth wrapped at the end of it. The real Boomer looked like he was struggling to stand. He stared at Butch.

Butch, not expecting this, sped up over to him. As he neared, Boomer collapsed on his knees on the ground, almost as if he was about to pass out. Butch crouched down to him.

"Boomer…" said Butch, unable to find the words. Butch had no idea how he could be able to face his brother after what he had done earlier that day, but he knew he couldn't have stood by and done nothing. Back in space, he yelled out he just couldn't do this anymore; he just couldn't stand by and do nothing. However, nothing Butch had expected was like this. Butch would have never thought anything this serious could have happened to him while he was away. The fact that Butch could not have prevented that made him feel both angry at himself and whoever did it.

While Butch struggled to speak, Boomer spoke.

"About…about earlier today…are you…" he said, breathing heavily.

Butch didn't let him finish. He put his hand on his right shoulder.

"Don't…that's not important right now," he said, trying not to appear vulnerable. Butch looked behind him at the fake Boomer and looked back at the real one. "Did he do this to you?"

Boomer didn't react for a minute.

"Did he do this to you?" Butch repeated, more firmly.

Boomer nodded slowly.

Butch let his hand remain on Boomer's shoulder for another moment.

"Don't worry about anything now…you just rest…I'll take care of this…" said Butch. After this, Boomer let himself lie down on a small patch of grass around the large crater.

Butch looked at him as he laid down for a minute, weak and armless, then turned back to the fake Boomer, eyes full of rage. The fake Boomer was still getting himself to his feet. His emerald eyes flared completely green as surges of power formed in his corneas.

"You…" said Butch, his face red with anger. "You're dead!"

The fake Boomer laughed.

"I can assure you, I am very much alive," he said. "I'm surprised you saw through my trick. Perhaps I underestimated you. I'm ever more surprised that you knew to come here."

Butch's glare did not break and he did not reply. In truth, Butch saw a bright blue light flash as he entered the Earth's atmosphere. It didn't take a genius to think that Boomer might be somehow involved.

From behind the static dome, Brick yelled to Butch again.

"Butch, Blaine may just be a clone, but he plays dirty. Watch out! Don't fall for any of his tricks!"

Butch didn't reply to Brick's comment. Butch was completely focused. His rage was like a laser beam, focused in one spot until the target was annihilated.

"Blaine…" said Butch to Blaine, before he charged recklessly at him, with his fist held back. "DIE!"

Blaine anticipated his action easily and moved to the side of Butch to dodge the punch.

"Ha!" taunted Blaine. "Perhaps I was right after all. You are an idi-"

Blaine didn't have time to react as Butch, using the momentum of the missed punch with his left hand, quickly spun around, lifted his right leg, and smashed the heel of his foot with Blaine's right knee, with all the force he could muster. There was a quiet crunch.

"AHHHHH!" yelled Blaine, as he was forced to kneel down, clutching his knee.

Butch stood over him, looking down, his face not showing an ounce of mercy.

"No Blaine…you are the idiot," said Butch. "I've already won."

Blaine, his eyes watering with pain, looked up.

"What!" he said.

"You're weakened, dumbass," said Butch. "Not as much as my brother, but you are. I am at full strength. You were already defeated the minute I arrived."

Butch looked coldly into his eyes, which showed a hint of fear in them.

"You're already dead," said Butch. "You just don't realize it yet."

"Whoa," said Blossom. "He brought down Blaine that fast…he's something else."

Brick, sitting on the ground, turned and replied.

"Out of all of us, Butch is the best fighter. He might not be smart, but he knows exactly the right thing to do in a fight…but…"

Blossom turned to Brick.

"But what?" said Blossom.

Brick looked back out at Butch, than looked back.

"It's just that…well…" said Brick, trying to explain. "He seems…different…this fight."

Dexter started to take interest in the conversation and entered it.

"Different how?" he asked.

Brick looked towards Butch as he spoke.

"Well…usually whenever he fights, he enjoys it…" said Brick.

"Right, Buttercup is the same way," said Blossom.

"What bothers me is that, for the first time, Butch seems dead serious in this fight. He hasn't smiled or anything…it's…disturbing…" said Brick.

"Well…what does that mean?"

Brick looked once more at Butch's expression, cold, unhappy, and without sympathy.

"It means that when he said he'd kill Blaine…he might not have been exaggerating."

Blaine, not willing to accept defeat, slowly stood back up, his right leg limping.

"Butch, wait," he said. "You don't want to do this."

"No, I think I do," said Butch, as he threw another punch towards Blaine's face. Blaine ducked down to avoid it, quickly charged some of his dwindling energy in his hands, and shot blue sparks into Butch's stomach. Butch was blown back into the air a few feet, but quickly regained his balance in the air and landed back down to the ground. "That was a mistake," he said, beginning to charge bright green sparks in both his hands.

Blaine did not move on the defensive right away. He stood up, doing his best to appear strong despite the crippling pain in his knee.

"Butch, why are you doing this for him?" said Blaine, pointing over at Boomer, who was lying on the ground weak, staring at both of them. "I've watched you all, and from what I know, you and Boomer are completely different. He's weak. He allows his feelings to control him. He is not like us. However, you and I are not that different. We are controlled by nothing. You and him have never gotten along…but we can. We don't need to fight." He held out his hand, and smiled. "Join me…together we can destroy the Girls, do things you've never even dreamed. Nothing will stand in our way. Think of it…"

From behind Butch, Boomer clumsily rised to his feet.

"Give it…up, Blaine," he said, breathing heavily. "Butch would never do that. Right?"

Butch, looking down at the ground, did not reply.

"Butch?" said Boomer.

Without speaking, Butch walked toward Blaine, his bangs hid his expression. He neared Blaine, and shook his hand.

Blaine grinned, and began to laugh. He looked at Boomer, who appeared confused.

"HA! See what your feelings have gotten you, Brother!" he said. "You have nothing-"

It was then that Butch grabbed Blaine's index finger and middle finger with his entire hand. Blaine looked confused.

"Hey, w-what are you doi-"

SNAP!

"AHHHHHH!" yelled Blaine, clutching his right hand. His index finger and middle finger were now bending in the opposite direction. He saw red as Butch stood over him, with a look of disgust and anger on his face. "YOU BASTARD!" he said.

"Don't…EVER compare yourself to me!" shouted Butch, clutching Blaine by the throat and lifting him off the ground. "Why is it that every time you open your mouth, it just makes me hate you more!"

Butch's grip tightened on Blaine's throat, causing Blaine to close his eyes in pain.

"You and I are NOT the same," said Butch. "You want to know why?"

Blaine's face began to turn a different color. He started to kick at Butch, but the blows lacked the power to knock Butch away.

"The difference is simple," said Butch. "You and I are both scum. The difference is that I know I'm scum. You don't. Not a great difference, but it's enough. You think you're superior…but you're not. You're pathetic. You're a waste of oxygen."

Brick saw Blaine's breath dwindling and spoke out.

"Butch…you're…you're gonna kill him!" yelled Brick.

Butch looked back at him, still holding his grip on Blaine.

"That's kinda the point."

"But…but…" said Brick, stammering. "You…you can't seriously do that!"

Brisbaine, who Butch hadn't even noticed was there, offered his opinion.

"The hell he can't! Kill the bastard!" said Brisbaine, still angry over Blaine betraying him.

"Listen Butch," said Brick. "We can imprison him! You don't have to do this! You can't! It's…it's not right!"

"It's not right?" scoffed Butch. "And it was right that he blew my brother's arm off? Was that right?"

"Killing him isn't going to bring it back!" said Brick.

Blaine's face began to fade into a purplish color.

"Shut up!" said Butch.

I have to do this, thought Butch. It's his fault! This is all his fault Boomer doesn't have an arm! His fault! Not mine! His!

Boomer saw Butch was serious. That he truely intended to kill Blaine. Boomer took a deep breath, and tried to shout, but failed. His breath was getting weaker, which wasn't a good sign. Temporarily putting this out of his mind, Boomer breathed deeply and tried again.

"Butch…" he said, with enough volume as he could muster.

Butch turned back towards him, to see he was still wobbling on his feet. More blood dripped from the cloth on his nub. Butch saw the fearful look in his eyes.

Boomer tried to maintain a loud enough volume so Butch could hear, but Boomer felt himself become weaker and weaker with each passing second. His vision began to blur more and more.

"Butch…don't…look at yourself…don't," he whimpered.

Boomer was almost surprised at himself for feeling mercy towards Blaine, but Boomer knew that even though he had done terrible things, he didn't think he would have been able to kill him if given the chance. Blaine was correct when he said Boomer didn't have the will to kill someone. Killing Blaine would only make himself feel dirty. It would have made him think he had become as bad as Blaine if not worse. And Boomer had a feeling that soon enough, Butch would feel he had become as bad as him too. Boomer didn't want that.

"Don't" he repeated, once more.

Butch looked at the look in his brother's eyes. It was the look Butch feared to come across when he return. The look in Boomer's eyes made it known that Boomer was horrified at what he was about to do. Butch looked from his eyes to the eyes off the other people in the fields. On almost all of them were looks of shock, fear, and a hint of disgust. The only one without this look was Brisbaine, who was smirking with anticipation.

Butch looked back at Blaine, then looked back at Boomer, who still had that look on his face.

Dammit, thought Butch. If I do this…and act like I was doing the right thing…then he and I would be the same.

Butch released his grip on Blaine, who fell to the ground with a thud. He lied on the ground breathing heavily. Butch looked down at him, into his eyes full of fear and anger.

"Damn you," said Blaine, his voice wheezing. "Why did you interfere! This was just between Brother and me. I would have won if you hadn't defeated me."

"No," said Butch. "No, the minute I arrived, your defeat was assured. You were already weak. I didn't defeat you, Boomer did. I just made sure you broken enough to realize it. But know this…" Butch glared at him. "I could have killed you. Remember that."

With that, he lifted his foot and kicked the side of Blaine's head hard, finally pushing Blaine past the point of pain he could take before slipping into unconsciousness. Butch remained standing over his unconscious body before turning back towards Boomer.

Boomer looked at his brother, and managed to muster a smile, despite his pain.

"Butch…I knew you weren't evil…you made the…the…right…"

Boomer's vision blurred even more. Suddenly Boomer felt an overwhelming urge to sleep. His legs began to lose their power beneath him. Before Boomer could stop himself, he fell to the ground, as his vision became darker.

"Boomer!" yelled Butch, running over towards him. The sight of Butch running towards him was the last thing he saw before Boomer closed his eyes, slipping into a deep sleep.

"BOOMER!" yelled Butch as he crouched over his body as he passed out. He looked at his nub, and the blood pooling on the ground from it. He saw how pale his skin was, and how beaten the fight with Blaine had made him. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out he needed a doctor fast, before it was too late.

Hopefully it wasn't too late already.