Chapter 5: Like Before

The City of Townsville. Sky. On Patrol.

3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1751.

The Girls were back on patrol again after the fun they had at the Rosey Parks Apartment construction site. Most of the time, they would fly around Townsville, braving the cold wintry breeze, which they had gotten used to tolerating, without any criminals to fight. Despite the fact that they had been flying the same route day in and day out, the Girls were hardly ever bored as the view of Townsville's skyline and surroundings were breath-taking. Even Buttercup could appreciate it. Sometimes, they would patrol at a different height or take a slightly different route to see the view from a different angle, but most of the flight control officers didn't mind as long as their general direction hadn't changed. If anything, the flight control officers welcomed the Girls' erratic nature and need for change, as it meant that criminals couldn't predict them easily.

"It was fun helping out the Mayor with his building," Bubbles started after there was a prolonged silence between the three of them. The construction work, the very act of creation, had uplifted her. Very quickly, however, she was beginning to miss it. "I wish we'd get to help him more often." There was so much more she couldn't even begin to express. Was this what peace meant? That friends couldn't see each other as often? Her mind drifted to Mister Blake – when would it be that she would see him again?

"I'm sure we will," Blossom tried to help her sister find solace in hope. "Besides, there's another way we could have fun today…" Blossom had purposely left what she meant open for guessing.

"The Princess' ball! I can't wait!" Bubbles exclaimed with joy, remembering the day's highlight. "I wonder what kind of mask you'll be wearing, Buttercup."

"Ugh…" Buttercup said in disgust. "The only kind of mask I want to wear is a gas mask." The toughest of The Three had spoken from experience. During one of the two bigger (and more disappointing) operations they had participated in back in January, they had to wear gas masks because of the possibility of toxins having been dispersed into the air of the building they were supposed to storm. The Foundation was reported to have a presence there, in a ranch on the outskirts of Townsville. As it turned out, there were toxins alright, though they'd found out that they were immune to it when Bubbles removed her gas mask because she felt intolerable itches from wearing it. Nevertheless, Buttercup had since thought that gas masks were cool.

The topic of the masquerade was hot between Blossom and Bubbles, at least. They could only guess at what Elodie Morbucks had got in store for them. She had been keeping it a secret - in fact, they had noticed that most people had been keeping secrets from them. Blossom thought it sweet. Buttercup felt it to be sinister at every turn. The Girls chatted about the masks that they would wear for a while. Blossom was able to find a picture of an old masque organized centuries ago in one of the encyclopedias Daddy had given her, and she wanted one with huge plumes of feathers all around, or perhaps one that would make her look like a Raven, a bird she had taken a liking to for its intelligence, or a Hawk, a bird she liked too, because of how majestic and brave it looked.

Bubbles wanted something cute. Something that would make her look like Octi or a bunny. Buttercup's preference for gas masks hadn't changed despite her sisters' best efforts to influence her. They'd tried giving her examples of animals she would like, like lions and tigers, but Buttercup remained unswayed.

They didn't have long to talk about masks, however, when their radios crackled to life.

"This is Flight Control Seven. Please come in, Bravo-Four-Seven, over," one of the flight control towers chimed in all of a sudden. It was another female voice. Blossom found it odd. It would have normally taken days or even a week or two for them to be scrambled for an operation again - and she knew that it was another operation because they wouldn't have contacted them otherwise.

"Hi," Blossom replied. "How can we help you, Miss Flight Control Seven?"

"Uh, you need to stop calling me that. Also, I'm married," the flight control officer broke a little before going back to her routine. "Now… Bravo-Four-Seven, we have a tip-off at the industrial district. Steele's Stellar Steel. Gunshots reported, possible USDO fatality. The police report at least a dozen perpetrators. Adjust your heading by 40 degrees to the right. Do you know where the industrial district is, Four-Seven?"

"Yes, Missus Flight Control Seven," Blossom said, her name change for the lady in the control tower had forced a sigh out of the normally expressionless voice. "I've been memorizing Miss Keane's maps."

For more than a month now, Miss Keane had been busy teaching the Girls some… extra-curricular topics. The map of Townsville, under 'geography', had been one of them. While Bubbles and Buttercup were only able to remember the most obvious landmarks and roads, with the both of them being uninterested in staring at a large piece of paper full of lines that could cause eye-bleed, Blossom was able to commit much of the map to memory. While she couldn't rightly recall every tiny little street and building, she knew the different districts, zones, highways, main roads, landmarks, and the more important buildings, from the City Hall to all the major police stations in the entire municipality.

"Course adjustment confirmed. Stay on course until you see a massive L-shaped, zinc-roofed factory in the middle of the industrial district, over and out." the flight control officer said hurriedly before signing off.


The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.

3 Feb 1989 (Thursday). 1759.

When the Girls finally reached the site, they could hear sirens in the distance. The police had arrived, though they weren't breaching the site yet. A special police SWAT van with a spotlight mounted on top of it was shining some light into the sky, painting a pink circle with layers of hearts in it into the cloudy skies above. There was no mistaking it: they had found the place where they were needed.

They streaked across the sky, waving at the police officers on site, some of whom waved back. Not all of them did. It seemed that no matter what they did, they couldn't please everybody. Blossom, most of all, had wondered a lot as to why that was - shouldn't all the policemen be glad they were fighting crime?

Landing on the zinc roof of the factory, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup immediately retracted their foldable wings and dumped their flight packs. They quickly threw off their jackets, making sure to stuff them under the flight packs so they wouldn't be carried off by the wind.

"I hope we won't be late for the masquerade…" Bubbles whispered, already afraid that some sharp-eared criminal could hear them, even though it would be impossible for a normal human being to do so while they were in the middle of a wintry windy day, outside.

"Shh!" Buttercup shushed her rudely. Blossom began doing her thing, concentrating on the roof she was standing on. It didn't take much concentration before she was able to see through the roof - it was rather thin after all, even if it was made of metal.

The factory was complicated inside. There were vats of molten steel, an area where they were cast into beams and bars and various other shapes. It had its own storage area, where finished products were put in huge boxes and containers until they were shipped off by semi-trucks. It didn't take long for Blossom to find the criminals in question. Most of them were holed up in the steel-casting area, about ten of them, which was like a long hall without a ceiling where steel was poured into different casts, and they looked like they were busy packing some things. A few, three of them, were in some kind of office, and they were kicking some person Blossom assumed they need to rescue. Missus Flight Control Seven did mention that there was a possible USDO fatality. There were catwalks above, forming a second floor, and they were occupied by a couple of patrolling thugs, one with an assault rifle and another with a sniper rifle. A control room for a crane loomed over some molten steel vats, and there was one man in there with a shotgun.

The Girls' radio crackled to life once more.

"This is Mullens, you kids there?" came a most celebrated voice. Blossom answered for the team. They smiled; they liked it better when it was Mullens representing the police. It would have been a coin toss if it was any old random copper - some were grouchy while some were okay, others hated them and still others loved them, but they could never know, and what they hated uncertainty. "Looks like we got to work together after all. Have you seen how many of them are there and where they are, Blossom?"

"Most of them are in this big place with all kinds of metal stuff," Blossom reported. "But some of them are on top and there's some in the place where the adults sit and work. There's twenty of them, I think."

"Must be the office," Mullens identified the place she couldn't name. "I've got ten good men here. You know what to do?"

"Do you want it like before, Mister Mullens?" Blossom asked.

"That'd work. Ladies first, then," Detective Mullens said.

Bubbles didn't like the sound of it the moment she heard that there were twenty bad guys for them to defeat. It made it more likely that something was going to go wrong. The last time they had fought so many had been a couple of weeks ago. Neither did she like the fact that they would have to do it like the 'last time' because it meant that she would have to go in first.

Buttercup had noticed the look on Bubbles' face. She knew immediately what it meant. She could feel quite faintly what kind of emotions were running through her sister. A faint glimmer of sympathy asserted itself. "Bubbles, you'll be fine. You were fine the last time," she said. But it was but a glimmer, temporary and fleeting. She glared at her sister when the timid one wouldn't shape up on the spot. "Don't chicken out and ruin it, Bubbles!"

"Buttercup!" Blossom scolded the wayward one before turning to Bubbles and giving her a quick, reassuring hug. "We'll be right behind you, Bubs." She returned her stern gaze to Buttercup, who'd put on a defiant front against Blossom. "Buttercup, since you've been spoiling for a fight, you'll handle the big group - but don't kill any of them! I'll save the man in the office. Bubbles, just do your thing and if the bad guys on top are still shooting, knock them out."


The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.

3 Feb 1989 (Thursday). 1801.

Taking a deep breath, Bubbles floated a few yards upwards and turned herself such that she was upside-down and facing the zinc roof of the steel factory. With a sudden, powerful thrust, she busted through the metal fist-first, baby blue light streaking behind her, before finding herself in a cavernous factory. She could see them all now - men and some women down below her, packing what appeared to be boxes of metal syringes, men on catwalks just about to react to her. Guns were quickly pointed at her, at which point she sucked in some air and let out an ear-piercing scream, forcing everyone in the factory to cover their ears and collapse behind some kind of cover. Windows everywhere were broken, the glass shards exploding outwards. Some of the criminals who weren't prepared for it were caught in some of the glassy blasts, injuring them.

The police officers outside were prepared for it, having known what would happen based on previous experiences. They'd hidden behind their squad cars to avoid the glass shrapnel flying everywhere. When all was quiet once more, Detective Mullens ordered his task force to move in before drawing and cocking his own pistol with his daughter by his side, who did the same.

Blossom and Buttercup crashed through the zinc roof the moment Bubbles' sonic scream had run its course, creating an even bigger hole. While Blossom was making a beeline towards the office, incredibly concerned for the man who was still getting beaten up, Buttercup dropped down in the middle of the storage area. Bubbles zipped towards the catwalk as quickly as she could - the last thing she wanted was to get shot, and even if she couldn't be injured by regular firearms, the sensation was still deeply unpleasant to her.

Shouldering her MP5, Buttercup tapped the safety off and began firing a few shots the moment she could feel concrete beneath her boots. Blossom had said not to kill, but she didn't say not to injure, and although she knew what her glorious leader was going to say when it was all over, she decided to play dumb and live in the moment.

In the ensuing confusion when the criminals were still incapacitated by Bubbles' sonic scream, she'd knocked several baddies out of the fight by shooting them in the legs before zooming to them in a blast of green light and kicking them when they were down, sometimes scattering teeth. Gunshots resounded all around her, but she was quick to dash around the storage area, knocking down a long and tall shelf when she couldn't turn in time, causing it to fall and crush a couple more criminals - not that she cared if they lived or died. Circling around another six or so remaining targets, she focused on them, and time slowed from her perspective when she was in the zone - before taking aim and firing some choice shots, putting bullets in the shoulder of one, the arm of another, and one unlucky soul had a bullet rip through his thigh.

Letting her MP5 hang on her neck, Buttercup rushed them as they were beginning to back away and look for a way out.

In the meantime, Blossom barged through the door to the office, finding three men savaging another quite severely. Blood had spattered the surrounding cubicle walls and the victim was screaming hell and high heaven. Two of the thugs were kicking him, sometimes whipping their pistols at him. Another was using a lead pipe, now bloody.

"Hey!" Blossom yelled to get them to turn around, and when they did, the ones with the pistols pointed their weapons at her, but Blossom was faster with her eyes. Shooting out some quick infrared beams, their paths made visible as they were lined with Chemical X, she burned the men in the hands, forcing them to let go of their now-hot weapons. Blossom shot another pair of low-intensity heat beams quickly, knocking them down. One of them hurled on the floor before passing out in his own vomit.

Stubbornly, the last thug charged at her with his metal pipe. Swinging it at the floating little girl, he expected her to go down in one stroke, only for his lowly hope to be dashed to the wall when Blossom grabbed hold of his lead pipe mid-swing and gave him a kick to his face. He went down in a single hit.

Up on top, Bubbles barrelled into a criminal marksman as he was still recovering from her sonic scream - being closer to her, it was much more incapacitating to him than it was to his criminal peers on the ground. The tackle knocked him over the railing, at which point Bubbles quickly grabbed a hold of him by the arm and pulled him up. After taking his rifle and pistol and throwing them off the catwalk, she pulled a handcuff out of her belt and secured him to the railing.

"Sorry, Mister Bad Guy," she apologized before running towards the second-floor control room. Another guard stood not far away, and his friend's knock-down had bought him enough time to aim his hunting rifle and shoot.

BAM!

Bubbles didn't have time to react. The rifle slug had struck her in the throat, the surprisingly powerful force flooring her. Her ears rung. Flashes of bad memory pressed against her mind, and she could feel it crack. Her vision blurred. But she remembered her mission. Her need to keep things the same.

Flipping herself back up on her feet, she charged at her second target again, and when he fired another sniper shot at her, she ducked and narrowly avoided it. Coming up to him, she flew to his chest level and seized his gun by the barrel. Giving it a twist and breaking it, she knocked him over the head with it.

Just as he went down, the third suspect on the top floor got up and fired off his shotgun, alarming Bubbles when the pellets struck her all over her chest.

'Why does it have to be a shotgun!?' Bubbles thought as she slid on the grated metal floor of the walkway, right up to the wall of the crane control room. Pressing herself against it, she could feel her breath going out of control; she thought she might faint. She hated it when this happened, and she couldn't help but to cry softly as, just as much as she was afraid, she could feel the pressure to move forward when she imagined Blossom and Buttercup glaring and frowning at her for failing one thing or another – it'd happened before and it could happen again.

The shotgun-wielding shooter in the control station had heard her weeping. He couldn't tell before, but he believed he might have shot the one they called Bubbles. Might even have wounded it.

Badly shaken but determined to get out of this alive – the boss had promised to get him out of jail after some hard time – he opened the door as quietly as he could, his shotgun still pointed forward. He circled around the control station, and lowered his shotgun at where he presumed was the bioweapon… Only to find nothing on the grated floor.

"Huh?" He uttered, wondering where he could possibly look for a little girl in such a tight walkway, only to hear, vaguely, the sound of skin rubbing against dusty concrete above him. Looking up, he was barely even able to register a pair of glowing blue eyes in the dark before the thing jumped him, knocking him to the floor. It slammed his shotgun into his face. The shotgun went off again, and it seemed to have shaken the blue one.

"Stop shooting at me!" Bubbles screamed hysterically, more afraid than trying to intimidate. The man fell unconscious after that.

Back at the steel casting area, Buttercup was charging the remaining few suspects she had left to fight. They were firing at her, but she was dashing towards them in a zigzag pattern, making it hard for them to hit her.

One of them, however, hadn't fired a single shot. Instead, he was aiming his magnum pistol very carefully. After taking aim for some time, he fired. The gun exploded, but it released a Duranium slug, which whizzed towards Buttercup. He was a good shot too, and the bullet slid across Buttercup's side – causing a graze wound, a particularly painful one at that as the slug had shredded a lot of skin. Buttercup yelled in pain and clutched her side in as she tumbled towards the criminals, knocking over even more shelves, sending rebars crashing to the concrete floor. The criminals scattered, with three of them taking defensive positions elsewhere, knowing that escape was impossible, while one of them decided to try anyway.

At the same time, Bubbles had dashed outside to help Buttercup, only to discover the mayhem and destruction. She searched the storage area for Buttercup to discover her under some shelves, clutching her bleeding side. They were separated by shelves of concrete, and men were shooting at them.

She poked her head out in preparation for dashing to Buttercup's aid, but bullets were flying in her direction the moment she appeared. Two of them had shotguns, Bubbles knew. She'd seen the guns briefly, and she even knew how they sounded, how the shotgun pellets sounded when they struck the metal surface of her fallen shelf cover.

She ducked, well, more than ducked. She was flat out cowering behind her cover, overwhelmed by the irrationality ruling her mind. Try as she might, she couldn't overcome it. Every cloud of shotgun pellets sent her way had only made it worse, as they blew yet more holes in her flimsy cover.

That was when Blossom appeared. Unlike Bubbles, she didn't need to survey the scene the moment she arrived as she had already done it with her X-ray vision on the way. Zooming in the air towards Buttercup, she pulled the metal shelf off of her, before flanking the three bad guys, flying up to their side in an instant before letting loose a flurry of punches and kicks, knocking them out.

Buttercup was bitter, really bitter about the injury she suffered. She'd seen Blossom taking down the three criminals in their midst, but she knew there was one more, and she knew where he was going. As it just so happened, he happened to be the one who had fired the Duranium bullet, and so she set off after him, over catwalks on the first floor, in between vats of molten steel. It had bent at a right angle at some point, so she'd disappeared out of view from her sisters.

Back at the product storage area, Blossom flew towards Bubbles and landed next to her. Looking down at the blue-eyed Angel of Justice, it was clear from the look on her face and the sweat covering it that she was terrified. Jumpy. The Girls did not sweat as easily as normal human beings because of their heat tolerance - Blossom, for one, had no problem taking hundreds and thousands of degrees of heat in her face whenever she fired her heat beams. That said, they could sweat out of nervousness or fear, and Bubbles, out of the three of them, was most prone to this.

"I'm sorry I-" Bubbles said apologetically as she continued to tremble where she was, sitting, still, behind her cover with her knees going up to her chest. "I can't…" And now, she was afraid of disappointing Blossom, her dearest sister - the one who actually cared.

"Oh, Bubbles…" Blossom muttered sympathetically before stretching a hand out for Bubbles to take. She didn't dare to take it because she was afraid Blossom might blow up. She was too spooked, and now every little thing was a source of terror to her. All Bubbles did was to stare feverishly at her as she rocked herself in her place as if trying desperately, and failing, to calm down on her own.

Meanwhile, Buttercup had caught up with her morbid attacker. It was clear that he had fired the shot that injured her, as his gun hand was singed from the chamber explosion; he had to sacrifice a gun ill-suited to Duranium shells to get what he wanted. Well, not exactly what he wanted - she was still alive, albeit with some skin on her side split into two. She could feel the blood pooling underneath her vest. The pain was fast becoming unbearable, and it made her really angry.

Pulling out her pistol, she fired a few shots at him in quick succession, putting a couple of bullets into the back of his calf and thigh as he was running, causing him to collapse painfully on the grated floor of the industrial catwalk. He tumbled further because of the momentum, still many yards away from the exit. Flying towards him, she had to push aside his arm when he tried to shoot her with another pistol. Taking him by the wrist, she gave it a snap, resulting in a cracking sound. The thug dropped his pistol with a frightened, agonized shout.

With the thug's broken wrist still in her hand, Buttercup threw a look behind her, worried that Blossom might just suddenly appear around the corner to lecture her about injuring a bad guy, but she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, she could hear what was going on with Blossom and Bubbles. Sweet little Bubbles needed some reassurance from Blossom, and her dear leader was providing it.

"I'm sorry I got scared…" Buttercup could hear Bubbles and her stupid, high-pitched voice. "Please don't be mad at me… I'm sorry…"

"You don't have to be sorry, Bubbles," Blossom comforted her bluish sister off in the unseen distance. Buttercup thought her predictable - she believed that Blossom had always favored Bubbles over her. "You've been doing so well for so long... Bad things happen, that's what Dad would say."

Looking back around at her attack, Buttercup stared at him hungrily, unable to contain her need for blood sport any longer.

"Please don't-" the man begged. "All I wanted was another shot of it!"

Buttercup couldn't understand him. 'Another shot of what?' was as much thought as she was willing to give the man. Nor did she care enough to even try. With a smile that only a sick mind could make, she thrust her fist at his shoulder, dislocating it. With a foot on his side, began pulling at his arm by the broken wrist. It didn't take long for her to remove his arm with a splash of blood and the sickening crack of bone and cartilage. Buttercup thought she was fortunate when she didn't get much of it on her. One less evidence that she had done something wrong.

The man couldn't even scream as he was in shock. Tossing the arm aside, she flipped the man on his back and landed on her knees on top of his chest. Forcing open his mouth, she seized his upper row of teeth greedily and yanked, pulling out multiple teeth at once. She stuffed the bony trophies into her pocket.

Buttercup looked over her shoulder once more. Nothing.

"I'm sorry I made you go alone…" Buttercup could hear Blossom whisper to their mousy little sister. With a chuckle as she relished the opportunity, she delivered a few multi-ton punches to her attacker's face, caving his skull in and dislodging one side of his jaw. Huge and dark unsightly bruises were formed instantly on his jaw.

The thug's eyes were still open, rolling towards her. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was still alive - a fact that Buttercup would soon correct after she'd had her fill.

Getting off the thug, she began kicking at him, breaking a few ribs, puncturing a few organs, before stomping him in a lung, collapsing a part of his chest cavity. "Ew!" she cried, but with ecstasy as blood exploded outwards, covering her boot. She had even forgotten, briefly, that she was injured by a Duranium bullet, or why she was hurting the man in the first place other than the fact that she enjoyed hurting him.

He was still alive if falling into unconsciousness rapidly. Buttercup thought it strange that a man could survive such trauma, but the thought was fleeting - the pleasure of hurting was paramount.

When Buttercup was done torturing the man to her delight, not that she could do so for very long as she was afraid of being discovered by Blossom, she cracked a smile at the quivering thug, before seizing him by the windpipe. Digging into his throat, she felt around for the actual organ as the man croaked his last. When she could get a grip, she yanked it out, quickly silencing the man.

Walking around him, she put a foot on his shoulder and, with both hands clutching the jaws, tugged hard at the head. With a final yank, she was able to pull the head out along with the spine and gullet. She giggled childishly as she watched the head come off like the head of an action figure or a Lego man. She had rehearsed this for quite a long while with her toys - and her toys, so plastic and simple, could only last her for so long. More blood had splashed on the ground, though she was careful in avoiding it.

"Now where's Buttercup?" she heard Blossom wonder aloud far away, her super-acute sense of hearing still active. Gasping, she looked around the factory for a place to hide her handiwork. Flying upwards, with the thug's head and spine still in her hands, she spotted just the thing: an empty molten steel crucible, with a giant trough of molten steel yet to be transferred to it. Throwing the head inside anxiously, Buttercup zipped down to the catwalk to grab the body, then up again to do the same thing with it. Speeding to the molten steel trough, she tilted it by the machine handle and dumped the whole thing in. She had to bear with the pain in her side and clench her teeth all the while, as she had agitated her wound in the process of hiding her crime.

"What's that noise?" Buttercup heard Blossom say, probably to Bubbles. Dashing down to the catwalk, she sat herself down, leaning against the railing. She didn't have to act as if she was in agony, because she was. The graze wound felt like fire or acid, and it wasn't the kind that could be wiped away.

The wayward one had been on time. The moment she sat down with a whimper of pain, Blossom and Bubbles had rounded the corner, spotting her.

"Oh no!" Bubbles yelped in horror when she saw Buttercup.

"Buttercup!" Blossomed screamed when she saw her sister. Buttercup's hands were covered in blood, and the others assumed it was hers. All thoughts of curiosity and suspicion had evaporated when she saw Buttercup injured on the floor.

Blossom and Bubbles dashed towards her, reaching her within a second. In the meantime, the police had breached the factory from every entrance, including the exit just down the catwalk the thug was trying to get to.

Buttercup was a mistress of deception compared to her sisters, and shedding crocodile tears was within her arsenal. This time, however, she didn't have to act. Her face was scrounged up in pain, her tears real.

"Let me see it. Maybe I can fix it like last time," Bubbles said as she knelt down beside Buttercup and reached for the Velcro holding her vest together.

But Buttercup turned to her with a glare and pushed her away so hard that she fell on her bum, doing so both out of anger and fear of pain, as well as a form of distraction from her murderous deed.

"Don't touch me, Bobblehead!" Buttercup cried as she tried to adjust her sitting position only to feel what felt like a spike driven into her side. She gave up after that. Pointing an accusing finger at Bubbles, she lashed out at her instead: "I saw you, you crybaby! You left me there and wouldn't come out. You're a coward!"

"Buttercup!" Blossom said but could say no further. Her green-eyed sister had put her in a dilemma. She wasn't wrong at all to be angry at Bubbles, as she had been guilty of inaction and cowardice, forcing her to pick up the slack. However, it didn't make Buttercup's mean words and aggression right.

Bubbles didn't get up from the floor, instead crawling to the opposite railing and sitting there, leaning against it. 'What's the point anyway?' she thought. In her mind, her world had come crashing down in an instant, because of this stupid operation. She had always feared that this would happen, and so the month of peace she had bought for herself felt uneasy at times.

"I'm sorry…" she mewled, on the verge of tears. There was so much she wanted to say, but couldn't. There was a kind of terror in her that wouldn't let go – but trying to defend herself with that would likely result in her being called a coward again. The word hurt, no matter how many times her Daddy told her that only sticks and stones could break her bones. And 'coward' was only one word out of many that were like Duranium bullets to her.

"Be sorry all you want, Bubbles!" Buttercup continued to whale at Bubbles with her sharp words, some of which were partly inspired by Mommy. "You're still a dirty little coward no one likes!"

That had gotten Bubbles going with her tears and crying. In the distance on the catwalk, four police officers stood there and watched – the Girls had been blocking the way, and they didn't want to get involved in what they saw as an internal dispute.

"Oh great," Blossom muttered, and couldn't help but to feel a little helpless because of her sisters. But she would have to work with what situation she was dealt with. "She's really sorry now, Buttercup. Can I see where you're hurt now?"

"He shot me here…" Buttercup said as she patted her side very gently, off-center from the wound as she was too afraid of touching it. "It really hurts."

"Here, let me see," Blossom said as she reached for her Velcro, at first wary that Buttercup might lash out at her just like she did with Bubbles, but when Buttercup allowed her to get closer, began undoing the Velcro, trying very hard to ignore Buttercup's cries of pain.

"Down on the ground!" a police officer shouted in the distance, likely warning a suspect who was still conscious.

"This is the police, drop your weapon!" another officer ordered elsewhere. They could hear some scuffles and the sound of cuffs closing and locking.

Buttercup's wound did not look good the moment Blossom was able to remove her ballistic vest. The shirt underneath was torn where she was shot. It was like someone had tried to skin her alive – the Duranium bullet had scraped itself a path along her skin in her side. She'd bled a lot from it, but at least the bleeding had clotted.

Heavyweight footsteps stomped in their direction, and when Blossom turned around to see who it was, it turned out to be Detective Mullens.

"Holy- you Girls alright?" he asked as he put away his revolver and came closer. Bubbles was still having a meltdown on the grated catwalk, while Buttercup was wincing in pain. They looked like anything but alright, so the detective did not press his question any further.

"Buttercup's hurt," Blossom said and got out of the way to show him the wound.

"Now that's not good," the detective acknowledged. "Aren't one of you the team medic or something?"

"I don't want that loser anywhere near me!" Buttercup cried. Bubbles cried even harder when she heard it.

It didn't take a detective to figure out what was going on, but Mullens did not pursue the matter. He knew that the Girls had their differences, but he thought that it was something only they could solve on their own.

"Hey, Moe! Get a first-aid kit right away!" Mullens called out to one of the police officers still looking at the Girls. Shrugging off his trench coat and hanging it on the catwalk railing, he rolled up his sleeves. "I'll patch you up real quick. I've had to do it way too many times, so I know what I'm doing."

Buttercup smiled at Mullens, not just because she was glad to receive the attention, but also because the arm she had pulled out of the thug who shot her was safely out of sight, having fallen under the catwalk over the railing when she threw it away - she hadn't planned on that, and it felt like lady luck was with her.