AU: Just an idea that's been brewing for a while. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Summary: "No matter what we are, no matter what we're capable of, we're still just teenagers." A raw anecdote that hopes to humanize kids who've never had the luxury of being mundane, and show how illusory invincibility can be.

Disclaimer: A few characters are mine. The rest of them are Craig's, but I own these words :)

Rating: R/Fiction M. They're teenagers. Sex, drugs and profanity are not unprecedented.

Pairing: PPG/RRB

Notes: - Inspired by the legendary "More Than Human" by sbj and the urge for representation.

- Strong themes.

A/N: Thank you SO much to everyone who's faved, followed and reviewed. It really means a lot :). Shout outs to 'THE POETIC UNDERGROUND' for their amazing poems, and STFUSAM for catching the MTH reference!

III - Be Quiet, I'm Thinking - Zed

"Sinning Twins?" Bubbles asked, as Susie dragged her towards the auditorium.

"Yeah, that's the name of the play. I read Billy's script, it looks pretty good." Susie answered.

They had a free block now and Susie had insisted that Bubbles follow her to sit in at the Theater class's open auditions. Boomer was also in Theater—which hadn't come as a surprise to her, he was clearly a very expressive person—as Susie had mentioned, and he was undoubtedly going to be auditioning as well. She was surprised that he hadn't mentioned anything about it, though, to be fair, it wasn't like they'd talked much about anything besides Choir.

In all honesty, Bubbles was kind of eager to see him audition. It still nearly disoriented her whenever she heard him sing, the practice sessions they'd had at his house did little to diminish this effect, she suspected it was certainly going to take a little getting used to seeing Boomer doing... normal things.

They reached the auditorium, taking care to open the doors softly—it was one of Mr Hughes' unspoken rules.

There were no more than twelve or so people randomly littered across the seats. Susie pulled them towards the front seats in the middle column, they settled on the third row, just behind Mr Hughes and his assistant. Turned out, they were right on time.

Billy walked into view from behind the curtains, shaking off the last of his nerves. Bubbles and Susie waved to get his attention, and he shot a glance at them as he reached the middle of the stage, coloring as Susie blew him a kiss.

"Okay Billy," Mr Hughes motioned for him to begin.

Bubbles remembered Susie telling her that each student would be performing a monologue for their audition, written by Mr Hughes himself. Billy took a deep breath, steeled his expression, then launched into the lines. Susie had to exercise a significant amount of restraint not to shriek her excitement as Billy finished his audition. Bubbles noticed this and laughed, she forgot just how big of a dork her friend could be sometimes, especially when it involved her boyfriend.

They sat through a few more auditions, with Bubbles growing slightly anxious as they waited for Boomer. Soon enough, he was striding towards the center of stage with the same confidence she'd seen on Monday at his Induction performance.

He immediately flashed the girls a wide smile—having been informed by Billy backstage that they were present—eliciting a mirrored response from Bubbles. "Good luck" she mouthed as he waited for the go-ahead from his teacher. Once given, the grin on his face instantly dissolved, he faced the ground, the frames of his curly hair shadowing his eyes. There was a sudden dip in the room's atmosphere, not in a way that antagonized the current rapport in the auditorium, but rather, the room retained its unity, and its unified attention was suddenly focused on Boomer.

"Good?" his mutter projected, "I haven't slept in two... I haven't slept in three days. I haven't seen my family in five. I drove twelve dang miles to deliver those STUPID costumes for you and all you're going to say is good!?" he flared, really, he did. Bubbles knew this was an audition, but she had legitimately twitched at his outburst.

The smile she'd worn a few seconds ago had been replaced with parted lips, all but mesmerized as he went through the scene. She watched as Boomer—no, whoever was on the stage at this very moment—cried in anger. Because the minute he'd opened his mouth, he transformed into someone else. She could make out his eyes from here. Red. Red and threatening to spill over with tears. How had he managed to do that? She'd been looking right at his goofy simper not two minutes ago.

The rest of the room watched with analogous awe, arrested by the performance that was being portrayed before them.

A realization hit Bubbles then as an image of a five-year old Boomer flying at her with harmful intent flickered in her mind, looking a complete stranger when she put him next to the seventeen year old boy on stage. This was a different Boomer, a Boomer who could sing, a Boomer who had a vintage sense of style, a Boomer who really didn't seem like he cared about inane activities like stealing vending machines and beating up a little girl.

This was Boomer, as he sniffled after relaying his last line, looking up at the seats as though they were filled to capacity as a single tear dripped down his cheek and he scowled, before storming off the stage, leaving a wave of scattered but raucous applause in his wake.

It was Susie's clapping right next to her that jolted Bubbles from her trance, she slowly rose her hands to applaud him as well, her eyes following him till he disappeared behind the curtains.

She felt like she wanted to say so much, to verbalize what she really thought about what Boomer had just done on stage now. Ultimately, she only found herself whispering a...

"Wow."

Blossom sped up on her way to Poetry class, she'd gotten so immersed in Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird—a work of genius, she had to say—that she'd actually missed the first bell.

She found herself smiling as she strode through the scanty halls. She was incredibly excited for poetry this year, the School Board had decided to separate it from English Literature so it stood as a class on its own. Blossom—an adorer of the art form—had been elated at this news. It was about time it got the recognition it deserved, and as someone who'd excelled in poetry exercises last year, she was beside herself with glee at the chance to expand her horizons in a full fledged course.

She reached the class right after another student and closed the door behind her as they filed in, beating the second bell by about ten seconds. She flashed an apologetic smile at Mrs Perlman who waved it off with a smile of her own. She retained her smile as she turned, scanning for a free seat. This class had long desks with two chairs pushed under each, most of the desks were fully occupied, save for—

Blossom paused, her smile falling as her bright expression gave way to shock. I should have listened for the bell, she instantly thought to herself reproachfully. There was only one free seat, under the desk where—

"Blossom?" The girl snapped to. "Take a seat." Mrs Perlman said, her smile laced with perturbation. Blossom blinked, then looked back to the free seat.

Bear looked up from his notepad, eyes meeting Blossom's. Her gaze flickered down to her shoes as she made for the desk.

She perched down on the seat, making sure to keep her eyes on her books as she set them down and peeled open her notepad. She could see him looking at her in the edge of her vision, she swallowed, promising herself to never read with Earphones on during school hours ever again.

For all that she doubted the Boys' return to town was a mere coincidence, she now wondered if that proposition extended to the boy beside her. She'd heard Bunny mention that he was the new guitarist in her band, and she'd meant to caution her sister on her heedlessness until she realized, she didn't know this Rowdyruff. She'd never even physically seen him till just a few days ago, and that—for some reason—made this current situation extremely uncomfortable for her.

He said nothing, in-fact, he turned away from her once their teacher started the class. That was it? He wasn't going to say anything? Well, it wasn't as though he had any particular reason to talk to her, and vice versa. But still, they were right next to each other, she could literally hear him breathing.

Blossom sat upright, slightly leaning forward with her elbows propped on the desk and her fingers interlocked. Bear on the other hand was marginally reclined on his seat, faintly tapping his pen against the blank white of his note, insouciant.

Well then, she supposed that was that. She focused her attention on Mrs Perlman, not wanting to appear disoriented in-front of him, besides—she thought with reinvigorated certitude—he was a Rowdyruff Boy at the end of the day. If he grew up with them, she imagined the apple wouldn't have fallen very far from the tree.

The class progressed with neither one of them speaking a word to each other, nearly ten minutes to the end of the period their teacher called for a little sharing before the class ended.

"I've spoken to some of you personally, and you've expressed your excitement for this class. So, I want us to make it as interactive as possible. Would anybody like to share?" Mrs Perlman said, and a couple of people rose their hands.

Blossom was one of them, she smiled broadly as her teacher's eyes landed on her. "Alright, Blossom." She stood to encouraging clapping from her classmates, Bear included. She darted the briefest of glances at him as she made her way to the front of the class. His intent stare mildly disquieted her, but she was able to douse the unease by focusing anywhere but him.

"Tell us the name of your poem, then read it out." Mrs Perlman directed, moving to sit on her desk, giving way to Blossom.

Blossom nodded and cleared her throat as she brought her notepad up to her face. "The name of this poem is Teeth." There were a few perplexed murmurs that emanated from the class. She tried not to, but Blossom couldn't help but notice Bear lean forward, interest visibly clear on his face.

"The day I lost my very first tooth, Was halfway through grade four..." she started and the muttering ceased. Silence pervaded the room, Blossom's voice—tender and clement as she read—resonated, providing a soothing background to the quietness.

"... I'd run my tongue along the gap, Where my tooth had been before, I remember I went home crying, And showed it to my mom..." Bear's eyes were locked on her as the words sunk in, ardent with focus.

"... She told me that a brand new tooth, Would grow up in my gum, In a while the gap would stop feeling strange, I wouldn't notice that the tooth was gone—"

"—The only reason I missed it now, Was because it was there for so long, Then slowly but surely over the weeks, In the gap a new tooth grew, And now it makes me wonder, If people are like teeth too."

She finished, closing her pad and facing the rest of them. Mrs Perlman launched into applause, and the rest of the class followed enthusiastically.

"Very inspiring Blossom." The girl beamed thankfully and made her way back to her seat as her teacher called for someone else to step up.

"That was really good."

Blossom—right after she'd sat—inadvertently whirled her head so fast she almost got whiplash. Bear stared back at her, seemingly impressed. Although, it was difficult to tell from his perfunctory visage.

Blossom blinked. "Oh, thank you." she said, surprised that he had spoken to her, much less commended her writing. He simply nodded before redirecting his attention to the person who'd just begun to read their poem. Blossom blinked again at his candor, unsure what to make it of it, or if there was even anything to be made. She chose to avert her eyes.

They clapped as the second student finished his reading. "Okay, I think we have time for one more," Mrs Perlman said, taking a look at her watch. "Anyone?"

Bear raised his hand enough to indicate, Blossom turned to look at him, suddenly curious about his poetic aptitude. This obviously wasn't exactly a realm of art that picked the interest of the average High School student, the scarce integer of students in this class—she counted twelve, including herself—only served to prove that point. She recognized about four of them from her AP English class so she imagined that, at the very least, there were no novices seated here.

"Sorry guys," Mrs Perlman grinned to others whose hands were risen. "Bear gets 'new student' bias from me today." she said, and the class laughed as Bear shifted out of his seat. He left his notepad on his side of the desk, Blossom almost called to him, but guessed that if he didn't carry it, he probably didn't need it. Which only inflated her curiosity.

"No notepad?" Mrs Perlman inquired once he'd gotten to the front of the class. "You don't have your poem written down?"

"I do, but I know it offhand." Bear answered, facing her.

"Still, this is a reading after all. For culture's sake," she said beseechingly.

He grunted, shifting his gaze to the table he shared with Blossom, whose eyes then threatened to bulge out of her sockets as the small book next to her began to float. It soared over the heads of a few students and floated right into Bear's awaiting hand.

So that's his special power then, Blossom thought as he flipped the note open.

"So fucking cool," a male voice whispered in awe.

"Language Mason!" Blossom and Mrs Perlman reprimanded in unison. The boy who'd been scolded hunkered down in his seat and the class collectively returned their gaze to a biding Bear.

"The name of this poem is A Dark Place." Bear said. Blossom sat just a little straighter.

"Some are born to delight, Some are born to endless night, Our existence is but a brief crack of light, Between two eternities of darkness, Where little souls are housed by walking corpses..."

Blossom felt her peering eyes soften, morphing from inquisitive to incandescent.

"...But there is a forest dark and deep, where we are offered eternal sleep, You speak as though you offer peace, Life said to death, I offer serenity, Death answered life, Life asked again, Then why do people love me but hate you..."

He paused, simply to take a breath, but the effect it had on the class was anything but casual. Blossom inclined, too enthralled by his reading to be shocked at the fact that he was the one wrote this.

"...Death answered, Because you are a beautiful lie, And I am a painful truth." He finished, closing his note and looking up at his classmates.

Everyone just stared back at him, gobsmacked. It was only when Bear turned to look at Mrs Perlman that she remembered to clap. The rest of the class followed as she did so, Blossom's hands moved on their own, really, as she contributed to the gentle applause.

"That was very good Bear. Very... raw." Mrs Perlman said, smiling fervidly. Bear nodded an appreciative thanks as he strode back to his seat, Blossom only just then retained the sense to look away from him.

The bell went as soon as he sat down. Mrs Perlman instructed them to focus on early works of Thomas Hardy for next week's class before dismissing them.

The class stood as one body, moving hastily for the doors, the lot of them most likely heading to the cafeteria. Bear gathered his books in a much more subdued manner, as did Blossom, though that was down to her having not fully recovered from his jarring poem. She looked to him just as he made to stand up. She honestly wanted to say something, he'd touted her so she felt it only custom to return the favor.

"Hey—" she called, he was already up on his feet. He paused and looked down at her. "I—I really liked your poem." She said, deciding to—momentarily—discard her distrust towards him. An artistic courtesy, if you will.

He looked at her, his face staid as he simply nodded and replied with a "Thanks," then, after a moment, "Blossom." He said, before shuffling towards the door.

Blossom only stared.

"Dude, you are so getting the lead!" Billy exclaimed, lightly punching Boomer in the shoulder.

Boomer chortled at the praise. "There's two leads remember, you'll defo get Jack." he said in reference to the other twin written for the play.

Bubbles chuckled from his side, they were seated with Billy and Susie in the cafeteria, as well as a few others from Choir and Theater.

"Man you've even got the hairstyle, we never stood a chance" one of the guys from Theater said to Boomer as the table erupted into laughter. True to fact, Boomer's hair was in-fact what one could call a modernized rendition of the popular 90's middle part—it was making some sort of comeback apparently—and his curls only accentuated it.

Boomer grinned widely as they continued to chatter, waving off the compliment. It was true though, given that she didn't know much about acting, she'd sat in at quite a few auditions since she'd always had friends in Theater, and no audition piece had arrested her the way Boomer's had. She was still thinking about how he did that and was back to his yeasty self when he and Billy came over to her and Susie once the period was over. His eyes dry as a bone.

"By the way, I heard your brother's Ravenhead's guitarist now." Susie said to Boomer.

He nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Wait, which one of them?" one of the other girls asked.

"Bear." Boomer answered, and there was a collective coo from the table's female occupants.

"He's so cute."

"You know he has a tattoo?"

"OMG yes I sat beside him in Chemistry! It's like a bear paw, on his neck."

"So creative." another girl sighed.

"You know, Brick is pretty hot too."

"I want to wrap myself in his hair."

"No way you can touch that boy's jaw without getting cut."

"Speaking of cut, have you seen Butch's shirtless posts online?"

"Shut up?! What's his handle?"

Billy abruptly raised his hands in some false approximation of frustration. "Oh great! Get ready for a hostile takeover guys," he said to those of his gender.

"I just spent like forty bucks on a haircut and a new piercing. For what?" the boy from earlier groused, catalyzing another round of guffaws.

"I mean, it's only fair if you think about it" Susie ventured. "Us girls have had to compete with Bubbles and her sisters since forever."

"Stop it." Bubbles said, shaking her head as she laughed at their silliness.

"That's a fact actually, this is karma, suck it up." one of the girls directed at the male half of the table.

"Yep, we're the ones with the hunting gear now." another girl said, directing an innocent smile at Boomer.

Any girl who wasn't Susie or Bubbles quickly did the same.

"I feel very sexualized right now," Boomer said, raising his phone to reveal the app he was currently on. "You guys want to get cancelled?"

Bubbles very nearly choked with laughter. The way she jerked caused Boomer to cackle as well, their laughs mixing in with everyone else's.

"Sooo," Julie's voice cut through as the laughter subsided, grinning at Bubbles.

"What?" Bubbles answered through her fading giggles.

"Got anything planned for the big day?"

The Puff's face suddenly lit up in remembrance. "Oh!" She beamed.

"Big day? What's the big day? Why is it larger than other days?" Boomer inquired, head swiveling between the two girls.

"She's talking about me and my sisters' birthday" Bubbles answered, smile lengthening.

"For real? That's crazy! When is it?" Boomer asked, grinning at her.

"A couple Thursdays from now."

"Are you guys going to do anything?" one of the girls asked.

Bubbles shook her head. "Nothing big, I mean, I kind of-maybe-possibly have a contingency plan for an extravagant outing. You know, just in-case my sisters change their minds." Bubbles said cryptically.

"If those girls know what's good for them, they better leave you in-charge of you guys' eighteenth." Susie laughed.

"Oh. They don't really have a choice" Bubbles said, and for a moment Boomer felt as though he could feel the shivers of a threat mixed in with her laugh.

"So what's seventeen going to look like?" Boomer asked, shaking the chill off.

"We're actually just planning to hangout with a bunch of our friends. Haven't decided where yet." Bubbles answered. She looked at him then, considering. "You know, you should be there."

Boomer grinned. "That sounded more like a demand than a request."

"Did I stutter?" Bubbles said with coltish authority.

"Forgive me ma'am! I will ensure my presence at this ceremony!" Boomer saluted in obedience, beaming.

Bubbles chuckled as she sipped on her soda.

Coach Andrews' whistle rang loud through the gym, bringing the cacophony of squeaking feet and bouncing balls to a halt.

"Alright, starting to look sharp again guys," he bellowed, his face twisting in what passed as delight for him. "Now, I'm done with you guys till October but that's not an excuse to slack off. It's gonna be open gym till then."

The passel of teenage athletes collectively muttered their assent as they began to move towards the locker rooms, listening to their coach as he singled them out. "Donovan, work on your handles, you're looking like a squid out there. Jackson, I want those three pointers perfect by October. Venus, Utonium."

Two sets of green eyes flicked to him. "Keep it up." He commended with a nod.

Buttercup grunted. Butch smirked brazenly.

He whirled his eyes on her as they shuffled across the court. "You know, we'd make a killer two-man team Butterboo." He sneered.

"Call me that again and I'll kick your balls into your fucking stomach," she turned to him with a growl.

"Jesus. I don't know what kind of kinky shit you're into, but that's a little over the meter for m—"

"Fuck off!" Buttercup snapped, and it took all she had not to scream. Butch's smirk fell as she glared at him. "You better stop fucking bothering me. You're on thin ice motherfucker."

Butch's brows furrowed in confusion as she spun away from him. What was her deal? Given, he had been mildly pestering her, but he'd noticed that her nastiness towards him seemed to be a default response. Simply entering her line of sight seemed to be enough to get her ticked off.

"Yo, what the fuck is your problem anyway?" Buttercup paused long enough to look at him. "If this is about that stupid villain shit, you gotta let it fucking g—"

He stopped at the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, his muddled expression only grew. She stared at him, her lip curling up in a warped image of amusement, as if to say; Are You Fucking Serious?

"What?" Butch inquired, frowning.

Buttercup's sardonic sneer melted into a look of sheer disgust as she shook her head. "You're so full of shit."

His face softened, the faint anger giving way to complete befuddlement. This time, he didn't call out to her as she strode away from him to the girls' locker room.

What the fuck? Why the hell was she looking at me like that? Butch thought, and was about to march up to her before an arm was suddenly hooked around his shoulders. He jerked to, finding it to be one of his teammates.

"You know dude, if you break our ankles during practice you're only weakening the team."

Butch laughed and threw his own arm around him. "You losers should spend less time ironing your jackets and actually practice then."

"Fuck you man." The boy laughed in good nature as they approached their locker room. "Hey, so, I got word on what you were looking for." He said in a lowered tone.

Butch's expression grew serious, Buttercup momentarily forgotten. He'd already gotten enough weed to last him at least a month—well, maybe three weeks for him—but he was what you could call; A Man of Many Tastes. He smirked broadly at the guy. "You know where I can get some?"

"This kid from Liberty High. He's on the down low but I know a few guys that go there so I got 'em to hook me up."

"He's got some good shit?"

The guy grinned. "A 'lotta good shit bro."

Bunny glanced at her watch, a quarter to seven. The Battle of the Bands was set to commence in fifteen minutes. She wasn't worried, or anything of the sorts, the band had met up for one last practice session earlier and played through all the eight songs they intended to perform tonight flawlessly. She just wanted to get there on time, after all, she was interested in hearing the other bands, apart from gauging the competition, she wanted to have fun herself. The most prominent hindrance to that wish? Her sister.

"Bubbles, seriously, we've got to be there in fifteen minutes!" Bunny clamored from the door of she and Buttercup's room.

"I'll be done in ten!" Came Bubbles' muffled reply from behind her door.

"You said that twenty minutes ago!" And this time, there was no reply, Bunny sighed and shuffled back into her room. She sat down at the vanity she and Buttercup shared, listlessly fluffing her hair. After a few minutes of mutual peering between her and her reflection she decided to change her necklace. Her phone chimed, she opened the text notification and saw it was from Pablo.

[You guys ready?]

She quickly texted back. [Yeah, we are. Almost here?]

[Will be in like 3 minutes]

[Kay, waiting]

She pocketed her phone and floated downstairs, past a reclined Buttercup on the couch, aimlessly flipping through the channels.

"Did you get her to haul some ass?" Buttercup asked, scrunching her face on a program she landed on.

"That a trick question or something?" Bunny groaned.

"You know, one of these days we 'ought to hide her kit." Buttercup said, then immediately seemed to reconsider it. She turned to the kitchen door where Bunny had poked her head out, her expression begging the question of Buttercup's sanity.

"Yeah, bad idea." Buttercup agreed, assuring Bunny she still had her screws tight. Neither one of them could even fathom the pandemonium that would erupt if Bubbles woke up to her make-up kit missing.

Bunny moved back into the kitchen, later emerging with two Pop Tart packs. She threw one to Buttercup who caught it without shifting her eyes from the TV.

"You know when Blossom is going to be back from her charity visit?" Bunny asked, plopping down beside her sister.

Buttercup whirred a confused look on her. "She had a charity visit?"

"Yeah, in Citiesville."

Buttercup's face contorted in disgust. "No fucking way? She went there by her own freewill? No blackmail?"

Bunny then assumed a reproachful look. "Your personal averseness for an environment should in no way hinder your inclination to aid the less privileged, something which you, quite frankly, need to do more of," she finished with her best Blossom impression.

"Dude... that was actually kind of scary." Buttercup said, lightly recoiling as she and Bunny cackled.

They continued to chatter casually, the cadence of the music channel Buttercup had settled on coloring the background.

Their doorbell rang suddenly and Bunny dashed over to answer the door. She swung it open to see Pablo grinning with his arms wide.

"Vamonos la chicha!" He exclaimed.

Bunny shook her head and smiled at him before turning an indignant eye to their staircase.

"Bubbles!"

"I'm almost done I swear!"

Bunny zipped up the stairs and barged into Bubbles' room. Pablo strode in, amused at the audible scuffle that was occurring upstairs.

"Where's Leader Girl?" He asked, helping himself to Bunny's unfinished snack.

"In Hell." Buttercup replied flatly.

Bunny—with no shortage of difficulty—eventually managed to drag Bubbles out of her room and urge her into Pablo's car as they all took off towards school.

Bear texted Bunny that he was on his way to school, while laid comfortably on his bed, ascertained that it was a safe bet to do so considering she was a girl, and would most likely take a healthy amount of time to prepare. He stretched himself out and sat up, quickly texting Boomer and Butch to get ready as well.

As he did so, he quickly remembered he and his brothers shared only two bathrooms. He zipped out of his room and was at one of the doors in a flash, Boomer and Butch's doors flew open simultaneously. They looked to Bear down the hall with his hand on a knob, then to the free bathroom behind him, then to each other.

Butch zipped forward instantly. "Ha! Eat dust pus—" he started to taunt but was cut off as he rammed into a flickering sheet of blue energy. He fell to the ground, hearing a speedy whoosh fly over him, by the time he looked up Boomer had his hand on the knob.

"Dickwad!" He affronted from his position on the floor.

Boomer flipped him off. "Eat dust pussy." He smirked and slid into the bathroom.

Butch's gaze lingered on the door with a peeved frown, before it shifted to Bear, who was still staring at him.

"What?"

"Just wanted to really rub your failure in your face."

"Go fuck yourself!"

"Can you guys shut the fuck up?!" Brick yelled from behind his door.

"Fuck you!" Butch retorted.

Bear laughed as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

A little over fifteen minutes later he was back in his room, stuffing his feet into his combat boots. He thought about texting Bunny, but he guessed she would text him when she got there anyway. He exited his room at about the same time Butch did his.

"Dude, when did you shower?" Bear asked as he shuffled down the steps, Butch right behind him.

His brother waved dismissively. "Waste 'a time, fixed myself up with some deodorant. Where's Boomer?"

"Probably taking videos of himself running his hands through his hair or something," Bear replied as he moved into the kitchen.

"I heard that!" came Boomer's voice as the door to his room audibly closed.

"We got any frozen burgers left?" Butch asked, floating above Bear as the latter opened the fridge.

"One more, but I think it's Brick's" Butch motioned for it anyway, and it floated up to him as Bear picked out a bottle of water.

Boomer appeared in the door frame, "You're going like that?"

Bear blinked at him. "Yeah."

Boomer shook his head, disapproving. He floated up and worked his fingers into Bear's hair, said boy only sighed as he uncapped the bottle. He had ceased trying to defy Boomer on these kinds of things long ago.

Bear's locks suddenly fell over his eyes as he gulped. He shifted them to frame his face as Boomer whizzed upstairs. His bottle was empty by the time Boomer returned with some silver hair rings, he clipped them on a few of Bear's locks strategically before drifting in-front of him, smiling proudly at his work.

"Are you done?" Bear asked with a dry look.

"Now you look a fucking rock star" Boomer nodded his approval.

Bear simply binned the bottle and started for the front door. "Let's jet."

The microwave dinged. "You think I can get Bunny to sign my abs?" Butch said, taking a bite of the now hot burger as they made their way towards the garage.

"Last chance Brick!" Boomer yelled.

"Shut up!" came Brick's muffled reply.

Boomer whipped out his comb and began to slide it through Butch's fauxhawk. Butch snarled and fruitlessly swiped up at him.

"For fuck's sake Boomer nobody's gonna be looking at our God damn hair!"

Bunny was calling him by the time he'd parked. Bear answered his phone as he and his brothers filed out of his car.

"Yeah I just got here. We're going fifth? Where are you guys? A'ight, I'm headed there." He ended the call and stuffed his phone in his pocket as Boomer handed him his guitar.

Butch suddenly had a joint in his mouth, he floated up to sit on the boot of the car and lit it up.

"See you guys in there," Bear said as he strode towards the school entrance.

"You're not gonna hit this?" Boomer asked as Butch passed him the joint.

Bear waved him off without turning. "Later."

He could already hear the music pulsating from the atrium once he pushed past the main doors. The atrium itself was another story, there was an explosion of color and sound as he swung the doors open. The air was humid and reeked of alcohol—well, he wasn't entirely sure if a person lacking a super sense of smell could pick it up, but he did quite easily. The crowd had amassed in-front of the stage where a band was currently performing, it seemed a large percentage of the student body was present, the atrium was packed.

Bear muscled his way through the crowd, deciding that flying would draw too much attention. He eventually emerged near the ramshackle stage and arced around it. He could already see the other bands who, as well as rocking out to the band currently on stage, were preparing to get up on the stage themselves.

He caught sight of his own band at the edge of the room, laughing animatedly at Harry's dancing. Buttercup and Bubbles were with them, though, he watched the latter wave goodbye to Bunny as they left them, along with Pablo. He inevitably entered their line of sight as he approached, Buttercup threw him a custom glare which he only entertained for a second before averting his eyes. Pablo—and strangely Bubbles—though, were smiling brightly at him, and they called out to him right as he walked past them.

"Good luck Bear!" They yelled over the music in unison. He arched a surprised brow, but replied nonetheless.

"Thanks!" He projected, putting up a dinky smile as he watched them disappear beside the stage arm-in-arm, tailing Buttercup to the crowd. He turned back to to the band as they playfully howled at him in reverence. Harry in particular pumping a fist in the air as he reached them.

"Eyyy, look at you committing to the stereotype." Bunny laughed, her eyes on his hair.

"Fuck off." He jived back with a laugh of his own.

"Look who's here." Bubbles said over the raucous cheers as the first band wrapped up. Buttercup and Pablo followed her line of sight to see Butch and Boomer howling their support as well.

"Like a friggin' rash that guy." Buttercup said, scowling.

"Girl, you need to let yourself enjoy this." Pablo said, nudging her. Bubbles did the same and she snarled at the both of them, they only laughed in return, holding her firmly in their middle.

Naturally, Butch's mere presence had soured her mood significantly, but after the next three bands performed, Buttercup had loosened up considerably. The fact that the band currently on stage seemed to be strictly metal was a very big factor, and as they wrapped up she was uncharacteristically springing along with the crowd, suddenly looking the most animated out of her, Bubbles and Pablo.

"Those guys were fucking sick!" She cackled, exhilarated. Bubbles laughed, happy that she was having a good time.

"Now for the main event!" Pablo beamed giddily as the senior who was the acting host tonight strode on to the mic.

As he touted the band that'd just exited the crowd already began cheering in anticipation.

"ARE YOU FUCKING READY!" The host exclaimed and there was a collective roar of affirmation.

"GIVE IT UP, FOR RAVENHEEEEEAAD!"

Another roar followed up, this one even louder. Buttercup wolf howled as Bubbles and Pablo bounced exuberantly. There was a sudden explosion of blue light above them, and they looked up to see an eruption of fireworks-esque energy. A lot of the students who were near them turned to Boomer, who had forged a blue mini-canon in his hand.

"Woah, he can do that?!" Bubbles chortled as Butch whooed and Boomer released another shot into the air. This time the students howled desirously as the ball of energy exploded above them.

"That fucker sure knows how to make a scene." Buttercup said, but even she couldn't keep the amused grin off of her face. Boomer's energy was annoyingly contagious.

Along with the rest of the crowd, she turned back to the stage as the members of Ravenhead sauntered up on it. Her grin fell as her eyes fell on Bear, his unfamiliar presence seemed to beget that effect on everyone present as the hall quieted down, numerous eyes watching intently as he clutched his guitar at the ready. From Buttercup's side, Pablo could barely contain himself, his feet already threatening to vault into the air.

Bubbles seemed equally as giddy, her eyes roamed over to Butch and Boomer who were smirking in anticipation, looking visibly confident that their brother was about to bring the house down. Her eyes flicked to Buttercup who was giving Bear a skeptical look, then to the stage itself. All of them looked set now.

Bear surveyed the crowd pokily before his eyes settled on Bunny's. She smiled at him and nodded. That was his cue.

The stage suddenly exploded into a wave of sound that spread throughout the atrium, stunning the crowd. Everyone's jaws dropped in unison, including Buttercup's. Bear's fingers flew across the strings at an alarmingly high speed, which was absolutely criminal considering the perfect notes he was hitting with unbelievable dexterity and fluidity. On top of that, his disposition had completely morphed and he was suddenly so agile, whipping his hair animatedly as he strung out the notes. He was absolutely radiating an upbeat energy that slowly worked its way into the crowd.

Soon enough, they had completely recovered and were now cheering loudly. Bubbles had to consciously keep from straight up flying in excitement as she shrieked, Pablo mirroring her. Buttercup was still in shock, staring at Bear in disbelief as his commanding stage presence lifted off the crowd who ricocheted his energy in tidal waves.

"Holy fuck." She breathed out. That bastard was...

When Bear rhythmically picked at a note intermittently and the rest of the band came in at the last pick, Buttercup shook herself out of it and succumbed to the fucking music. Yelling with similar hilarity with the crowd as Bunny bellowed out the first song, Boomer's fireworks continuing to light up the atrium.

Fortunately, at the exact time Ravenhead had concluded their performance—everyone present at that atrium would have said that conclusion came far too soon—some night security personnel came to inform the students that their allocated time on school grounds had been exhausted. They had obediently began to disperse immediately, most of them eager to give their Friday night a fitting end elsewhere.

Meanwhile, the band remained on stage momentarily, allowing themselves revel in the post-performance high. Endlessly hailing each other jovially.

Bunny was too elated, she was helplessly driven by the familiar, intoxicating rush of rhapsody that was still flowing through her entire body. So, she didn't let herself think about it as she bounded up and threw her arms around an unprepared Bear.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! You were so good!" she touted, laughing as she gripped him.

Though extremely taken by surprise, he couldn't help but laugh along with her, allowing his arms wrap around her in a similar fashion. "You were so good." He reciprocated her compliment.

His voice—having been so close to her ear—seemed to douse her euphoria slightly as she now consciously registered the practically non-existent proximity between them. She peeled herself off of him, chuckling awkwardly, almost apologetically.

Bear didn't have time to comment on it as he was suddenly assaulted by two distinct green and blue streaks.

"Motherfucker!" Butch cackled as he ribbed him. Boomer replicated this action on his other side while simultaneously ruffling his hair.

"Holy shit man! You killed it you God damn bastard!" The blonde yelled proudly.

Bear laughed along with his brothers as they roughed him up. Shoving at them in a vain attempt to get them to stop.

Bunny laughed at the sight, swiveling at the shriek she heard erupt from behind her. She herself didn't have anytime to react before Bubbles and Pablo managed to bear-hug her at the same time.

"Aaaaaahhhh!" Bubbles articulated.

"Build this woman a statue!" Pablo exclaimed as Bunny chortled.

After some prolonged lauding, they both eventually released her and went to go praise the others, allowing Buttercup to finally come into her view. Said girl was broadly smirking at her, Bunny mirrored her expression.

"Bitch!" They said in unison, and Buttercup cackled as she let Bunny embrace her. "Man, how does that never fucking get old?" she said as they separated.

"Girl, you know they don't make 'em like this anywhere." Bunny grinned, caressing her throat with her fingers.

Buttercup shook her head with a snort, her eyes shifted over to the boys, Butch and Boomer had just freed their brother and now Bear's eyes met hers. Both their grins fell instantly, but their gazes lingered. Bunny followed her sister's line of sight, watching as Bear made his way towards them.

"So?" He said impassively upon reaching them, never breaking eye contact with Buttercup.

A knowing smile found its way to Bunny's lips as she looked back to Buttercup, equally awaiting her response.

The girl folded her arms and hunched her shoulders up. "So let's see, on a suck-meter you're probably a 4, not a 7 like I thought you were, congratulations."

Bear took in her answer as he stared at her, scrutinizing her unwavering staid expression. Then, slowly, his lips upturned into a smirk.

She smirked back.

The band gathered their equipment as they all filed out the back exit. Boomer found it a little strange that Bubbles was all but clinging to him, but he was too stoned to question it. Said girl threw the quickest of quick glances over her shoulder before averting her gaze. Behind her, Kim only stared as she walked arm-in-arm with Pablo. Butch and Mitch chortled as they passed a joint between them, with Harry indulging as well. Bear, Bunny and Buttercup tailed the group as they approached Harry's van in the emptying school lot.

After a few more cordial exchanges, they all decided to disperse to their different destinations. The Boys bid their farewells to the Girls as they made for Pablo's car, Butch paused suddenly, flicking his eyes to Buttercup, watching as she trailed her chattering sisters. He looked over to his brothers who were also chattering obliviously. He rushed forward and grabbed Buttercup by the arm, spinning her around to face him.

"Yo, chill for a sec." he said.

Buttercup's face went indignant, her eyes glowing as she she wrenched her arm from his grip. "Do you have fucking brain damage?" she snarled.

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" he retorted, his face twisted in anger as well.

"Are you stupid? Like I need a fucking excuse to hate you."

"As much as it pains me to make you think I give a shit, we're actually gonna be seeing a lot of each other unfortunately. So you might as well tell me what the fuck this is about." Butch groused and for a second, Buttercup's expression visibly cooled.

Her fury had transformed into genuine surprise as she stared at him. "No... no way. You're actually being serious... you don't remember..."

Butch simmered down himself, furrowing his brows in confusion.

For a moment they just looked at each other, passing car revs and the distant chatter of their friends and siblings filling in the silence.

Buttercup released a similarly bitter laugh as she had earlier in the day. "Of-course you don't."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Butch's glare returned. Buttercup simply glared back.

Butch scoffed, making to walk around her. "Fine then, fucking swallow it if you want to. See if I give a—"

She shoved him back. "What the fu—" Butch paused at her glare, deeper and holding even more fury than it had a second ago.

"No, you want to know right? Dig deep asshole." she growled.

He stared, muddled. Okay, maybe this chick was just crazy because what the hell was going on here?

"Last time we saw each other before you and your brothers disappeared for three years," she hinted. "At my fucking playground, remember your payback?" she looked like if she kept talking she might hit him, but she fisted her hands. It was too dark for Butch to notice they were shaking lightly.

He raked his brain, trying to spot a memory that matched the description she was giving, encouraged by her faintly glimmering eyes. Before he and brothers left Townsville? If she was talking about the first time, that meant he was like, fucking nine. Well, she sure knew how to hold a fucking grudge. A playground? His payback? What fucking payback? He did a lot of stupid shit when he was that age, if she was talking about some measly prank or something, then he—

His brain came to an abrupt halt, highlighting recognition. Wait. A Prank. Eight years ago... a playground... when did I fight her in a playgro—

Butch's eyes suddenly widened as the memory hit him. He'd only ever encountered her once on a school playground, he remembered that. It wasn't a fight, it was—he was bored and... and...

Butch's lips subtly parted in a gape. It was spotty, and he couldn't remember the exact details, but one detail, that detail was enough.

"Yeah," Buttercup's voice dragged him out of his musing. "Remember now?" She scowled.

Butch's throat suddenly felt clogged, like there was a lump that had swollen rapidly right at the nape of his pipe. How did he—how had he forgotten that? It had completely eluded him, so he obviously had never even thought of it after its occurrence. He stared down at a livid Buttercup, and for the first time in his entire life, he imagined that his expression clearly bespoke the immense guilt that had suddenly washed over him.

"Butch! What's up?!" Boomer projected. Butch looked up to see him and Bear by the latter's car. His voice had alerted Buttercup's sisters and now they were looking back from a little further down, Butch thought they looked equally shocked to see him talking to Buttercup, but it was dark, he couldn't really tell.

Buttercup folded her arms and began walking in their direction, shooting one last glare at Butch, it was a lingering one, one he was able to inadvertently absorb as the guilt in him suddenly felt piercing. Eventually, she peeled her eyes away from him in disgust.

Fuck.

It took Boomer calling out his name again to snap him out of his funk. And with one last glance at Buttercup's retreating form, he silently floated over to his brothers.

Fuck.

"How was it?" Blossom asked conversationally, cutting into her lasagna.

"It was so awesome, you should have been there! Bunny was so good!" Bubbles chirped.

"We all were really," Bunny said, smiling appreciatively at Bubbles.

"Bear's like, ridiculous. Where did he learn how to play like that?" she added.

"I still don't think you should be so lax with him." Blossom said to Bunny, who rolled her eyes.

"Bloss, you can't still be on that."

"If you'd seen just how louche and villainous they were, you'd know my distrust is completely warranted. People like that don't change so easily."

Bunny was suddenly frowning. "We literally didn't see them for over five years, and we know they weren't living criminal lives in that time-frame."

"Technically, we don't know."

"So you think their mom is evil?" Bunny arched a jaded brow, placing her cheek in her palm.

Bubbles beat Blossom to the punch. "She doesn't seem evil at all, she's actually so sweet," she said.

Two pairs of eyes whirled on her. "How would you know?" Blossom inquired.

"I met her." Bubbles replied casually, chewing.

A beat of silence passed, then…

"What?! When?! How?!" Blossom and Bunny echoed, incredulous.

In that moment, Bubbles just then realized that she hadn't actually mentioned that she'd been to the Boys' house—twice, in-fact—to either of her sisters. She looked to Blossom, now also factoring in her current opinion on the Boys' integrity.

"Well..." she started, "I've, um... I've been to their house." she answered them, taking her time to swallow.

Most people wouldn't have believed her, but Bubbles could have sworn she'd actually heard her sisters' simultaneous blink.

"You've what?!" Blossom exclaimed an indignant reproach.

"Boomer and I have a Choir assignment we have to rehearse which totally wasn't my fault by the way, he forced me to be his partner. Well, he didn't, exactly, but he did! And we rehearse at this place because I don't think it'd be a good idea for dad to see him in our house..." she trailed off after releasing all that in practically one breath, studying Blossom's expression which was a cemented, admonishing glare.

"I guess dad wouldn't have been the only one not pleased with that sight. So... I stand corrected."

"You chose to go to their house?" Blossom clamored.

"We can't exactly practice a song in the, you know, library or something..."

"Do you have any idea how much potential danger you're putting yourself in?!" Blossom said, denying Bubbles a chance to deflect.

"So, when you said you were going to study at a friend's after we fought that monster on Wednesday, you were talking about Boomer?" Bunny—who'd assumed a strange look at Bubbles' revelation—asked in a much tamer tone than her leader.

Bubbles let out an awkward laugh, "Yeah," she answered, her eyes flicking back to those burning pink orbs, she pouted.

"It's not like I wasn't suspicious at first too. But, seriously, even just between going there twice and hanging out with Boomer... and my friends—" she added as Blossom's glare deepened. "—I think it's really unlikely that they're still, yunno, evil. I don't know I just... he's so different, from what he used to be—"

"What if it's a trick!"

"And their mom's so sweet!"

"Yeah?" Bunny asked in the same tone. Bubbles nodded at her, taking a moment to look into her eyes and smile.

"Yeah, she was really nice to me and—come on don't you think I would know an evil person when I see one?" Bubbles said, appealing to Blossom.

Her sister frowned, unconvinced. "I'm finding it very difficult to gauge your discernment skills right now."

Bunny seemed to come to. She picked a fork of her lasagna and sighed.

"Seriously Blossom... even dad vouched for Ms Venus' integrity. I doubt she's secretly a nefarious mastermind training four killing machines. Hell, even Butch seems to be just like any other boisterous, teenage jock. Putting the fact that he's a lascivious pig aside... actually no, that too."

Blossom gaped disbelievingly at her sisters, swiveling between them as they returned her look with pointed, innocent stares.

"You guys... mph!" She huffed angrily, gathering her purse as she stood from the kitchen table. "You girls are unbelievable!"

They watched as she stalked out of the kitchen, then they turned back to each other, Bubbles snickering as Bunny mouthed "Drama Queen".

"Bunny, get Buttercup to wake up. It's almost eleven. Bubbles, we're running late. Let's go." They heard Blossom say from the living room, the ire in her voice barely discernible now.

Bubbles gasped. "I actually almost forgot. I smudged my make-up!" She griped, patting her lip with a napkin as she zipped out the kitchen and up the stairs.

"It's Ms Bellum! What are you putting on make-up for!" And the ire was back.

Bunny shook her head with a chuckle as she bit the pasta off her fork.

"The girls have arrived Madam," Patrick informed Ms Bellum.

"Excellent, let them in." She replied as her PA shuffled out of her office. He shuffled back in a few minutes later, Blossom and Bubbles in tow.

"Morning Ms Bellum." Blossom greeted affably as she and Bubbles filed in, the latter offering a greeting of her own.

"Morning girls, I'm honestly a little surprised you're on time." Ms Bellum smiled at them as Patrick exited the room.

"Well, you have one of us to thank for that," Blossom said, sending an admonishing look Bubbles' way.

"Excuse me for wanting look presentable in-front of the Mayor." Bubbles retorted, ignoring her sisters' gaze as she took one of the seats in-front of Ms Bellum's desk. Blossom sighed and slotted herself in the other one as Ms Bellum chuckled fondly at their antics.

"So, Ms Bellum, you mentioned that you wanted to discuss an event you have planned?" Blossom got them started.

"Ah, yes," She confirmed, hitting a button on her pager. "Would you girls like anything to drink?"

Blossom shook her head.

"I wouldn't mind some coffee." Bubbles chirped.

"Bring me two coffees please. Extra sugar in one?" Ms Bellum asked, raising a brow at Bubbles who nodded vigorously. Blossom rolled her eyes. "Now girls, I don't want to cut in too deeply on your Saturday, so I'll try and make this as brief as possible. You girls know how one of my initiatives as Mayor is to refine Townsville's reputation—on the business end that is. While our precious city is certainly exclusively popular for one thing—" she paused, smiling at the girls.

Both of them returned her gesture as humbly as they could just as Patrick burst in bearing the coffees.

"—it has the potential to be far more commercially prominent. And by extension, generate far more revenue that can be circulated into the city."

"That would greatly aid the inner city residents," Blossom textured in assent.

"That's right, it would help our enterprise to amend the unemployment rate, among other issues." Ms Bellum finished, sipping her coffee.

"So is this event an instrument in the constitution of this initiative?" Blossom inquired.

"Precisely Blossom," Ms Bellum replied with a smirk, always impressed by Blossom's astuteness.

"So it's a charity event then?" Bubbles interjected, pulling her lips from her cup.

The two redheaded ladies turned to Bubbles in unison. Surprised that she'd actually spoken, and even more so that she apparently grasped the semantics of their discussion.

"Well. Yes," Ms Bellum confirmed, "I'd shared this idea with Mayor Collins, but he was primarily concerned with some of the city's other issues. The city's Monster Defense System for example."

"Certainly can't fault him there." Blossom smiled.

"Definitely, his success in certain areas has given me license to launch other initiatives, such as this one."

"So, how do Blossom and I fit into your plans Ms Bellum?" Bubbles asked, giving her now empty cup a protracted stare. "Can I have another one?"

"Can you exercise some self control?" Blossom reprimanded.

"It's fine." Ms Bellum looked amused as she paged Patrick again. "To answer your question Bubbles, as you rightly guessed, the event is going to be a fundraiser. I have plenty of different events planned in theory, but firstly, I wanted to organize an an art event where Townsville's special heroines provide a bit of entertainment." Ms Bellum answered with a grin.

"Us?" The two Puffs echoed.

"Yes, you," Sara smiled. "Being aware of you girls' artistic traits I thought this the perfect opportunity. With Mr Morbucks' assistance—"

"Mr Morbucks is back in town?" Blossom cut in. She tended to stay updated on city news, which naturally covered the activities of its most prominent millionaire. And last she'd read, he was in France.

"Yes, he returned a few days ago. He is providing significant aid with the organizing of this event. As a matter of fact, it's going to take place in the Morbucks' manor, with some very prestigious guests expected to be in attendance." she answered as Patrick brought Bubbles her second cup.

Blossom pursed her lips. Well, anyone who knew Jean Morbucks knew he was big on Philanthropy.

"Blossom, I thought perhaps you could perform a live painting. I can imagine you'd want to utilize an opportunity like that to convey a message with your art." Ms Bellum said, and she didn't need to ask Blossom if she was right. The look on the girl's face gave her all the answer she needed.

Despite the charitable of nature of this planned event, Blossom imagined it was still going to be propagated. Journalists were incontestably persistent when they wanted to be. Like Ms Bellum said, she could really use the opportunity to paint something communicative, which was always her primary desire with her art.

"And Bubbles, dancing is just such a crowd pleaser for events of this nature. I know you don't get to express yourself as often as you'd like with it, so I thought you could perform a dance? With a partner of-course, considering again, the nature of this event." by the time Ms Bellum was done, Bubbles was already beaming.

"Wow! Really? You would let me?"

Ms Bellum laughed. "Of-course, I wouldn't if I didn't trust your ability. The Inter-School Dance contest a few months ago only reinstated what I already knew."

Now Bubbles really beamed, really, Blossom would have to resort to squinting to look at her if she didn't stop beaming.

"That's amazing! Oh my God! Yes! Of-course!" Bubbles accepted with ill-reserved glee.

"It sounds like a very good opportunity for expression, and it'd be raising money for the people. I don't see any reason to." Blossom smiled.

Ms Bellum grinned triumphantly at both girls. "Excellent."

Butch had been acting strange for the past three days or so, Bear thought as they walked to their next class together, post-lunch.

His regularly jaunty and raucous disposition had melted into something more... torpid. He barely left his room over the weekend, and he'd been acting weird at school. Even Bunny had mentioned it to Bear during lunch yesterday. "Is he good?" she'd asked when Butch made no advances on her and proceeded to eat his lunch in silence as the rest of them chattered, his eyes not looking at much besides the table.

Almost stranger than that even, was the lack of friction between him and Buttercup. Butch seemingly enjoyed peeving her, he'd proven so ever since they started school here, but recently it was almost like he was avoiding her. He'd sat in-front of Bear in Government, as opposed to right behind Buttercup last week. Even taking a seat beside Kim in lunch seemed an effort to sit furthest away from Buttercup.

Bear knew something was up. He studied his brother's face, blank and distant as they turned a hallway, he nudged him.

"Dude, what's up?" he asked.

Butch snapped to. Turning and blinking at Bear whose expression held a bit of worry in it.

"What's with that face? I'm good man." Butch laughed. Weakly, Bear thought, it sounded forced.

"You've been acting 'hella weird recently. You good?" Bear pressed, ignoring Butch's attempt at deflecting.

Butch snorted dismissively. "Maybe school brings out the worst in me, what a fucking surprise."

Bear only stared at Butch as he refused to meet his eyes. He was completely bullshitting, Bear knew that much, but he also knew how reticent Butch could be about things that bothered him. They reached the class, Butch quickly opened the door and Bear followed him in, peering into his back.

He decided to drop it, for now.

"Ever heard of this thing called blinking?" Brick said, turning a jaded gaze to Blossom's glare. "It's a basic bodily function you seem to be lacking. You might want to get that checked."

"I know Ms Wilson to be a virtuous woman, else I would safely bet that you bought your way into this class." She said, glare never faltering.

"That's hilarious that you think had I the money to perpetrate that, I'd have willingly placed myself anywhere within ten miles of this school. Knowing the detriments." he retorted, matching her glare.

"You may have everyone else fooled, but I'm not so credulous. The second I find an inconsistency in your 'sudden' arrival here, expect I'll be onto it." Blossom warned.

Brick rolled his eyes.

"Give it a rest Sherlock. I have more important things to focus on than juvenile delinquency in this dump of a city."

"What important things?" Blossom quickly inquired, arching a suspicious brow.

"Eh, stick that one on the mystery board why don't you? He said he's focused on important things, that must be a clue. Better stock up on your red wool, you must be getting close." Brick retorted, his tone laden with sarcasm.

Blossom bristled. "You're a supercilious jerk."

"You're a captious little bi—"

"Don't you dare curse at me."

And then they just glared, eyes sharp enough to prick diamond.

Brick turned away first, giving an indignant scoff as he swept his brush along his canvas. After an irritated huff, Blossom returned her focus to her canvas as well.

Thankfully, they spared each other of any further communication for the remainder of the class, and the bell couldn't have come sooner for Brick. He had gathered his things and was out of the doors in a flash. Blossom took her time, allowing her irritation nestle with her.

Stupid. Was what Brick was. He was a stupid jerk, with a stupid attitude, who wore a stupid cap, over his stupid head! She couldn't believe she would have to share a class with him for another two years. Of all classes too, Ms Wilson was—while posing a friendly exterior—incredibly difficult to please. Blossom couldn't imagine the amount of people that had tried to transition into Art IV, yet Ms Wilson had granted only two additions to the class this semester, and one of them was Brick. It just didn't make any sense, she told herself as her mind flashed back to that vile, doltish five year old boy from all those years ago, who only expressed himself in the form of mayhem.

A thought suddenly manifested in her head and refused to be swept aside.

She was the last one left in the class, and she looked up, then immediately made her way over to her teacher's desk, said teacher was looking ready to leave the class as well.

"Blossom? What's the matter?"

"Nothing Ms Wilson," Blossom shook her head dismissively, "I just, um, I was wondering if I could have your permission to take a look at the portfolios of the new students?"

Ms Wilson furrowed her brows. "What would you want to do that for?"

"I'm trying to stay ahead of the joint mid-term project. I would like to be paired with someone with similar, um, ability, at the very least" she said, configuring what she hoped was an efficient reason.

Ms Wilson pursed her lips and—fortunately for Blossom—nodded in understanding, "I see. I imagine you've got your hands full with your Advanced Placement courses. You don't need anyone you'll have to carry through the project," she said, standing.

"Alright, this is entirely prohibited under regular circumstances, but I suppose I can bend a few rules for my best student," Ms Wilson smiled at Blossom who chuckled bashfully as she pulled a file from her drawer and handed it to Blossom. "Have them back here tomorrow, okay?"

"I will. Thank you Ms Wilson." Blossom smiled.

Blossom went straight to the City Library after school, she thought she'd study some in preparation for the tests she was inevitably going to be facing in a few weeks.

She greeted Sandra—the librarian for as long as she could remember—as she signed in. She took a seat at the back, deep into the maze of the lofty book shelves, nobody ever came to this section of the library, she'd practically colonized this seat since she was around fourteen. This was the only other place besides her room that gave her a feeling of tranquility, though ultimately, it definitely couldn't be compared, for obvious reasons.

With the serene atmosphere, she was able to get absorbed into her books. After bulldozing through the first three chapters of her textbook, she decided to check the time. She reached over the textbook and clicked the power button on her phone, the screen illumined and she read the time.

Five-forty.

She'd already been here for over two hours? She placed a hand over her mouth as she released a semi-automatic yawn, she sniffled and gave the opened pages of Physics calculations a protracted gaze, before flipping the textbook closed. She gathered her books at the edge of the table, her eyes settling on the file that laid at the bottom of the pile. Well, she had to return them tomorrow anyway, so she might as well use up the twenty or so minutes she had left in the library.

She drew the bulky file near and opened it, she read the name on the first file and switched it with the one under, coming face to face with the 'Student Portfolio' title box. Under it, inscribed in white, was the name; Brick Venus.

She flipped it open, skimming through most of its content, only allotting a little over two seconds to the work samples for the subjects that didn't concern her. She allowed a few more seconds to some of the photos though, a few of them were very well taken—she noted. She lingered on one in particular, it was a group photo, there were two girls in it, bedecked in lab coats—a science class, Chemistry from the looks of it—and protective goggles, smiling beatifically at the camera. Behind them, a stoic Brick—equally in a lab coat, his goggles pulled down to his neck—frowned. He looked... different without his cap, she thought.

She flipped past a few more samples and his self-reflection composition before landing on Art. She'd had on a doubtful expression as she perused the portfolio, almost analytical, but upon viewing the photos in this section, her face began to soften.

There were mostly pictures of drawings. His drawings. It was mostly landscape and life drawings, with a few variations. They were—they were amazing. The detail on some of them was ridiculous, the blending technique applied, the foreshortening for the landscapes, it was...

She paused on a drawing, squinting at it. It was a life drawing of a figure, a girl, specifically. Simply put, it was beautiful, which Blossom—begrudgingly—expected at this point, but that wasn't what arrested her attention. She thought the girl looked kind of familiar. Wasn't she just—

It clicked, and she flipped back to the science section, back to the photo, keeping a finger on the page she was currently on. She looked at the raven haired girl on the left, captured her smiling face in her mind and flipped back to the drawing. Her eyes widened marginally.

She flipped back and forth two more times before settling on the drawing. It was her. Blossom stared for a bit, simply blinking at the image, expertly drawn. From her affable beam to the wave of her hair as it fell down her shoulders. She lingered on it, then flipped the page.

But she really didn't need to see much more, the rest of the pages were a few of his written goals for the course, some certificates for some school awards he'd won and some other photos. One where he was molding a clay sculpture in a pottery class, another where he stood beside a painting, looking right at it, his hair curtaining his face. She didn't even know which was better, the drawings or the pictures.

She opened one last page to a single quote—written in what was probably his own handwriting—that said; Art is the bedrock of creation. You become a god the moment you hold a pencil. Anything less, then you are not an artist.

Blossom stared, and stared, and stared. Unable to...

She slowly closed the portfolio, the sound of the pages slapping together practically reverberated in the silence. Or maybe just in her head. She stared at the file in her hand, not knowing what to make of it, not even knowing where to start.

A soft shuffling caught her attention and she looked up to see Sandra approaching with a mellow smile. "Come on Blossom, I'm closing up."

"Right, sorry." She apologized, Sandra cordially waved it off and just told her to gather her things. Blossom smiled as she left to inspect the shelves, she turned back to the file, eyes riveting on the name, the name that should have belonged to somebody else, considering the content of that file.

Brick sat up on his bed, inspecting his DSLR as he flipped through some older pictures he'd taken. The quality of the lot of them had deteriorated post-editing, but that was natural. He'd have to switch the setting so his images could save in the raw CR2 file, he didn't want anything to go wrong at Mr Morbuck's event, even though it was over a month away.

Jean Morbucks. He kept trying to recall where he'd heard that name from, he was sure Wednesday hadn't been the first, but he supposed that was inconsequential. His mind was flurried by the opportunity the man had offered him. Apparently, Mr Morbucks had a charity event planned, and he wanted Brick to work as a Photographer on the day it would take place.

He'd been instantly suspicious. Why would the wealthiest man in Townsville, and apparently one of the most influential business men in North America—Brick had done his research—want a seventeen year old to cover an event that was supposedly going to be brimming with illustrious individuals? Given, he was head and shoulders above the average seventeen year old in several aspects, and that most likely extended to his photographic prowess, but still.

Then, just when Brick had considered refusing the offer, Mr Morbucks offered an incentive. He didn't much care for money, his family was pretty good off, but Mr Morbucks had offered something, much, much better.

"I imagine someone of your interests should be familiar with Oliver Karlsson?" Mr Morbucks had said, his voice smug, knowing he'd sealed the agreement before Brick even responded.

Infinity Weekly was one of the most popular magazines in the Media World. And Oliver Karlsson, one of the most prominent Photographers on the planet, was its Editor-In-Chief. Brick had almost thought Mr Morbucks was bluffing, but he knew better than that, a man of his stature could get someone like Oliver Karlsson to attend an event of his easily.

If Brick could get that man's seal of approval, or better yet, a job offer he could manage alongside schooling, that would open doors to a plethora of opportunities and potentially provide him vast connectivity even before he graduated.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up, he'd have been stupid not to take it, so he did. Though, it still tickled his curiosity on why Mr Morbucks permitted, and personally requested his presence at the event.

"I can't express my thanks enough sir. But, if you don't mind me asking. I'm curious as to why you're requesting for me specifically, not that I don't appreciate the confidence of-course, but, regardless..." he'd said.

"I'm very informed Brick. I know talent when I see it." Mr Morbucks had answered cryptically, and with that he bid Brick a farewell.

Well, he certainly wasn't getting any clarification from him, he didn't much expect to anyway.

He refocused on his camera, continuing to skim through the photos. He grabbed a chord from his nightstand drawer and plugged it in the camera. He floated over to his desk and connected the other end to his laptop.

He might as well reset and get some editing done now.

The end of the week saw Bubbles and Boomer have their last practice session. They'd eventually settled on Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful" and spent all their practice time contemplating different ways to perform it, once that was decided and rehearsed to their satisfaction, it was a matter of seeing how they sounded with instrumentals.

They sounded as good as they could with background instrumentals from Boomer's speaker, but Bubbles insisted that they needed an actual acoustic to gauge their cadence. It turned out the Heavens had opened up and were answering wishes with benevolence, seeing as the door to the garage pushed open the instant Bubbles had uttered her suggestion.

The blondes at the kitchen table turned to the door frame, staring until Bear shuffled through it. Boomer brightened significantly.

"Bear!"

"Boomer!" Bear intoned with a dull expression as he opened the fridge.

"Can you help Bubbles and I rehearse?" Boomer asked with a beam.

"What? How?" Bubbles furrowed her brows.

"The piano," Boomer answered with a Duh face.

"You're kidding," Bubbles turned to Bear, who was idly gulping water. "You can play the piano too?"

"Who, this guy? You're talkin' about Jonny Greenwood here." Boomer laughed, thumbing in Bear's direction.

Bear binned the bottle, barely batting an eye at Boomer's comment. "You guys want to know how you'll sound supported with piano?" He asked, tossing his head at Bubbles.

Bubbles recovered. "Yeah, raw acoustics make for better judgement. Plus, that's how it's going to be in class anyway."

Bear hummed.

"So you'll help?" Boomer's gaze was hopeful.

Bear still had his guitar slung over his back, as he'd come straight from practice. His eyes flicked between the two pouting blondes, noting how dangerous of a combo they were when they unified their pitiable visages. He let out a heavy exhale.

"Five minutes." He said, already walking back into the living room. Boomer and Bubbles turned to each other, then shot up after him.

"What are you guys performing?" Bear asked as he sat in-front of the Grand Piano. His guitar slung over Boomer's back.

"Oh yeah, um, Beautiful. Cristina Aguilera" Bubbles answered, she was so curious to hear him play that she'd momentarily forgotten he was only doing so for them.

"I've got the tune in my head." Bear nodded, closing his eyes as the melody came rushing in, permeating his mind.

"You know, there's something about this that feels so right..." Boomer said, looking at his reflection in the mirror near the bar. He'd slided the guitar over to his front and was pretending to play it. Bubbles shushed him.

Bear's eyes stayed shut for a little longer. Bubbles and Boomer waited patiently.

Then, he took an audibly deep inhale, and slowly tapped in the keys.

"Where'd he learn how to play instruments?" Bubbles asked from her cross legged position on the sofa, taking a bite of the apple Boomer had given her. They'd just finished rehearsing, and after running through the song once, her and Boomer had managed to squeeze three more minutes out of Bear so they could run through it once more, making sure to record themselves this time. Upon listening to it, Bubbles was equal parts glad and relieved. She definitely thought they sounded good, and Boomer agreed. They were set for Monday now.

She'd wanted to all but interrogate Bear about his instrumental prowess, and just how far it extended. He perfectly raised the cadence of the song after thinking about it for what, forty seconds? Bubbles was a person that was appreciative of all things beautiful, like nature, and rainbows, and puppies, and ice-cream. And music was definitely in the ranks of one of the most beautiful things about life. She was curious to know how Bear made it so easily. But, once he was done with them he literally just took his guitar and zipped upstairs, bidding them good luck on their performance.

"Have I told you I always feel like you're judging me?" Boomer said from beside her, his eyes on the fruit in her hand before they shifted to the ham sandwich in his.

"Answer the question," Bubbles shook her head with a laugh.

Boomer snickered as he slumped in the cushion. "What, Bear? He's just always been good at that. Even when we—you know, when we met him. He always said music was pacifying for him."

"So he's been playing since then?" Bubbles said, the swift blemish in his demeanor as he mentioned meeting Bear not going unnoticed by her.

"Before then even," Boomer answered, taking a bite, "Fucker could already play the drums, keyboard and the flute when we were freakin' twelve."

"Damn," Bubbles breathed out. "Mhm." Boomer hummed through a full mouth.

She watched him chew, her mind now stuck on the question that was fluttering in her head. But wasn't that a bit personal? Could they ask personal questions now? Wasn't such intimate talk only had by friends? But they were friends essentially. Weren't they? She'd invited him to her birthday after all—

"What?" Boomer's question snapped her out of her musing. He was looking right at her with a questioning brow raised, probably because she'd been looking right at him. He waited, and Bubbles decided to give in.

"What—what was it like? You know, getting adopted and everything?" She asked.

To her surprise, Boomer actually smiled. His eyes roamed away from her as he seemed to go into thought.

"I mean, honestly? It was great."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I never really liked the whole... villain thing. I don't know, it just... I just never liked it. After you guys beat us and we were, you know, jailed and whatever. I thought that was it for us—" he paused to let out a bitter laugh.

"—man, I hated that shit." he finished, and Bubbles sobered. She didn't even know what to think right now. She would have never imagined that all those times that he'd attacked her and her sisters, or meandered around destroying public property, that he actually didn't want to do so.

Actually, if she thought about it, it did make sense to an extent. There were times where Boomer had done some things that really confused her back then, things a villain wouldn't do. Plus, he had been with Him, she couldn't even begin to think about what it must have been like working for the Devil Himself...

"Anyway," he continued before she had a chance to really feel bad for him. "I remember after a couple days in a cell the cops took us to some kind of child care facility. Brick said something about us being too young to get thrown in jail jail," he looked at his sandwich, suddenly losing his appetite. He dropped it in Bubbles' bowl of apples. She didn't take her eyes off him as he continued. "So we were there for like a week, being supervised and all that. Then one day my mom and Bear just showed up, said they—well mom obviously—wanted to adopt us."

"You must have been really surprised," Bubbles ventured.

Boomer's laugh was more genuine this time. "Surprised doesn't even remotely cut it. I mean, we didn't even believe her at first. Like, why would anybody want to adopt the Rowdyruff Boys, you know? But then... she told us she was technically already living with one."

"And that's how you guys found out about Bear?"

He nodded a confirmation. "It was such a trip, when he proved he had powers like us. Like, we didn't even know he existed."

"So, um, your mom told you that, you know—" Bubbles stuttered, trying to pick her words carefully.

"That she was the one who created him?" He finished for her. She nodded slowly.

"Yeah," Boomer answered simply, assuming a thoughtful expression, "Didn't your dad tell you guys about Bunny?"

"He did, he did. I was just asking," Bubbles said, dropping the bowl on the glass stool beside her.

"Oh, okay. So... that's it really."

"It must have been so different, growing up with your mom I mean. As opposed to being a... criminal and whatever."

This time the smile that spread across his lips resembled the ones she'd become accustomed to. "It was fucking amazing, for me definitely. I think leaving here helped too, over in Canada nobody really knew who we were. Mom always told us we could be whoever we wanted there, no judgements. She always supported us, made me comfortable being who I want to be. And Bear, well Bear's just awesome," he paused for a genuine laugh. "Eventually we became, you know, a family."

"That's amazing Boomer." Bubbles smiled, meaning it. She could see it on his face, she could tell how genuinely happy he was to have the life he had now. "So that's how you got into drama, and singing?"

"Yeah," he laughed, shifting up on the sofa and throwing his arm over it.

"You're really good, like seriously. I don't know much about Theater, but I think your audition's the best I've seen in school definitely." Bubbles touted.

"Meh. Helps that I was acting for most of my life anyway," he shrugged.

Bubbles' smile faltered, Boomer simply laughed again. "Too soon?"

Bubbles shook her head in admonishment, but her grin had returned. "You play too much."

"Can't argue with that." He replied with a grin. He watched as Bubbles snickered, pursing his lips in thought. "Technically, you owe me a personal story now."

"Do I?" Bubbles smirked.

"Yup. We'll sign the life binding Friendship Contract after you're done to make it official." He replied with a straight face.

Bubbles obliged him with a small laugh, but her lips slowly melted into a frown as she stared at him. She reached for the bowl again and picked her unfinished apple from it, holding it out to Boomer to take his equally unfinished sandwich.

"Next time. I promise."

"Aren't you coming?" Bunny asked her laying sister as she stepped out of their walk-in closet with her skateboard in hand.

Buttercup looked up from her magazine. "Is it Two already?"

"Past," Bunny answered, swiping her phone from her bed. They were supposed to be linking up with Mitch and Harry at the skate park right about now. "Harry just texted even. He's already there."

On cue, Buttercup's phone chimed beside her head. "And that's probably Mitch," Bunny said, pocketing her phone. She made her way over to Buttercup's bed and loosely pulled at her legs. "Let's gooo."

"Cut it out," Buttercup clamored, lightly kicking in return.

"Seriously, come on," Bunny laughed, clutching her board at her side.

"I think this bed has absorbed my skin," Buttercup groaned, then she suddenly snapped to. "Are we meeting just Mitch and Harry?"

"I mean, I guess so," Bunny shrugged. "Pablo's got a family thing and I think Kim's sick."

"What about Bear and the rottweiler?" Buttercup asked flatly.

Bunny snorted and shook her head. "Bear said he was busy, guess Butch is too. You coming or not?"

"I'll catch up," Buttercup answered with a dismissive wave.

"'Kay. Hurry up, owning them on the ramp's gonna get boring if it's just me." Bunny said before zipping down the stairs.

Buttercup heard the front door close and dropped her magazine on the nightstand that separated her and Bunny's beds. She proceeded to stare at the ceiling yonderly, allowing herself melt into the weird, almost ghostly silence of the house. She knew her dad was taking a nap in his room, Blossom was in her room probably getting some homework done—Buttercup cringed at the mere thought of it—and Bubbles mentioned something about 'site shopping' with Robin for their birthday.

She shifted slightly, eyes riveted to the ceiling light. She hated how her mind just needed two or three idle seconds to self-brim itself with thoughts of Butch, this time with renewed abhorrence.

He forgot. He'd actually fucking forgotten that he'd done it. If he was a bastard for doing it in the first place, what did completely forgetting it make him? From the way he spoke, it seemed like he had probably just filed it away as one of his many 'pranks', nothing worth noting.

She was squeezing her sheets in her hands now, her catatonic gaze had gone furious, searing into nothingness. She heard a light sizzle and she hurriedly sat up, blinking furiously as the faint glow of her eyes subsided. Her hands shook with rage as she took a deep breath. Then took another one.

She released her sheets and opened her eyes, taking time to halfheartedly scan the room. Staying here wouldn't do her any good, she shuffled to the closet and retrieved her own skateboard.

She pocketed her phone as she closed the front door, quickly squatting to tie her sneaker laces before hopping on the board and rolling down the sidewalk. A few people greeted her as she moved past them, she managed to put up a dinky smile as she returned their greetings. After a few more minutes of skating, she decided to walk instead, her board in one hand and her phone in the other. She could have flown but...

She exited the app she was on and opened her contacts. She scrolled down the list and instantly tapped on the one saved; Wes. He picked up after the second ring.

["Two calls in one week? Is a bitch missing me that badly?"]

["You wish, Fuckface,"] Buttercup retorted, allowing herself a smirk. ["How are ya?"]

Wes laughed on the other end, ["I'm good, 'bout to help my uncle out with the grill. How're you doing?"]

["I'm doing,"] she physically shrugged. ["On my way to the Skate Park, gonna shred some with the gang."]

["You mean show up the gang some,"]

["Same difference."] She said cockily. Wes snorted.

["What? Okay, yeah—"] he said, speaking to someone off the phone, ["—sorry my uncle's getting on my ass. Did you wanna talk about something?"]

["Nah, I just... I talked to Butch about it,"] she decided to be blunt.

["Oh..."] Wes paused, it sounded like he was ambling into another room. ["How'd—how'd it go?"]

["He forgot he did it."] She scowled.

She could almost feel Wes' eyes widen, ["What? No. No fucking way. Are you serious? He forgot?"]

["Yeah, completely. Even wondered why I've been treating him like trash since he got here,"]

["'Cause he is!"] Wes' voice was suddenly laced with fury. ["What a piece of shit! I don't fucking believe this!"]

Buttercup was wondering why she'd actually called him up until this point, but now she knew. To hear him nearly scream in anger, to remind herself that there was someone who understood how she was feeling about this situation, the only person besides her who could. It filled her with an odd, twisted sense of refreshment.

["God. I don't—I don't even know what to say. How does a person forget something like that?"]

["It was probably just a joke to him. 'Payback' he said,"] Buttercup bristled, trying her best not to squash her phone in her hand.

["Asshole! Jesus fucking Christ!"] Buttercup listened to Wes as he cursed out, almost as though doing it in her place. She simmered down, feeling her anger slowly dissipate.

["Man... what are... what are you gonna do?"]

Buttercup inhaled heavily, looking skywards. ["Well, I think I jogged his memory, but I don't know what that's going to do, if anything,"] her eyes hardened. ["Neither do I give a fuck if it does. But he lives in my city now, goes to my school, so... I guess that's that."]

["I'm so sorry you gotta deal with that BC."] Wes said somberly, and she knew he meant it.

["It's cool, I just wanted to tell you, you know,"] she said, hearing a distant yell from somewhere in the background. Wes groaned.

["Sorry, gotta go help my uncle,"]

["It's all good, tell him 'Hey' for me."]

["You got it. Hey... take care of yourself, okay?"]

["Always."] And with that, she ended the call.

She inhaled again, her chest feeling much lighter. Her phone suddenly buzzed and she brought it up to her face—Bunny had sent a picture. She opened it and chortled at the sight; Bunny was the one who'd taken it, a selfie from the top of a lofty ramp with her mid-laugh, while Mitch was wrecked face down in the background—the bottom of the ramp—with his skateboard off to the side.

[Bitch hurry up! You're missing all the fun XD] read the text under it. Buttercup grinned as she pocketed her phone and took to the skies, zooming towards the Skate Park.

"Get down here shitbags!" Brick yelled as he switched off the fire under the saucepan. He was just about done folding the macaroni into cheese sauce when his brothers strode into the kitchen, sans Butch.

"Did you top it with some bread crumbs?" Boomer pouted hopefully.

"You get too dainty about my cooking and you're gonna be eating cereal for the next week. Now go sit down." Brick narrowed his eyes at him, but Boomer grinned upon seeing crumbs spread across the pan anyway then obediently took a seat at the dining table.

"Is mom awake?" Bear asked from beside Boomer and Brick shook his head "No" as he retrieved plates from a cabinet.

They heard Butch shuffling down the stairs as Brick rationed the food into the plates, but he never emerged into the kitchen.

"Dude," Brick called out to him just before he went past the door frame. Butch faced him, blinking. "Dinner." Brick finished.

"Not hungry," Butch immediately replied, his brothers watching as he strode past, "I'm going out for a bit. I'll grab something later."

The rest of the boys faced each other as the door slammed. "Is it me, or has he been acting like that all week?" Boomer ventured.

"He hasn't eaten anything besides a fucking s'more since breakfast." Brick added, squinting at the empty door frame in suspicion.

Bear only stared, brows furrowed in worry.

Bear retreated to his room once he was done with dinner. Now he plucked softly at his acoustic, sitting cross legged on his bed, a cigarette between his lips.

His phone suddenly buzzed and he ceased playing, willing it to float up to his face. He'd gotten a text from Bunny. He willed his guitar back onto its hook on the wall and picked the phone out of the air. He was just about to open the text when his door creaked open.

He looked up to find Butch, his head poked in. "Dude, are you—you busy?"

"Naw," Bear immediately shook his head, dropping his phone to the side. Butch slipped in fully, closing the door behind him. "What's up?" Bear asked as Butch plopped down on the small cushion chair beside his bed, stretching his legs out.

Butch didn't respond at first, neither did he even look at Bear. He drew out a joint from his pocket and lit it, taking a long hit. Bear simply waited, slowly raising his cig to take a drag of it himself.

Butch exhaled the smoke, then just exhaled, his lips pulled into a tight line as his eyes settled up on Bear's open window. "I... I did something man."

Bear calmly blew out smoke, never taking his eyes off his brother. "What do you mean?" He asked heedfully.

"I mean I did something... fucked up. Like, royally fucked up." Butch answered. Bear blinked at the ambiguity of his statement, he knew he would have to ask the right questions to get Butch to talk—despite him being the one who came to his room.

"That's why you've been out of it this past week?" Bear inquired, taking Butch's silence as he took another hit as confirmation. "Whatever you did, why is it bothering you so much?... when did you do it?"

"Like, eight years ago," Butch immediately replied and Bear was momentarily stumped. Eight years ago? He thought incredulously. He knit his brows in confusion, but the expression on Butch's face hadn't twitched, he was being completely serious.

Butch was easily one of the most callous people Bear knew, it surprised him at all that he'd been acting strange because of an act he'd done, talk less an act he'd done before he was even ten years old?

"For real?" He asked to be certain, Butch only nodded, still looking away from him. "Dude, why would—why is it still bothering you?"

Butch laughed, an acrid, sardonic little laugh, "Shocking ain't it?" He said, pausing as he let the silence sit for a while. He could see Bear silently staring at him in his side-eye.

"You know what's even more fucked up than the fact that I did it? The fact that I fucking forgot it ever happened." He frowned, shifting his eyes from the window to the cased records that hung from the ceiling aesthetically. Another brief period of silence followed before Bear placidly said...

"Who was it?" And for the first time since he opened the door, Butch looked right at him. "The person you did this thing to. Who was it?"

Bear wasn't sure why he'd suddenly assumed that there was, in-fact, a victim in Butch's story. Just from the tone of his voice, especially with his last statement, it sounded like he was... there was just something about the way he was talking, and Bear tended to trust his intuition.

Butch stared at him, visibly contemplating, and for the briefest moment Bear noticed his jaw tightening.

"Buttercup." Butch blurted.

Bear's eyes widened, and the cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth as he marginally gaped. He plucked it from his lips and dumped it in the ashtray in-front of him. His eyes on Butch's all the while.

"Buttercup?" He asked. Butch only blinked in response. "Yo..." Bear breathed out. He didn't even know what this "thing" was, but between Butch's recently anomalous attitude and Buttercup's—well, simply her very person, he couldn't imagine just how horrible it was.

Something suddenly clicked. "Is that what you guys were talking about the night of the Battle of the Bands?"

Butch managed a nod this time.

This was eating him up, Bear had never seen him like this, ever. Now he wanted to help, he needed to know the details here. He was about to request for just that before Butch spoke up.

"I can't give you any details," he said firmly, almost like he'd read Bear's mind.

Bear suddenly looked confused. "Why?"

Butch gnashed his teeth, conflicted. He looked at Bear's beseeching expression, wanting to tell him, really wanting to talk to someone about this. But...

"I just can't. I don't—it's really fucked up. Really, really fucked up." He answered, looking down at the floor, his head brimmed with the memory. He really did it as a joke, for a fucking laugh. Sometimes he forgot he'd really been that messed up.

He heard Bear sigh heavily, probably frustrated. Butch couldn't blame him, after all, he was the one who came here by his own volition. But he'd been so painstakingly vague, barely giving Bear any insight to why this was fucking gnawing him, if at all. But he just needed to get it out, to say something out loud, he didn't know what to do with this feeling, he wasn't used to feeling guilty, actually knowing he'd fucked up without quite understanding the magnitude of his action.

He sighed, this was stupid. He'd really just bothered Bear for nothing. He was about to excuse himself right when—

"You should talk to mom."

He looked up to see Bear looking right at him, eyes hard. "What?" He said.

"Talk to mom," Bear repeated, his tone grave.

Butch arched a muddled brow.

"I'm going on a whim here, but I'm assuming she would understand your... situation better. More than berating yourself for being a piece of shit, it sounds like you're berating yourself for being a piece of shit to Buttercup. And you clearly need to talk to someone about it."

Butch blinked. Surprised at the accuracy of his brother's conclusion. Butch didn't know how he was always able to do that, how he was always able to read into things.

"Why mom?" He inquired.

Bear assumed a thoughtful expression, his eyes flicking away from Butch momentarily. "We—you know, guys—generally tend to misunderstand why a lot of the things we do hurt women. As a guy needing insight to that, you've hit the jackpot with an independent single mother,"

Butch's rapt attention was on Bear, the nearly burnt out joint snuffing in his hand.

"Whatever you did to Buttercup, she'll help you out with it. She'll probably help you understand what you did, and what you have to do to fix it."

Another bout of silence consumed them as they stared at each other. Eventually, Butch reached and dumped his filter in the ashtray, sinking into the chair as he recoiled.

"Yeah," he said, running his hand through his hair and exhaling, "Yeah."

He lingered for a while, then sprung to his feet, stalking over to the door hastily. He paused in the doorway, turning enough to face Bear who was still looking at him.

"Um... thanks, bro."

Bear nodded, and watched Butch shut the door.

"What did you say it was called again?" Blossom asked.

"Berserkverse!" Bubbles beamed as Buttercup relieved her of her empty plate, walking to the sink.

"I've never heard of it," John said, patting his lips with a napkin.

"It's a new arcade in town, they've only been open for like, a month," Bubbles relayed voraciously. She'd been actively scouring for potential spots for the girls to celebrate for about a week, and with Robin's help, she'd finally found one yesterday. "Robin and I made inquiries and everything, it's scanty enough on Thursdays and they've got so many games. It's perfect!"

"Sounds like it was named by a drunk five year old," Buttercup said flatly, placing a plate in the dish rack.

"I could do with some bowling, been a while." Bunny said, smiling in approval.

"I was hoping to get some studying in ahead of a test on Monday—"

"I don't want to hear it." Bubbles reprimanded, pointing at Blossom with a stern frown. The pout Blossom returned her made the exchange look comically inverted. "So, what do you think dad?" Bubbles beamed at him.

"As long as you girls are back home before curfew it's fine with me." John said, grinning at her enthusiasm.

"Settled then! Time to send out invites." Bubbles exclaimed, whipping out her phone as she began to text in mass. She stood without taking her eyes off the screen, Blossom groaning in defeat.

"You're inviting Boomer yeah?" Bunny asked.

Bubbles paused near the door about the same time John paused, the glass of water in his hand mere inches from his lips. Blossom shifted her eyes from her frozen family members to blink at Bunny. Buttercup paused her work on the dishes and turned back to see what the silence was about. Bunny looked to Bubbles and pulled her lips in guiltily.

"Oops." She winced.

John lowered the glass and looked up at Bubbles who bared her teeth in an awkward simper, cinching it with a coughed out laugh.

"Dad—" she started but her dad cut her off.

"It's fine sweetie," John said, the smile on his face looking very much forced. "Like I said, they're not criminals. I mean, it's not as though you can't be friends with him. Even if he's a... Rowdyruff" he finished, eye twitching lightly. He'd taken Bear joining Bunny's band well enough, he could handle this, this was nothing, he thought as he rapidly gulped water.

The girls now all winced in unison, Bubbles especially. A thought abruptly erupted in her head, she looked at her disquieted father as he poured himself more water after hurriedly emptying the first glass. Honestly, she was possibly kind of cruel for doing this but, she might as well get it over with now.

She coughed again. "Dad," he looked up, "I just remembered that, um... Ms Venus said to say 'Hello'."

Oh how her sisters wanted to zip out of the kitchen so very, very badly.

John stared at her, lingering. His glass began to overflow.

"Um, dad." Blossom ventured, pointing.

John immediately righted the bottle and dropped it on the table. "You've met Olivia?" He asked, his tone unnervingly neutral.

"Yeah, Boomer and I have a Choir assignment and we've been practicing at... his... house." Bubbles had winced more in the past two minutes than she remembered ever doing in her entire life.

Bunny, Blossom and Buttercup were all darting surreptitious glances at each other. Really, if one of them made the move, the other two would instantly follow.

"She's really, really nice. You know, like you—like you said."

John blinked, before his lips slowly formed a thin smile. "That's wonderful dear," he said, his close eyed visage uncomfortably affable. He carried the glass as he stood, "Sorry girls. I have to get to work. I'll see you later."

The four girls watched in silence as their father shuffled out the kitchen—Bubbles shifting to give him room to pass—and into the lab, the door audibly closing.

"This is ridiculous," Bunny said once her and her sisters were alone.

"You think he knocked her up back in the day?"

"Buttercup! Why would you even suggest that?" Blossom reprimanded, issuing her sister a glare.

"I mean what else could it be? You mention that lady's name and he just..." Buttercup raised her open palms, looking for a word, but her sisters understood, perfectly.

"I kinda agree with Buttercup. Not that dad, you know, but he always gets like this, even when he's the one who brings her up." Bubbles said, pouting at the door leading to the lab.

"He should just tell us."

Three pairs of eyes turned to Bunny, her eyes hard as they peered at the lab door. "Why won't he just fucking tell us what's bothering him?"

Blossom bit back her automatic reprimand for language and instead said, "Bunny, it could be really complicated—"

"Bullshit it's complicated, he just doesn't trust us."

"How can you say that?" Blossom clamored.

"It took her publicly adopting the rest of the Boys for him to tell us about Bear. You really think he isn't keeping more for us?" Bunny faced her leader, scowling.

"You're really calling our own dad distrustful of us?"

"I'd call anyone who doesn't trust their own children enough to confide in them distrustful."

"He doesn't have to confide in us to trust us. If he's keeping a portion of his life private we have to respect his—"

"There's a difference between privacy and secrecy Blossom. He always—"

"We are not entitled to information on his personal life just because we're his daughters!"

"Girls, don't fight!" Bubbles cried frantically, looking between her sisters in surprise. Buttercup just stared, wide eyed, she herself perturbed as to when the shift in tone had even occurred.

"I am entitled to know more about his ties to that woman by virtue of my fucking existence!"

Blossom had already opened her mouth to angrily baste her for her language but the words got clogged in her throat as she absorbed Bunny's statement.

The anger on her face melted at Bunny's expression, suddenly feeling terrible for not putting herself in her shoes. There was something in her eyes as she scowled at Blossom, something that was much too... hurt, and deeply-rooted to be just anger. Bubbles and Buttercup looked equally as aflutter as their redheaded sister as they gazed at Bunny, both lacking words.

Bunny closed her eyes and released a heavy sigh, bringing her fingers up to her temple.

"Bunny..." Blossom started, her voice just above a whisper. "I didn't mean to—" Bunny cut her off by springing to her feet, angling for the door.

"I'm going for a walk." She announced as she disappeared from her sisters' collective view.

The sound of the door slamming seemed to reverberate as they stared after her.

She immediately lifted off to the skies once she was outside, her primary desire to get as far away from the house as possible. She didn't stop until she was thousands of feet above ground.

She slowed to a complete halt near a cloud, she looked down, Townsville and its surrounding cities resembling near-finished puzzles. The separated spots that were islands resembling the unused puzzle pieces. She sat on the air, raising her knees and hugging them to her chest.

She wanted to think she was angry at Blossom, but of-course that wasn't the case. Even though she should have understood where Bunny was coming from, and not reflexively berated her as if she intended to defame their father. She frowned. He was the one she was angry at.

She never understood why he didn't just talk to them about what bothered him so much about Ms Venus. Or at least her... she deserved to know. If not any of his personal relations with her, at least what he knew about her reason for executing her actions. He'd been flat out dishonest about virtually everything surrounding Bunny's reappearance until put in a corner by public proof that another superhuman besides her sisters and the three Rowdyruff Boys existed.

One that looked like Bunny.

Didn't he think that she deserved to know more about... about the woman who created her? Well, re-created her, if she wanted to be specific. She sighed, burying her head in the company of her knees.

Her phone chimed suddenly, she jerked to. She could get service up here?

She drew out her phone and saw it was a text from Bear. Something clicked right as she read his name on her screen. She couldn't talk to her dad about this—mostly because he wouldn't—but she decided to momentarily forget about that. She couldn't talk to her sisters either, while they would definitely listen, they wouldn't exactly understand, or be able to give her any answers. Neither of which she could blame them for, but still.

But Bear... wasn't that one of the reasons she'd wanted to talk to him so badly in the first place? He knew all about... he would understand.

She opened the text and immediately started typing without really looking at his message.

[Where are you?]

She hit send. He was typing a reply immediately.

[Morning to you too lol]

[Seriously, are you at home?]

[Giving me real serial killer vibes with this straight forward energy]

She snorted.

[Answer me!]

[Lol I'm at a Coffee Shop. You wanted to hang?]

[Yeah, send me the address]

After sending that, she quickly remembered E-Maps were a thing and shook her head.

[Nvm lol. I'll find you]

[Okay Carol Bundy]

She chuckled and shook her head this time. She pocketed her phone and dived forward, back towards the city.

She recognized Bear's parked car before she landed, and when her feet actually hit the pavement she saw Bear himself. He was sat alone at one of the tables in-front of the shop, shaded by a placed-in umbrella.

He looked up as she neared him, smiling dimly in greeting as he exhaled smoke. She smiled back, taking the empty seat in-front of him.

"I didn't know you smoke." She said, jerking her head at the cigarette in his hand.

He arched a brow, thinking about it. They'd actually only hung out in school and at practice, and he didn't tend to smoke at either of those places. The former for obvious reasons.

"Oh. Is it bothering you?" He asked. She shook her head, eyes flicking to his open book under his other hand.

"What are you reading?"

"Beyond Good and Evil."

"Nietzsche?"

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod, taking a drag. "You read his work?"

"Not really, but I'm familiar with it, it was a big part of World Studies last year. Did you get it printed yourself?"

Bear nodded, taking care to exhale the smoke away from her face. And when he closed the novel Bunny realized that it was in-fact a plain black hardcover. "You want some coffee?"

"Oh, sure..." she fumbled for her wallet, taking note of the empty coffee cup to his side, right beside the ashtray and almost full pack of cigarettes. She also noted that—having stormed out of her house in a tame fit of anger—she had forgotten her wallet. "Shit, I think I forgo—"

"It's a'ight." He waved it off, ashing the near-finished cig as he stood. "What do you want?"

She ceased trying to find her wallet in places she'd already checked and looked up at him. "Um, Americano..." she said. He rose a brow. "Double sugar?" She finished with a bashful smile, he snorted.

She watched as he strode through the shop doors, listlessly twiddling her thumbs. Her eyes roamed around aimlessly until they settled on his book, she considered taking a look at it, maybe just the prologue if it had one. After a few seconds, she'd talked herself out of that idea, just as he returned with a mug in hand.

She worded a thanks as he handed it to her. "So, what's up?" He ventured as he sat, willing a stick from the pack into his hand.

"Not much, just kind of in my head I guess," she answered, sipping her coffee.

"About what?"

Her gaze lingered on the mouth of her mug as she faintly bit her lip. His eyes tepidly flicked to the movement. She looked back up at him, his pointed gaze prevalent.

"You know, your power makes you seem lazy as hell," she said.

Bear stared at her, and for a moment it looked he was going to call her out on avoiding his question. Well, she assumed that was what it looked like, the boy's face was nearly impossible to read.

Instead, he smiled idly and said, "Wouldn't you be lazy if you could move stuff with your mind? I mean, I'm literally a walking life hack for chores."

She allowed herself a giggle, but the grin on her face slowly subsided as she watched him take a drag. "Did your mom help you out with it? To control it I mean?"

He hummed. "She helped me manage my anger, and that gave me better control of it by extension."

"You used to have a temper problem?" Bunny asked, finding it hard to picture any version of Bear that wasn't primordially nonchalant.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Growing up constantly called a freak by most of the people around you will beget that, you know?" He answered, and Bunny was momentarily stumped.

"Plus, we weren't so good off at first, when it was just the both of us," he continued, puffing smoke into the air. "So we weren't living in the most... friendly environment."

"How do you mean?" Bunny ventured heedfully.

"Let's just say, I found out the meaning of a lot of 'fun' words really early on. Including that one, you know, the one that rhymes with trigger." He finished, punctuating his statement with a silent drag.

Bunny felt her lower lip slack as her eyes widened. "Oh my God..." she couldn't even get her voice above a whisper.

Bear waved it off. "It's whatever. Well, it's not. But it is what it is."

Bunny gaped in disbelief, stuttering as she spoke. "You... you would have been so young, and even—even while you can shoot fucking lasers out of your eyes—" she paused for an incredulous laugh, slowly shaking her head. "—people still had the balls to throw that slur at you?"

He shrugged. "It's not that shocking, that they said it despite my powers," he said, with an audible complacence that surprised her. "It's about supremacy. Their belief is that we're—he gestured between them—principally subsequent to them. With that logic, they have pseudo evidence in our case."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we were created after our siblings." He answered pertinently.

A moment passed where Bunny just stared at him while he puffed his cig, a passing car briefly filling the quiet between them. There was a lot of meaning in that sentence, but, she realized she didn't need him to elaborate, it was kind of clear-cut. As a species, man was adaptive by nature, so naturally, once her sisters were created—his brothers not long after them—they eventually became a normality. Superhuman abilities or no. Once she came into the picture, she was instantly attached to an image, and it was no secret that—initially at least—she wasn't as... commercial as her sisters. Just because of the color of her skin.

Even though her family had never made her feel like such. They were very vocal about it, as well as extremely protective of her growing up.

Anyway, point was, he was saying they technically weren't special. And in a way, he was right.

"You've never experienced that? Or anything similar?"

"No, not really. I mean... well there was this time we had a photo shoot for this kid's magazine and, um, the photographers were being kinda... my dad took care of it anyway." She answered, sipping her coffee, though it was more of a gulp. "That must have been so tough for your mom, trying to protect you from that."

"It was but, really? She was even tougher," Bear replied, ashing the now finished second cig. "She always taught me to never apologize for who I was. That I was of value, despite generational, racial insecurities. And that the people who saw that, were the only people who mattered."

Bunny found herself nodding noncommittally, the corner of her lip curving up. "That's amazing... she sounds great, your mom."

"Yeah," Bear chuckled, briefly flicking his eyes away from her to smile yonderly, by the time his eyes shifted back his lips had thinned. "What did you want to talk about?"

Bunny blinked. "Huh?"

"You wanted to see me, and you said you were in your head about something that I assume is the reason behind that. Plus, you looked a little grated when you got here. What's up?"

Bunny blinked again, stumped at his intuitive attestation. He looked right into her eyes, making it hard, if not impossible to look anywhere else. There was something about his gaze—so direct and magnetic—that commanded you to hold it. It made him really easy to talk to, she realized.

"Has your mom ever told you anything about her and my dad?" She said, feeling like the question had asked itself.

He blinked thoughtfully, scrutinizing her beseeching expression. "Yeah, I guess. A few things," he answered.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "How they went to college together. Worked as lab colleagues for a bit. You know, basic shit. Apparently they were kinda tight."

She knew all of that for the most part. "You never asked for more info?"

He shrugged again. "Didn't really care to know," he replied, then jerked his head at her. "Do you?"

She hesitated, and he took that as a "Yes".

"Why don't you just ask your dad?" He inquired, and at her frown, he got his non-verbal answer again. "Oh... is that why you wanted to talk?"

Her eyes fell to the mug that she was holding with both hands. Bear only gazed, allowing her constellate her words.

"I just—" she blurted after a few seconds. "—I don't know why he doesn't want to talk to me. He didn't even tell me about you until the day your mom adopted your brothers. He hasn't told me what happened that made her leave Townsville. Or how and why your mom... created us. You know I have no memory of that whatsoever? I just remember waking up in his lab with him and my sisters surrounding me. I mean, doesn't he think I deserve to know these things? I don't fucking get it. If not my sisters then me, I do. I have enough issues dealing with the capriciousness of my mind as is, I don't understand why he would purposely withhold that kind of—"

She paused, realizing she was rambling, she looked away from the swirling brown of her coffee, back up at Bear's eyes, eyes that hadn't even twitched away while she prattled.

She groaned, propping her elbows on the table and raising her hands to place her face in them. "I'm sorry, I did—"

"Don't apologize."

She paused, lowering her hands just enough so she could look at him. His expression was soft, but gravely firm.

"Don't. I get it. I get you." He said, and they gazed at each other for a stretch longer before her hands slowly re-enveloped her eyes as she took an audibly deep inhale.

Bear didn't know the answers to all her questions, but... he did know the answer to one. It surprised him, that she had no recollection of her creation. Or how she'd ended up back in Townsville, with her dad. He hadn't even told her that?

The thought piqued his mind. He could tell her, after all... he'd been there. He'd been there when her dad unexpectedly came to their house. He'd been there when she'd awoken in her tube. He'd even eavesdropped on their parents as they discussed what to do with her...

He was surprised she hadn't even asked him.

He bit his lip. He could tell her. But he wasn't sure if he should, if there was already friction between her and her dad, this information would only thicken it.

He exhaled, steeling a resolve. "You should talk to your dad."

This time, she dropped her hands onto the table completely, but her eyes stayed glued to her mug.

"These are things you deserve to know. He doesn't have the right to withhold information that directly involves you from you. And I guess that you've obviously talked to him about this already but... try demanding it this time."

She didn't move.

"And if he still won't talk to you. My mom will."

Her eyes shot up, wide.

The look he returned was one of assurance. "If he doesn't lay it all out for you, then just let me know. I know my mom would be more than eager to talk you herself." He said, meaning it.

She slightly gaped at him for a few passing moments, her eyes wild with consideration. She flicked them to the side, sobering considerably. Then, eventually, she nodded and muttered an...

"Okay."

She sat back in her chair, slumping ever so slightly. He stared at her a long while before looking to his open cigarette pack. He immediately willed one over. Bunny looked up just as he lit it, watching him take the first drag and blow the smoke out into the air, away from them.

"Bear."

He dropped his hand, letting the cig hang in his lips as he faced her.

"Thank you."

He looked—always, always—directly into her eyes and nodded. His own eyes coherently telling her "You're welcome". Or, knowing him, probably "Sure thing."

She chuckled at her thought as he plucked the cigarette from his lips.

"Why do you do it?" She asked gesturing at it.

"Helps me relax."

"Doesn't it taste like shit though? Like, objectively?"

"Naw, not this brand. Cigs come in flavors now you know. This one's mint."

Bunny peered at the cigarette as he primed it for another drag. It did look different from a basic cigarette, it had a white filter and the body was brown, looking almost hand rolled.

"Do you know if it can damage you? Us?" She asked, equally referring to their siblings.

"Narcotics in general can't damage us. My mom ran a test on Butch—who happily volunteered—and found out we feel the effects like everybody else, but Chemical X heals any and all damage they cause to our bodies."

"Damn, we really are walking life hacks," She said.

"You think I'd be harmed by measly human substances? Bitch, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes." He jived, grinning as she laughed.

She shook her head at him as her laugh subsided into snickers. He snickered himself, before his attention was suddenly arrested by some guy nearly falling off his bike on the other end of the street.

She was suddenly hit with a wave of remembrance.

"Hey,"

He turned back to her, brows raised in question.

"Hm?"

"So, my birthday's in a few days..."

~End: Ch. 3~