Storm
Trivia: Writing Ace's accent is a bitch.
Note: Aerokinesis is the scientific(?) name for the ability to control air and wind. Also, I can't write battle sequences to save my life. Hopefully it isn't too bad.
EDIT (2/22/2020): Fixed grammar, some pacing, and formatting, as well as general writing style. Added some more details.
Chapter 3: Know Her Place
It had been three weeks since Buttercup had found Blossom and the redhead was doing her best to adapt to her new lifestyle. It was somewhat difficult to do so, as her mind was still set some eight years previous, though she knew that they all had aged. She tried her best not boss Buttercup around and then there was the fact of having to get to know people she had previously known very well. Sure, there were people she didn't know, like Jocey, a black girl who had been friends with Buttercup before the invasion and had become very good friends with her over the past eight years, but many she had known and it felt strange that she had to get to know them all over again. It was hard trying to find a place in an already established social hierarchy. Where did Blossom stand? She had been the leader, but now, after having reappeared after eight years, what was her place?
Buttercup was the leader of the Rebels and Mitch was her co-captain. Harry was the communications officer. Floyd and Lloyd were mainly patrol, Kim was mainly a scavenger, Jocey was artillery. Their places were clear and everyone else just fell into those that needed filling. Blossom had no such place. For the most part of the three weeks, she would help out random people with their jobs, but she was usually found reading books and catching up on the education she had missed. By the end of the third week, she had pretty much read all the books in the library, which, as she had learned from Mrs. Cavadini, had been severely depleted because the Resistance took most of them.
In fact, Blossom was currently sitting in a chair on the second floor, flipping through a battered copy of The Last of the Mohicans when she heard a familiar and distinctive voice. She looked up, frowning in surprise, and floated from her perch. Gliding over to the railing, she looked down to see a head of greasy black hair talking with a mildly unhappy Buttercup.
Resisting the sudden urge to groan, Blossom went back to seat and continued to skim her novel. Hopefully, the Gangreen Gang would leave soon.
"Aw, c'mon, Butters! We foun' some really awesome shit!"
Blossom rolled her eyes at Ace's futile attempts to get Buttercup to accept whatever they had found. This was the fifth time in her stay with the rebels that the gang had appeared. They always found 'some really awesome shit' whenever they came. From what Kim said, it was a pretty common happenstance.
And Buttercup respond with the same disdain each and every time.
"Ugh. What is it this time, Ace?" Buttercup's voice floated up from below and Blossom was tempted to look again. "And don't call me 'Butters'."
She didn't risk it, however, in case one of the gang looked up. They had decided to keep her existence a secret from everyone that wasn't a rebel, after all, against her better judgment. As much as she wanted to see the Professor and Bubbles again, she understood Buttercup's hesitance. Her memories from her time captive were still fuzzy, after all, and that would raise too many red flags until she could remember something more solid.
Therefore, the Gangreen Gang had no idea that she was alive.
"We'ssss not sure youssss can usssse it, but it'ssss cool," Snake said, receiving a resigned sigh from Buttercup.
"All right, let's see it," she responded and Blossom felt her curiosity spark when a wave of surprise came from her sister.
"Blossom."
Looking up from her book, Blossom looked around in confusion, before realizing that the call had come from her mind. Blushing, she leaned back in her chair and answered her sister cautiously.
"Did you call, Buttercup?" she asked mentally, frowning down at the book that no longer held her attention.
A small burst of awe came from Buttercup before she received an answer.
"I think…I think the Gangreen Gang found a piece of your ice wall from three weeks ago."
Shock immediately flooded her and her eyes widened. Her ice had lasted three weeks? She knew the wall she had created to protect Butch's unit had been big, sure, but she hadn't expected it to last very long. Besides, when she had made it, it had been the middle of July!
A sharp pain stung her temple causing her to grab her head. She rubbed it, frowning as a memory vaguely came back. It was too blurry to be of much use, but she could feel the cool chill of her cryokinesis on her palms and was startled to find that she had slightly frosted her novel. Gently brushing the frost off the pages, she tried to gather the strings of the memory while trying to piece together why her ice had lasted so long.
"…it's…per…ost…"
That statement was from her most recent recollection, another puzzle piece that was extremely ambiguous. She didn't know the voice; hell, she couldn't even hear the voice that well. For all she knew, it could be herself saying it, it was so garbled. She had no idea what the statement should say. It was something…but what was what?
Sighing, her head lulled back, hitting the back of her chair. Her amnesia was annoying. If there was one thing she hated, it was not knowing something. She hated having that helpless feeling. She prided herself on her intelligence. Not knowing something felt like an insult. But what was she to do? She had amnesia and she wasn't even sure she wanted her memories back. Her indecision made her irritated. She had always hated indecisive people. However, that wasn't what the problem was here.
Where had the proud and strong Blossom gone?
Meanwhile, Buttercup at this time was turning the rather large chunk of ice over in her hands. The block was still cold to the touch and, for some reason, there wasn't much perspiration on the surface. She had to remove her hands at certain points because her skin was actually freezing to the surface of the ice. She glanced up to the second floor, knowing that Blossom was curled up somewhere up there, and wondered briefly how she was handling the news.
"So? This is, like, proof that yer sista's alive, right?" Ace asked, fixing his sunglasses.
Buttercup snorted, rolling the chunk in her hands again.
"I guess this is better proof then just a story," she admitted reluctantly, deciding not to tell the man in front of her that her sister was already in the library at that moment. "You actually did find something 'really awesome' this time."
"C'mon, Butters!" Buttercup scowled at him, hissing out an irate "Don't call me that" and glaring daggers at him. "We always find awesome shit!"
Snorting incredulously, Buttercup handed off the ice piece to another rebel before returning her attention to the Gangreen Gang.
It was obvious that the gang had aged, but they still looked ridiculously young, a fact that Buttercup still found herself puzzling over. Glancing over the gang, she rolled her eyes at the matching leather jackets they all had. (She was still surprised that they had managed to find one that fit Big Billy. The boy had that nickname for a reason.) There were some differences from when they had been kids, such as their wardrobe and Ace's and Snake's hair. Both had let it grow out and Ace kept his in a ponytail, though he still had bangs, while Snake's was even longer and tied in a braid down his back.
Crossing her arms, Buttercup narrowed her eyes at Ace. "Okay. You brought what you found…why aren't you leaving?"
"Aw, babe. Ya wound me!" Ace dramatically placed a hand over his heart, looking hurt. "I just wanna spend some time wit'cha, that's all!"
Buttercup raised an eyebrow, not missing the way that Mitch, who was returning from a patrol, paused to check out what Harry was doing at the computers. She knew that her co-leader was actually stopping to see what Ace was playing at. Snorting and shaking her head, the green puff gave Ace a rather sarcastic smirk.
"And what makes you think I'll give you the time of day?" She gave him another cold smirk and turned on her heel, heading towards the closest staircase. "Besides, I'm busy as all hell what with Brick suddenly calling back all active military units."
"Oh really? Then why did you have time for us, Butters?" Ace asked as he followed after her, ignoring the glowing green glare she sent him. "I mean, if yer sooooo busy and all, couldn'tcha, I dunno, gotten a grunt or sumptin' to see what we had?"
Buttercup resisted the urge to grind her teeth, trying to ignore the heavy footfalls of the Gangreen leader behind her. She didn't want to admit to Ace that she was going slack with patrols. It was just that after finding Blossom, she felt that she no longer had to do them. She had found her sister, who had been the reason behind all the patrols in the first place. (Well, she had never verbally said that, but to her, that was always the reason behind them.)
Of course, the heavy traffic coming from the Resistance soldiers did indeed keep her busy. She wondered how many times she had shoved Blossom into a closet because a soldier was about to walk by. She took the stairs two at a time and reached the second floor quickly, trying not to think that she was running away from Ace. As if he of all people could scare her. He only really made her skin crawl now.
His footsteps slowed behind her and she sighed. Maybe he was taking the damn hint.
Glancing around, she sent a call out to Blossom mentally. There was a moment of silence and then an unimpressed cough came from her left.
Heat flooding her cheeks, she turned to see Blossom sitting in one of the chairs and looking curiously at her. Her sister had a look that clearly questioned Buttercup's intelligence before it suddenly clouded over. A chill went down her spine causing her to curse under her breath.
"Weeeeeelly, welly, well, well. Look who it is!" Ace said, lowering his sunglasses as he eyed Blossom. "If it isn't Little Blossy!"
Blossom's pink eyes flashed and she softly hissed, "Don't call me 'Blossy'."
Ace just smirked in response, turning to Buttercup. "Oh? You needed proof that she was alive? I mean, she looks pretty much alive to me!"
The rebel leader snarled in response, eyes flashing dangerously.
Apparently, Ace developed a neurosis that said smiling salaciously at angry Powerpuffs was a good idea. She was trying to remember why she had had a crush on the man in front of her. He was sleazy and annoying beyond all hell. Closing her eyes to try to calm herself, she supposed that's exactly why she had liked him. The whole…fake bad boy scum thing. She resisted the urge to gag and, opening her eyes, found Ace walking casually towards the now standing Blossom.
The pink puff's muscles were tense, but it wasn't visible unless someone had grown up with her…someone like Buttercup.
Upon seeing her sister tense, she growled threateningly, "Stay away from her, Ace."
"The Resistance know?" Ace asked, completely ignoring her demand.
He glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly, resisting the urge to grin as her jaw tightened.
"O-Of course!" she scoffed and crossed her arms.
She swallowed thickly. Ace wouldn't tell the Resistance…he couldn't! The Resistance…well, no, Princess hated him and there was no love lost between Ace and Butch, but otherwise, no else cared much for him or his gang. But tell them that Blossom was alive?
Ace seemed to catch the slight tremor in her voice and victoriously smiled at her. He, obviously, was on the same train of thought. "So…I guess me telling 'em that Blossy here is alive won't, y'know, surprise 'em?"
"Of course not!" she said, scoffing again to hide her growing panic.
Images of Resistance soldiers coming to drag Blossom away filled her mind and a bitter taste filled her mouth. No, it wouldn't be soldiers; she had a gut feeling that Brick himself would come to take her sister away. Ace's grin only seemed to widen.
"Let's go call 'em, then," he said, leaning against the bookshelf indifferently. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and, taking one out and placing it to his lips, lighted one with a battered green Zippo lighter. Clicking the lighter shut, he took a drag and turned to her. He let the smoke out as he said, "Well?"
Clenching her fists, Buttercup felt her anger boil in her veins. Why was she acting so afraid of this pathetic excuse of a man? Her eyes narrowed and for a split second, a fiery, green aura wrapped itself around her body before a wave of cold anger and disappointment slammed into her system.
Gasping, eyes widening, Buttercup flicked her gaze to the utterly unreadable Blossom. If she wasn't feeling Blossom's emotions at the moment, she would have sworn that the pink Powerpuff was unaffected by their current situation.
"No, the Resistance doesn't know about me," Blossom said, ignoring the flare of anger from Buttercup.
She was somewhat surprised how easily she slipped back into her leader persona. It felt good to have control of a situation, even if it was tenuous at best. She lifted her chin with a cold look despite Ace towering over both her and Buttercup.
Ace looked at the redhead from over his shades, smirking around his cigarette. Looking her over, he took in her large sweater and jeans and chuckled. If Buttercup was any reference, Ace was pretty damn sure that Blossom was a babe under that baggy maroon sweater.
The redhead scowled at him, her nose scrunching up in a way that Ace found absolutely delectable. Personally, he preferred Buttercup, but Blossom had grown up pretty well, too. Plenty of decidedly unwholesome thoughts were forming in his mind and a lot of them revolved around one or both of the sisters coming to him in the dead of night.
"Pig," said redhead hissed, crossing her arms.
He raised an eyebrow, still grinning suggestively. Opening his mouth to retort, he was cut off by Buttercup.
"Yo, shit bag. She can read your thoughts," she snapped, causing the sunglasses wearing man to whip towards her in shock.
"W-What?"
"Yeah, your little fantasies? Yeah, Blossom's been telepathically sending them to me." Her face looked particularly murderous and she cracked her knuckles ominously. "Hey…you remember the good old days when we beat your sorry asses? No? Well…"
Smirking, Blossom shook her head. "Buttercup."
Ace looked between to the two sisters in shock, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. His cigarette had fallen out of his mouth due to his jaw dropping and he aggressively crushed it to hide his embarrassment.
Clearing his throat, he spoke to the two women, "Okay. So…Blossy's here." He ignored the narrowed pink glare he received at this comment. "And the Resistance don't know a thing…"
Buttercup looked at him, eyes once again glowing her signature light green. "What are you insinuating?"
He shrugged, straightening his leather jacket. "Hey, y'know that the Resistance will pay pretty well to know that Little Blossy here's alive."
"Not without proof," she growled as Snake suddenly appeared besides her. "Holy—! What the fuck, Snake!"
The gang member didn't answer her immediately; he just stared blankly at Blossom for a few moments before clearing his throat. He looked almost haunted and in awe when he said, "Wellsssss, there sssstill issss that icccce, youssss knowssss."
Blossom's blood ran cold at that. How much of her ice had survived? Her expression must have betrayed her terror because Buttercup rounded on Snake faster than the green-skinned man's namesake.
The gangster stumbled backwards at the force of her glare and gulped fearfully. Buttercup could be very scary when she was angry. Especially when her eyes were glowing nearly radioactive green.
"There's more?" she snarled as her body lighted up with green energy.
It was obvious that Snake was scared of her and, from the stuttering bursts of fear, so was Blossom to a point. But what could Buttercup do? When she got angry, her newest ability, gained no doubt around the same time Blossom gained her telepathy, activated. Mitch called it her "berserk mode"; she jokingly called it her "Butch mode". Both names fit because she usually lost all sense when she used it. That was one of the reasons why she tried not to use it too much. Not just because she lost a lot of energy, but also because she lost herself. It was terrifying enough when she was younger, when, for the longest time, no one knew their individual names, but now, years later, when she had her individuality, it was so much more terrifying. Because it wasn't just her individuality she was losing; no, she was losing all aspects of herself: her mind, her personality, and her inhibitions.
"Buttercup. Calm down." An authoritative thought forced its way into her diminishing mind and some instinct, some long forgotten kneejerk reaction, told her to heed this voice.
Taking gulping, deep breaths, she stared at a point above Snake's head and allowed her once battle ready muscles to loosen. She unclasped her fists, not surprised when she found bloody crescents where her fingernails had dug into the skin.
She had to calm down. Her temper was her flaw. She always wanted to go with no thought or caution to inhibit her. That was why she had Mitch as a co-captain. There was no way she would have been able to lead the rebels without him.
Gritting her teeth, she asked Snake again, "There…is more ice?"
It still sounded like a growl but, without the fiery aura that signified her berserk mode, Snake was a little more willing to answer. At least without the fear that she would blast his head off if he answered wrong.
"Y-Yessss. There'sssss a lot more," he told her, wincing as Ace slapped his forehead. "Ssssorry, Acccce."
Arms crossed as she took in the news, Blossom looked at the three people gathered in front of her. It worried her that her ice had last so long. In the past, it had never lasted that long, not even when she first discovered it. The winter wonderland she had created at Pokey Oaks had melted by the same time the next day. Even the snow that had been the meteor had dissolved a couple of days later. But lasting three weeks? This was definitely new to her. It was almost like her ice was permafrost…
Eyes widening, her recollection from earlier came back to her, but no longer was the voice blurry. She still couldn't identify who was saying it, but the statement was clear now.
"It's like permafrost."
Her ice breath had first developed into cryokinesis when she became ten, just before she hit puberty. If she remembered correctly, Buttercup's tornado, which had always been stronger than either her or Bubbles', had suddenly developed into aerokinesis also around that time and Bubbles was suddenly able to learn foreign languages a lot easier than she had before about the same time. Nevertheless, it hadn't been this powerful…
Blossom had to remind herself, again, that it wasn't two years since she was ten, but ten years. Looking down at her hand, the redhead found herself wishing she could talk to the Professor. However, there was no way she could without alerting the Resistance that she was alive.
The Professor, from what Blossom had learned from Buttercup and Mrs. Cavadini, was, while not an officer, an important figure in the Resistance. He wasn't allowed to leave the Resistance headquarters without an armed guard of a least six soldiers and one of the four superpowered humans living there. So there was no way that Blossom could get him to the library without alerting one of the Rowdyruffs or her sister of her presence.
Despite her desperate desire to do so, she just couldn't do it. She didn't want to fight Bubbles or Brick. She just wanted her family back together.
The tears came unbidden, but thankfully, Buttercup was too busy ripping Snake and Ace a new one to notice as she rubbed at her eyes. She didn't need to show the Gangreen Gang weakness. Her sister babied her enough as it was. She didn't want anyone else to realize just how vulnerable she felt.
A sinking feeling entered her stomach and a rather unpleasant thought filled her mind, followed by, yet again, the reiteration of the contemptuous "You're weak" from her memories. Brick would know that she was vulnerable. And Blossom knew he would. They had been able to tell that about each other and it never ceased to anger the other. It was an inherent ability developed after countless tussles, but Blossom hoped after ten years that the ability had become irreparably rusty.
"UGH. FINE! OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT, ACE!? NONE OF YOU ARE LEAVING HERE UNLESS I SAY SO!" Buttercup finally screamed and a collective hush fell, not only on the other three present, but the whole library.
A shout echoed up from somewhere on the first floor.
"WHAT!?"
It was followed by Arturo and Mitch scrambling up the stairs. Both men looked furious and bewildered at the same time. Arturo, who just barely reached Mitch's waist, was trying to make himself looked a lot bigger than he was.
"Whatchu mean nunna us are leaving unless you say so, chica!?" he snapped, glaring at the rebel leader.
"Buttercup…" Mitch growled and Buttercup turned to him.
Somehow, Mitch managed not to flinch at the nearly completely green eyes narrowed at him. Arturo, on the other hand, had taken shelter behind Mitch's legs.
Crossing her arms, she said to her partner, "They saw Blossom. They threatened to tell the Resistance. They are not leaving."
This was all said with the most murderous look that he had ever seen on her face in a long time. If there was one way to successfully tick Buttercup off, it was to threaten one of her family. Then again, Ace already had the preternatural ability to aggravate anyone enough to contemplate murder.
Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Mitch grudgingly conceded with her wishes. He was not going against her with this. After all, the moment she told him that they had seen Blossom, there was no way he was going to let them leave anyway.
"Looks like we have some new tenants," he remarked and the three gang members turned to him. He returned their shocked faces with a look of nonchalance. "You saw Blossom. We can't let you leave."
"Alive, at least," Buttercup added, smiling the most vicious smile that Ace had ever seen and even Blossom trembled lightly at the psychotic tinge to her sister's grin.
The pink puff was really regretting letting her sister fight Butch so much at that moment…
It was much later at night, around eight or so, when the rebels received a transmission from a returning Resistance unit. Immediately, the rebels went about the typical preparations that occurred whenever a Resistance unit arrived, which consisted mostly of them making enough room in the main library for all the soldiers to sleep. Mrs. Cavadini, Kim, and another rebel began preparing dinner for the soldiers and, thirty minutes later, the hungry calls of said soldiers were soon echoing through the library. From the ruckus they were making one would think that the soldiers hadn't eaten in days.
The men and women of the military unit milled about, settling down when Kim and the other rebel came out with a large cart carrying their dinner. They all gazed hungrily at it as if the food was some sacred gift. It took a while for the two women to give the soldiers their dinner. The unit was fairly larger than the other units that Blossom had witnessed. Upon settling her gaze on the commanding officer from her second story perch, suddenly remembered something that Harry had told her earlier.
"The units lead by Bubbles, Boomer, and Brick are three of the largest."
That explained the surplus of soldiers and Blossom continued to stare at the commanding officer, committing all his features to memory. She really should have realized that the Rowdyruff Boys would be incorrigibly good-looking, just as she and her sisters were. (Blossom was pretty darn sure that Bubbles was as beautiful as, if not more so than, her and Buttercup.) She wasn't surprised that they had developed the features they been lacking like she and her sisters had. She wondered briefly when they had gone through puberty because they hadn't had fingers or noses the last time she had seen them.
As she looked over the man now talking with Mitch, Blossom felt a sharp pang of longing.
Seeing Boomer suddenly made her wish that Bubbles was here.
She sighed, falling back into one of the chairs. Boomer did look very handsome, that was for sure. His blonde hair was shaggy, like how she remembered it, but looked feathery at the same time and maybe a little longer. (Then again, it was ten years since she last saw him, so she couldn't be sure.) He was a few inches taller than Mitch and with the lean muscle of a track runner. The years had been good to him, giving the blonde Rowdyruff very handsome, boyish features. Of course, he still had those beautiful cobalt eyes, now less mischievous and more serious, but they were still the eyes of her bubbly sister's counterpart.
Blossom groaned, flipping her bangs out of her face. As much as she enjoyed seeing another superhuman other than Buttercup, she knew that if Boomer found out about her, he would tell Brick without hesitation. If Bubbles had been extremely loyal to her, Boomer, as Bubbles' counterpart, would be, in theory, just as loyal to Brick. So Blossom hid herself on the second floor, clutching her knees to her chest as she thought over her predicament.
She listened to the sound of the soldiers talking and the occasional shout without really paying attention. It was a weird feeling, being so close to people that, had she never disappeared, she would have been comrades with. Eyes closing, she let her head fall back. She felt awfully antisocial, hiding away from everyone, but it was for her own safety.
It was driving her insane.
Before she had disappeared, she had been the leader and that had been her place. She took upon herself the title of leader and "eldest". She had been the responsible one ever since the time when they were first created and the Professor was worried about how the people would react to their powers. She had been the one to reprimand Buttercup for wanting to act recklessly, to go against orders, but now…now Blossom wanted desperately to act out, to have the soldiers see her. She wondered why she had this reckless craving, but she knew that she would never act on it.
"Still the responsible one, even after all this time," she thought to herself, letting her thoughts drift. "Still…the responsible…one…"
What seemed like moments later, Blossom was jolting awake, eyes widening as almost sludge like thoughts invaded her mind. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes and then her head as she looked around the darkened library. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep. It had been a nice peaceful sleep too, despite how much she had been stressing over. Well, it had been fitful until those thoughts had entered her mind, anyway.
Now fully awake, she stretched and quietly stood, frowning as she tried to remember those thoughts that had wakened her. A shiver passed through her and she shook her head to clear those vile thoughts from it.
The mere thought of them made her skin crawl.
"Emmons? What's up?"
She almost missed the whispered voice despite her super-hearing, but she instantly focused on it, turning her body to the source. She looked down at the first floor, seeing one soldier standing while one of his comrades was propped up on an elbow, looking up at him.
The one she assumed was Emmons pulled something from his waist causing red flags to go up in her mind. Now focusing on this man, she forced herself into his mind to do…something, anything to stop him from no doubt harming his comrade. What she found had her gripping the railing for support as the same evil, sludgy thoughts from earlier filled her head. They were so dark and so putrid, like they had been allowed to fester and decay for years as hatred built up in the man that stood among his sleeping peers.
Her vision blacked out and she felt herself tip forward. The next thing she knew, she was looking at the ceiling as a surprised shout of "Emmons" and the retort of a gun echoed through the sleeping library.
Immediately, ignoring the groaning of her injured back, she was on her feet and jumping onto the top of a bookshelf. She landed lightly and, training her gaze on Emmons, felt an odd feeling of familiarity. It wasn't because the man looked familiar; he was a complete stranger to her. No, the feeling was about something else…something about those thoughts…
"You!" Emmons hissed in a voice that should not have come from a human throat, literally foaming at the mouth at the sight of her.
Furrowing her brow in thought, Blossom retained a relaxed expression even as she tensed her muscles for battle. A guttural growl escaped the man's throat and he lunged forward, flying over the ground much faster than a normal human. He threw himself at the bookshelf, upsetting it, but she instantly took flight, still probing his mind.
She felt like she should know why he was acting like that and, as she found a promising memory, the skin on Emmons' hands bubbled and dark colored knife-like protrusions exploded from them. Eyes widening, not only at the blades but also the memory, she flew higher, but wobbled slightly. She scolded herself for not using her powers more in the three weeks that she had been there.
In the next moment, as Emmons glared up at her, Blossom vaguely heard the surprised gasps of the Resistance soldiers. However, she was more focused on trying to make Emmons' memory clearer than the reactions of the troops. Some part of her knew that it had been stupid to jump on top of the bookshelf, but another part, the part that had been dormant for so long, knew that she had done what any hero would've done. However, she didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts as Emmons suddenly crouched as if he were about to jump. For some reason, she became wary at his actions and then shook her head, scolding herself. A normal human couldn't jump high enough to reach her!
She gasped as Emmons literally jumped the twelve feet between them. She twisted, managing to dodge the weird blades that had grown from his hands, and caught sight of his face. A cry of surprise and disgust escaped her throat as she landed on another bookshelf, her hands instantly covering her mouth. What was happening to Emmons? His face was grotesquely deformed on one side by weird, black pustules where the skin had darkened as if burned. The whites of his eyes were a shocking yellow and the irises, which Blossom assumed had been hazel before, were now a weird orange color.
It was at this moment, of course, that the memory suddenly became crystal clear.
Emmons was slowly surveying the wreckage from the most recent battle with the aliens. He sighed, adjusting his grip on his rifle. They were all so tired. Thank God that the Rebels' base was extremely close. Now smiling slightly, the twenty-something walked around one of the decimated tanks of the alien troops. He stopped abruptly, rifle ready, at the sight of an alien corpse.
Cautiously creeping closer, Emmons noticed the distinct burns and cuts that could only come from the blasts and psionic sword of Boomer. Relaxing, the soldier let out a soft sigh. Despite his kind demeanor, Boomer was vicious in battle. That was one of the reasons why he feared his commander.
As the soldier turned, something grabbed his ankle and the next thing he knew, he was being pressed to the ground. Opening his mouth to shout, a bleeding wrist was forced into it and he gagged as the blood covered his teeth and tongue.
Something leaned towards his ear and hissed, "Drink!"
For some reason, he felt compelled to listen to the voice and drank deeply, swallowing the heavily metallic tasting blood.
The voice groaned and then said, "And you…will find Blo…ssom…and…ki…ll…"
As the alien slackened its grip, Emmons threw it off him, rubbing furiously at his mouth and spitting on the ground.
"Emmons!" The soldier stared at the alien for a moment before running towards his commanding officer's call.
It took Blossom a moment to realize that Boomer's shout wasn't just from the memory. The blue ruff stood only ten feet away, a blue sword made of energy in one hand. His cobalt eyes were glowing faintly and flickered between Emmons and Blossom. She turned to him, blinking away the fuzziness that witnessing Emmons' memory had caused.
Briefly, Boomer let his gaze rest on her and she could tell he was deciding on how to act. When he turned his gaze away, it was clear that he found Emmons the higher priority. Taking a breath, she also turned her attention back to the soldier.
The mutated man looked between the two superpowered beings, though his eyes constantly returned to Blossom. Snarling ferociously as he apparently made his decision, he disregarded Boomer and raced towards her.
The redheaded woman narrowed her eyes and somersaulted backwards, Emmons' blades just catching her hair. As she landed, she stretched out her hand, which was glowing pink, and blasted him in the chest. The soldier went flying backwards and slammed into an empty bookshelf, denting the metal. For a moment, she felt dread fill her heart as he slumped. Had she killed him?
"Oh God…" she groaned as she looked at the man.
She couldn't have, could she? She never killed a man before. But as she thought that, a sharp sting came from her temple. Eyes widening, Blossom saw disjointed images flash before her eyes as Emmons got to his feet. Collapsing to one knee, she gripped her head and tried to force the memories back. Now was not the time to sort through the muddy images.
At this opening, Emmons lunged forward and Blossom, without meaning to, slipped back into his mind.
The alien's words were what she first heard and then, delving deeper, she heard a softer, but more ardent, voice.
"Save me! I don't want to do this! Stop! Stop me!"
Gasping softly, she looked up and winced as those blurry, red memories swirled behind her eyelids. Emmons needed help, so her recollection of whatever happened before would have to wait.
Boomer had cut off the soldier, but wasn't doing much more than blocking Emmons' attempts to get to her . Slowly getting to her feet, she looked at the back of Boomer's head with a strong feeling of empathy. He didn't want to harm his subordinate, but knew that he had to.
And she knew what she had to do too.
Standing at her full height, Blossom swayed ever so slightly before rushing towards the two struggling men. She had to end this. From what she could tell, Boomer was too soft-hearted to take out his own soldier and while she had no doubt that any of the others may be able to, she was not about to let any of them do that. She had a better idea.
If they could find a cure to the alien blood he had ingested then maybe, just maybe, they could save Emmons, but the only way to keep Emmons from killing anyone else at the moment was her cryokinesis. She set her mouth into a grim line. She could do this. Her place had and would always be to save people, even from themselves.
Even if they doubted her.
"Boomer!" she called, feeling weird about saying the blond man's name after so long. "Move!"
Glancing back at her, he shot into the air just as she took a deep breath. She then exhaled, releasing the blizzard inside of her and freezing Emmons completely. She had timed it perfectly, too. One of the blades attached to Emmons' hands was just a few inches from her stomach.
Letting out a sigh, she landed in front of the frozen soldier and gently touched the ice encasing him. She felt sorry for the man in front of her. Because for some reason, she felt it was her fault that he had been used by that alien. Heck, she felt that the whole situation was her fault. If she hadn't been so careless…
At the sound of footsteps, she turned around and met Boomer's cautious gaze. The Resistance officer was frowning and, after a painfully pregnant pause, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder.
Boomer's brow furrowed and dropped his hand, as if surprised that she actually stood in front of him. He opened his mouth, murmuring softly in his confusion, "Blossom?"
The pink puff smiled shyly at his confusion. "Hi, Boomer. How have you been?"