Disclaimer: Thank Craig Mccraken. I don't - nor will I ever - own the Powerpuff Girls.


~ CHAPTER 12 ~

Questions


'You're such a little brat, you know Blossom? Always sticking your nose in other people's business. Always pretending to be the best. Always acting better than everyone else. You make me sick."

Brick was a smart and cunning boy, or at least he liked to think so. Most of the time he planned his actions carefully, leaving behind that reckless little boy that had caused so much pointless destruction. He wanted to scoff at all those years, wasted on pranks and mischief, long ago realizing that he could do so much more, cause so much more serious damage, with nothing but words.

He'd thought that perhaps the girl would be more like him when he was young, in a way, he suppose. That she'd lash out angrily, snapping and biting fiercely at his remarks. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he'd anticipated the times when she'd come over so he could antagonize her further.

He hadn't expect her to do what she did, especially after her previous weak attempts at shutting him out and rash half baked retorts.

The princess had left. Her eyes glazed over a bit, and without a second glance, left the room. No anger. No frothing. She. Just. Left.

It left him in a bit of a shock; he'd been so excited to see the heir to the neighboring =kingdom reduced to nothing but a wild, feral animal. He'd stood there for God knows how long, staring blankly at the closed door, mind swarming with confusion.

It didn't make any sense. She was a crazy, hot tempered idiot. There was no way she would be able to resist, considering the type of idiotic person she was. It just didn't add up.

After a servant came to report that Blossom had left shortly after, he'd been furious. Furious with himself, furious with his apparent miscalculation, furious at her. Her, her, her.

Dammit. He didn't know why he disliked her so much. Other than the obvious not wanting to be engaged to her, and the nagging fact that she acted so perfect and holier than everyone else around her, there wasn't much to hate about Blossom Utonium.

She was a nice girl, he'd admit, and it did take longer to annoy her than most, she was a quite intelligent, despite her failed attempts to come up with comebacks that weren't cheesy or overused, and though he would rather die than say it aloud, she really was a good princess.

But maybe it was that that made him find her intolerable. The fact that she was so mature and perfect and just flawless and it just made him so, so, so mad. He didn't like it.

It made him want to curse whenever he saw her smile at one of the servants, thanking them for their help. It made him want to just break something, anything.

He wondered if she used to be like him when he was under the age of thirteen. If she would've exploded at him, if she would've tried to strangle him. He wondered if she'd been anything like his previous girlfriend, Berserk, who was steely and harsh.

The thought that there was the possibility of her being so in the past made him feel better, if only a little. But it did, none the less.


'You're such a little brat, you know Blossom? Always sticking your nose in other people's business. Always pretending to be the best. Always acting better than everyone else. You make me sick."

Blossom was a mature and reasonable girl, or at least she liked to think so. Most of the time she would take care of everything that her father didn't have time for, and then some. Ever since she was little she'd been that kind of person.

When she was five and found a lost puppy, first thing she did was take it home to care for. When she was eight and her friend Robin fell down the castle stairs, she immediately rushed down to help her pop her dislocated shoulder back into place. And just three years ago, after recently turning fourteen, she managed to get half of the children that lived in the poorer part of Selodia into some of the History and English classes held by a retired tutor in a large schoolhouse she convinced her father to fund for.

Not many people disliked the princess, that was for sure. So naturally, she wasn't very used to someone so obviously taunting her, and admittedly, lost her temper a couple times.

She was so confused as to why he would act like that. She wasn't rude to him, at least not in the beginning, and didn't want to anger him at all. Maybe it was something she did by accident that made him hate her so much.

Or maybe he just didn't enjoy spending time with her. Blossom understood that not everyone was going to like and adore her, but she didn't exactly feel comfortable with Brick clearly bearing so much hatred for her. It was just strange.

She tried to think back to the last time someone was so mean and rude to her, and only a hazy picture surfaced amongst the years of praise and love.

It was a faint memory, from long ago. She remembered running home and crying to her mother, tears running down her cheeks as she choked out how she didn't mean for anyone to feel that way, and that all she wanted was to be good.

That was so long ago. At least a good eight years.

She couldn't quite recall who it was that called her "a disgusting, nosy brat that should've never been born", but she did remember that after the incident she never really set foot outside the castle, in fear of being so hurt again.

It had taken her mother days to calm the blubbering little girl down, to finally convince her that she wasn't a horrible person. Blossom had recovered, but only barely. She still hadn't completely understood the concept of people thinking that she was something other than a perfect, adorable little girl.

Her mother passing away the next year didn't help.

Blossom squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the months of despair and heartbreak, and turned her thoughts to other things. Reminiscing about bad events were never known to improve one's mood.

She turned her head slightly to the left, and caught sight of bright blue hem peeking out from the walk in closet.

The seamstress must have finished the dresses this afternoon.

Oh, boy was she excited for the annual masquerade party just a couple weeks from now. It was finally her kingdom's time to host it again! Of course there'd be many, many preparations, decorating the streets, making sure all the festivities were planned… And the dresses! Oh dear God, the dresses.

Blossom wasn't exactly her little sister when it came to fashion, but she still loved the beautiful fabrics and designs. Nothing too flashy or revealing, naturally. She kind of wanted to sneak a peek at what her friend Kim's mother had made this year, but restrained herself and decided to wait for her sisters to return first.

It was going to be absolutely fabulous. As always, everyone would be invited, Cador, Aleton, Gadrea…

Gadrea. Brick was going to be there. She groaned inwardly to herself. She didn't hate him as he did her, but she wasn't fond of him either. All the other years she hadn't paid much attention to them, only knowing that there was another royal family with three children their age.

She'd seen him and his brothers hanging around the castle ballroom where all the higher classes were invited to, standing in the corner, messing around - or at least his siblings were. Most of the time he seemed to just brood.

The one with the black hair, Butch, didn't appear as often, and Blossom suspected that he was probably one of the kids that just went hung out with his buddies and went off on their own, much like Buttercup.

Boomer, the blue eyed one, seemed to enjoy just go around, tripping up people, occasionally throwing frogs in the drink fountain (there was an incident last year, and he happened to be standing very, very close by, laughing his head off). But all little troublemaking boys did that, so she paid him no heed either.

Even though in all honesty she only glanced at Brick a few times, she'd always thought of him as somewhat… admirable. It wasn't often that she met children the same age as her who acted mature and professional.

The eve of the twenty-fourth was going to be so awkward.

I wonder if I'll have to dance with him? Blossom wondered dimly to herself, eyes following the intricate dark blue thread that adorned her sister's dress. Maybe he'll play his violin.


This is it. Bubbles thoughts were racing as she bounced nervously on her toes, standing before the thick fog that covered Gadrea. This is it.

After the incident with Blossom Bubbles was shaken, and put off visiting the nearby kingdom for another month. But her headaches were getting worse, and the number of terrifying flashbacks were increasing.

Even though her mind wandered often, and she would always get caught daydreaming or giggling at memories of the past, she knew that this was far too unnatural. Some kind of twisted potion, perhaps? She hoped it wasn't a witch. She hated witches.

She prepped herself mentally for another two minutes, chanting the words You can do this over and over again, eyes glued to the moving tendrils.

Another deep breath and she took a stride into the milky white.

There was no noise this time. No howl, no ragged gasps. She blinked five times and swiped at the fog before her, a feeble attempt to see better.

"Hello?" She called, but only a warbled cough came out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Hello." This time confident, more of a challenge than a question.

No reply.

Oh well, I suppose no on is here. I guess I should get going-

A whisper in her ear.

"Hello."

Bubbles stiffened, and the breath at the side of her face disappeared.

"Who are you?"

The wind picked up, whipping the fog around her.

"Nobody important." murmured a distance voice.

"What do you want?" She screamed, terrified of it's answer.

"I want…"

The tendrils rose up into a cyclone, and she stood in the eye, shielding herself with her arms.

"I want…"

Then the screeching began, deafening, louder than anything she had ever heard before, topping parades and festivals. It was all around her, coming from every angle, and she covered her ears, desperately trying to shut it out.

Faces, faces surrounding her, wailing, every one in pain or sorrow or fright or anger. They were all the same, misshapen, orifices lumped and small, save for the mouths. It was the same person - or creature - bellowing, yelling, shrieking.

The raspy voice, quiet and calm, rang clear in her head despite the volume.

"I want to remember."

The guards found her early the next morning, when the air was still heavy with mist and dew, sprawled on the street, hair out of her pigtails, her breath coming out in faint wispy puffs.

They brought her back to the castle, trying to get something - anything - out of her, but all she could do was tremble and croak incomprehensible words. The servants and maids left her in the kitchen, by the fire, so she could have some time to herself.

"How'd she survive?" Bubbles strained to hear the mutters from behind the thick wooden door.

"I don't know…last night was the nineteenth, an odd number, he should have gotten her…why-I don't get it…she should've" The man trailed off, into a low whisper.

"I know, it just doesn't make sense. No sense at all… she should've-" She leaned forward, the blanket the staff gave her to wrap around herself dropping to the floor, and pressed her cheek against the wood.

There was a loud sigh, and he slowly pushed the door open, and she leapt back, nervous at the prospect of being found eavesdropping.

"Never mind, I don't want to scare the poor girl. What she saw must've have been traumatizing. Let's just take her home."

She sat on the little stool, pretending to stare into the dancing flames. The two people came in, and kneeled before her, asking about where she lived and who she was, but they were empty words, going in one end and straight out the other.

Bubbles sat numbly, wringing her hands, eyes wide, the servant's whisper echoing in her mind.

"She should've been killed."


Took less time than I expected. Well, lucky for you guys then. The next chapter is already in progress, so hopefully I can upload it before summer vacation starts!