Storm
Edit/Update (2/28/2020): Fixed grammar, writing style, and flow. Added some additional diction and dialog where needed to fill out the story.
Chapter 5: The Resistance
The journey to the clothing department took shorter than Blossom thought, despite how large the Resistance base was. Of course, if anyone asked her what the route was they had taken, she would have just stared blankly at them with a sheepish smile.
Saying that Boomer took a confusing course was putting it lightly. After the seventh turn, she had given up trying to remember what way they had gone. She was impressed that he had actually managed to remember the way, seeing as he hadn't been the sharpest tool in the shed back when they were younger. She supposed that was a bit unfair, but old habits were hard to break.
The route they took was long and winding and, though most of the halls were straight, there were too many crossroads for her not to get confused. Additionally, many of the hallways also were connected to larger rooms that gave the underground headquarters a rabbit warren-esque feel.
"Clothing department? It sounds like this place is a mall," Buttercup remarked as Boomer led them through a pair of automated doors. "…make that a warehouse…"
Warehouse fit much better than the simple 'clothing department'. There were rows and stacks of containers full of attire as far as the eye could see. Large signs denoted where everything was and what sections belonged to what age and gender group. Everything had a very industrial feel to it, making it very organized and rather impersonal. Blossom glanced around at the dark gray and silver containers with interest as Boomer lead them through the rows.
Buttercup looked extremely bored, she noticed, and maybe even a little uncomfortable. It probably reminded her of clothes shopping and God knew how much the green-eyed woman hated clothes shopping.
In contrast, Blossom felt almost like Alice as she followed Boomer through the rows, through stacks and stacks, with signs that she only just understood. Particularly if she remembered their walk here. Alice had gone down a rabbit hole and Blossom was finding that she might not be far off herself. At least, she was able to remember her way this time. Where the blue ruff was exactly taking her and Buttercup, however, she wasn't sure.
They had already past three people, all of which looked shocked and curious about the two people he had in tow. It soon became apparent that Boomer was looking for someone specific as they passed two more people dressed in gray-blue uniforms.
Frowning in confusion, her eyes bore into the back of his skull as he finally stopped in front of a stooped woman.
Buttercup and Blossom looked at each other and then towards the woman as he cleared his throat.
"Oh! Oh, Boomer! You scared me!" the woman remarked, holding a hand over her thumping heart. (The three superhumans could hear it rather clearly, despite the music echoing from some music player in the front of the department.) "What is it you need, dear?"
"What…Ms. Keane!?" Buttercup exclaimed as the woman smiling at the three was indeed their old kindergarten teacher. "What-What are you doing here?"
Ms. Keane clearly looked just as shocked to see her. She stared for a moment, her hand slowly falling to her side.
"I could ask you the same thing, Buttercup!" she responded, blinking her bright blue eyes owlishly. "Why are you here at the Resistance?"
Mouth opening and closing uselessly, Buttercup fought to collect her thoughts. Finally shaking her head, the green-eyed woman responded, "Well, you see…a-about that…uh…"
She floundered to elaborate, looking between Blossom and Ms. Keane as if that could help. She eventually settled for a grimace and an odd hand waving movement.
Their former teacher only looked more confused. The green puff crossed her arms in response.
Boomer made a noise in his throat and, gently taking her by the arm, pulled Ms. Keane into a more deserted section of the department. The two puffs followed loyally behind him, more out of lack of knowledge of what to do than anything else. Once he made sure that no one was around, glancing about to double check his assumption, he then turned to Blossom. Tugging the young woman in between him and Ms. Keane, he used his body to block the end of the aisle and made a sort of human shield for the red-haired young woman.
"She's the reason Buttercup is here," he said, pulling back her hood.
It was safe to say that Ms. Keane was shocked.
The fact that she had fainted just added to that certainty.
"Oh my God! Ms. Keane!" Blossom instantly dove to the woman's side, Buttercup and Boomer right after her. "Ms. Keane! Ms. Keane!"
"Wha-What?" The older woman blinked blearily, holding her head as Boomer helped her sit up. "Ohhh…I thought…I thought that…"
Blue eyes met rose and Ms. Keane's mouth dropped open. She unabashedly stared at Blossom, one hand reaching out shakily. The moment her fingers met the soft skin of her face, tears pooled in Ms. Keane's eyes and she covered her mouth.
In response to her reaction, Blossom smiled lovingly, enjoying the warm feeling in her chest. If Ms. Bellum had been Blossom's ideal for a businesswoman and leader, Ms. Keane had been her ideal for a mother and caretaker. Seeing the blue-eyed, raven-haired (though she noticed that she had a little gray now) woman made that warm feeling grow into something Blossom hadn't felt in a long time. The familiar feeling had the same familial connotations as that fuzzy feeling that she got when she first saw Buttercup and the Professor.
After all, she and her sisters had sworn that their father still held a torch for their old teacher. Even they too had considered her the closest thing to a mom they ever had.
"Hi, Ms. Keane," Blossom murmured, still smiling at her warmly.
"Blossom needs clothes," Buttercup explained as Ms. Keane continued staring at her redheaded sister.
"Clothes…yes, right," their old teacher said, nodding as Boomer carefully helped her up. "Thank you, Boomer. Right. So…" She blinked rapidly at Blossom, tilting her head in curiosity. "Do you know your sizes?"
A blush formed on Blossom's cheeks as she shook her head.
Frowning, but seemingly unsurprised, Ms. Keane took her hand and lead her away from the aisle. Pulling her hood over her head, Blossom followed behind obediently and let her former teacher take her wherever. Ms. Keane knew the department better than she did, probably better than either Buttercup or Boomer did, so she felt safe allowing her to lead her.
They passed a few more aisles until they came to a door, which was the typical silvery color with blue lining. The blue-eyed woman waved her hand over the circular blue motion sensor and the doors swished open with a soft, pneumatic hiss. Gently pushing Blossom into the room, Ms. Keane turned to the two other superhumans who had attempted to follow her.
"Unless you're going to help me with measuring which, if you've forgotten, I don't need, I'd like it if you two stayed here," she said with a chastising tone.
She was holding up one finger and the look on her face was enough to even make Buttercup pause indecisively.
Pouting uncharacteristically, said green-eyed woman huffed and crossed her arms, settling against a random clothes container. Boomer followed suit, though he instead stuffed his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the tub nonchalantly. Honestly, it was like she told them that they couldn't play with a puppy with the way they were acting.
Eyes narrowed at the two, Ms. Keane then slipped into the room, closing the door securely behind her. She stared at it for a moment, collecting herself, before she took a breath and turned around. Seeing Blossom made tears yet again enter her eyes. It had been too long since she had last seen her, too long since she had seen the Girls all together. She could only imagine how John had reacted when he had seen her again.
There no doubt had been tears.
Smiling at the young woman in front of her, the former kindergarten teacher pulled a tape measure off a shelf. She could ask the Professor later. She had work to do.
"Shall we begin?" she asked, smiling warmly.
The deft fingers of Ms. Keane worked quickly with the tape and she wrote down every measurement as soon as she found it. Despite trying to act as if she was unaffected, a warm blush was covering Blossom's cheeks as the older woman took her measurements. She wasn't embarrassed because it was Ms. Keane measuring her; it was more so she was embarrassed because of the mere fact she didn't have the slightest inkling as to why Ms. Keane was taking certain measurements. Like the inside of her leg, why did that need to be measured? And then, of course, to her sheer embarrassment, Ms. Keane had to ask about her chest size.
Flushing vividly, Blossom shuffled nervously, before shyly shaking her head to pass along that she had no idea what her breast size was. When she was twelve, she was just making the transition from camisoles to real brassieres and her breasts hadn't fully developed yet. Seeing as that's where the clearest of her memories ended, Blossom wasn't sure what size bra she would need. Glancing down at the large hoodie and the baggy shirt she wore under it, she couldn't help her mind going to the voluptuous form of her younger sister.
As if sensing her distress, Ms. Keane smiled indulgently at the girl.
"You've grown into such a beautiful young woman, Blossom," she remarked. She then motioned to her sweatshirt. "I'll get a better measurement if you remove your hoodie."
Glancing worriedly at the door, Blossom removed the dark blue sweatshirt. Smiling encouragingly at her, Ms. Keane then looped the measuring tape around the redhead's torso. The redhead tried to best not to squirm in embarrassment, looking stubbornly at the ceiling above her. A moment later, Ms. Keane was recording the measurement as Blossom pulled the hoodie back on.
"Well, shall we get you some clothes now?" Ms. Keane asked, still smiling widely. She paused at the door, turning to look at Blossom lovingly. "You know…I still don't know whether this is a dream or not…"
Blossom paused in lifting her hood and turned to her former teacher.
"It's not a dream, Ms. Keane," she answered. "And…and please don't mention me to anyone…not…not yet at least, please."
Frowning in confusion, but knowing that Blossom must have a good reason, the other woman consented, despite the maternal need to know everything about the girl in front of her. Smiling to herself, Ms. Keane couldn't help her mind going back to those times when all three Powerpuff Girls came to her for advice. Such a bittersweet memory now, a memory from gentler times, when all they really had to worry about were monsters and the occasional supervillain, and the Girls were just starting to worry about normal girl things.
Now, it was only Bubbles asking advice and even then, Ms. Keane was usually the last person she came to. The blonde woman didn't often need advice from her anymore, not with how the world had become. Normal was no longer normal.
Letting out a melancholy sigh, the raven-haired woman began leading the three superpowered adults through the aisles of the clothing department, pointing out containers full of clothes that would fit Blossom.
After picking out what she wanted (and what pieces Buttercup wanted her to wear), Blossom added to clothes to the small bin that Ms. Keane had somewhere picked up. (Her observation skills were somewhat lacking as of late and this worried Blossom.) Looking at the bin, she noted that she hadn't picked out a lot of clothing; from the frown on Buttercup's face, this fact hadn't escaped her sister either. Nevertheless, for whatever reason, Blossom was happy with that amount of clothing. As she turned to Boomer to announce that they could leave, she caught a stray thought of Buttercup's and, narrowing her eyes, whorled around to face her sister.
"Buttercup," she warned softly, completely unconvinced by Buttercup's attempt to look innocent. "I know what you're thinking."
While Boomer rolled his eyes at that, Buttercup just grinned widely. "That you do."
Nose wrinkling at the thought thrown at her, Blossom huffed, grumbling out a disgusted, "That's vulgar."
"I love you~," the green puff sang, draping her arm over Blossom's shoulder, oblivious to the confused Ms. Keane and unimpressed Boomer.
Blossom shoved her away, smiling half-heartedly.
"I know, I know," she responded. Turning her attention to Boomer, she noted that the Resistance officer looked impassive and wondered briefly how much Bubbles had changed if Boomer was acting so emotionless. "We can leave now."
The blond man responded with a half shrug and, after saying a quick goodbye to Ms. Keane, headed towards the exit. Buttercup followed him, also giving the woman a goodbye. That left Blossom. Acting impulsively, she threw her arms around Ms. Keane.
Startled, shorter woman returned the hug nonetheless. Blossom stood there for a moment, just enjoying the warmth that Ms. Keane seemed to cause in her. She closed her eyes, letting her mind go back to those times that seemed so long ago. Now, however, wasn't the time to dwell on what had been and what should be. Pulling back first, she gave her former teacher a watery smile, still enjoying the warm feeling in her chest.
"I'll send your clothes to your room later, all right?" Ms. Keane told her, smiling.
"Thank you," Blossom responded, feeling happy at the prospect of having her own clothes. The rebels practically shared everything, thus why they only had two pickup trucks of belongings. "Bye!"
She then left, hurrying to where Boomer and Buttercup were waiting. Saying a quick apology that was pretty much ignored on one part, the trio was soon weaving through the hallways again.
Though she had no idea where the Professor's lab was, Blossom made note of certain landmarks and other unique features in the halls. Things like a computer terminal at a crossroads, or signs that only seemed to appear at junctions in hallways. From her limited exposure to it, Blossom could tell that the Resistance was hi-tech and very futuristic (or as futuristic as her limited memories let her think). There were quite a few soldiers walking around, which she wasn't exactly surprised to see, but there seemed to be almost as many plainclothes people as well.
That did surprise her, if only a little bit. If those normal clothed people were actually soldiers, she wasn't sure. The temptation to look into their minds was there, very, very much there, but she held back on account of their privacy. That realization that she could hold back gave her pause. She hadn't noticed before, but, despite being unsure on how to use her telepathy actively, she nevertheless had good control over it subconsciously.
Another spark of worry grew at that, adding to the pile of worries her foggy memories gave her.
"There you are."
Whipping her head around at the voice, Blossom absentmindedly rubbed her neck, despite her not getting whiplash. The voice was both familiar and not, but that didn't stop something akin to excitement bubbling in her chest.
A young woman was walking towards them, her gorgeous blonde hair tied up in a professional looking bun on the back of her head. Her dark blue military uniform was immaculate and she was holding a computer tablet in her right hand. Her gaze sat firmly on said tablet, despite her calling out to them before. She seemed almost disinterested.
As the woman walked closer, Blossom noticed that Boomer had stiffened at the sound of the woman's voice. She glanced at him curiously, as she fixed her hood. It would not due to have someone realize who she was before this conference the Professor was planning.
"Bubbles," Boomer responded, his voice remarkably cool.
"Bubbles," Blossom thought, looking at her youngest sister with blatant longing.
She felt her heart constrict painfully as Bubbles merely glanced at her before staring unabashedly at Buttercup.
"And what are you doing here?" Bubbles snapped and Blossom was startled at the sheer steel of her voice.
Buttercup stiffened at that and her eyes narrowed into lime slits. Her fists clenched. A flicker of rage slithered through their empathetic connection.
"I decided to join the Resistance," she responded, scowling. Bubbles raised an eyebrow in surprise, eyes widening ever so slightly. "What? Don't want your big sister embarrassing you?"
Eyes narrowed into icy blue slits, Bubbles curled her lip at her sister.
"You are not my big sister. You lost that title a long time ago." Without waiting for a response, she turned to Boomer. "Brick wants to see you ASAP."
"Let me get these two to your dad's and I'll be right there," Boomer said and, looking at his face, Blossom saw the barest hint of longing on it.
Nodding curtly, Bubbles then turned sharply and continued to ignore Buttercup as said woman made faces at her. She walked away without sparing another glance to the disguised Blossom.
The look of longing was ridiculously clear now. The pink puff felt her heart go out to the young man next to her.
"Boomer," she murmured, gently touching his arm.
The blue-eyed man flinched at her touch and yanked his arm away. Staring at her with wide eyes that told her everything without the need of telepathy, he abruptly turned away and continued down the hallway.
Despite him once being her enemy, she found herself wishing she could do something for him. As she fumbled for the words she could say, because what could she say, he seemed to collect himself. His shoulders squared.
Without turning, he said, "Let's go."
They continued in a half-silence as all, but Buttercup who was grumbling darkly, were quiet.
Blossom wasn't sure how to react to this development. She had finally seen her littlest sister…and the girl who had been the sweetest, most cheerful little girl was now a steely cold woman. Tears beaded in her eyes and she clenched her hands into fists. How could this happen?
Glancing back at Buttercup, she felt the ludicrous desire to blame her. If Buttercup hadn't said…whatever to Bubbles, Bubbles wouldn't be this cold. If Buttercup hadn't made the rebels and had been a Resistance officer, Bubbles wouldn't be that emotionless woman. Biting her lip, Blossom scolded herself for being so hard on Buttercup. The person she really should be blaming was herself.
If she hadn't been so careless, none of this would have happened. If she had fought against Aterex, maybe her sisters would have realized what was happening. And then none of this would have happened. Blossom would be part of the Resistance with her siblings and she would be the leader that everyone trusted.
Eyes widening, Blossom wondered how her self-chastising rant had become one of jealousy. Closing her eyes and gently shaking her head, she looked down at her shoes in thought. She never realized that she had this hidden jealousy over the fact that Brick was a head officer. She knew she had acted surprised, but had she really been jealous this whole time? She hadn't even seen him yet! How could she be jealous?
"Oh, Boomer! Brick wants to see you!" Blossom looked up as some soldier called out to the blue ruff. Waving absent-mindedly at the soldier, Boomer continued walking.
And then the same thing happened again.
By the time they had reached the lab, Boomer's teeth were gritted tightly and his eyes were glowing. He had been told nearly five times after Bubbles had told him that Brick needed to talk to him. It was clear to both Blossom and Buttercup that he was less than amused. He had seemed down after talking to Bubbles, but after being repeatedly told that his eldest brother wanted to see him, the blue ruff's mood had just plummeted. Now, the blond man was near trembling in annoyance as he punched in the code to enter the lab.
Shifting awkwardly behind him, Blossom tried looking anywhere else but him, eyes dropping to the ground, to Buttercup, to the ceiling. She kept slipping into his mind, where very graphic images of murderous intent were playing like a bad movie marathon. It wasn't her fault that she kept doing it either. His thoughts were raging, their angry, red depths invading her mind by the sheer loudness of them.
He was annoyed at everyone. He was angry at Brick. He was angry at Blossom. He wanted to be angry at Bubbles. And he was angry at himself for these feelings he suppressed.
She closed her eyes, trying desperately to keep her mind apart from his. Dark thoughts always hurt her head. They were jagged and rough and cruel and bad, bad memories bubbled up from the familiar feeling. Red creeped behind them, staining her vision and mind with fog and mud and some dreadful feeling.
Shaking her head, the pink-eyed woman toyed with the zipper on her sweatshirt. She didn't want to see those memories. The recognizable feeling they had…the blurry, dark contents…they all screamed something at her that she just was unwilling to hear. They revolved around something that she didn't want to relive…something that made her tremble. Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath. She was strong, not weak. No matter what that infuriating memory her mind kept bringing up said. She was not weak. She was not—
A ridiculously cheerful beep interrupted Blossom's thoughts. The young woman looked up as the automated door zoomed open.
"Oh! There you are!" the Professor greeted, grinning widely as they walked up to him. "Everything go well?"
"Yes," Blossom answered, trying to resist the urge to glance around the lab.
She had always been fascinated by the Professor's work and had loved helping him out in his lab. There was just something about watching him work, watching him create everything from chemical reactions to machines, that had always amazed her. She hoped she would be able to see that again.
Refocusing on the Professor, she barely noticed Boomer turn to walk away. His shoulders still looked stiff and his walking was more like stomping.
The Professor noticed as well and, lifting a hand, called out to him, "Oh! Boomer!"
And that was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Throwing his arms into the air, Boomer whirled around and glared fiercely at the older man, his eyes aglow with anger. "I know! Brick needs to see me! HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU PEOPLE NEED TO TELL ME THAT!?"
Startled, the Professor flinched and Buttercup instinctively took a defensive position in front of him. Blossom herself had also inched in front of her father and, watching Boomer's expression, saw quite a few emotions flit across that handsome face. Among those emotions, anger and shock were the most clear. Obviously, he himself hadn't expected the shout to leave his mouth.
After a moment, said man's muscles relaxed. Shoulders drooping, he ran a hand over his face. He took deep, even breaths to calm himself.
"I'm sorry," he murmured lowly, so low, in fact, that, had Buttercup and Blossom not had super-hearing, they would have not heard it.
"Whatever," Buttercup muttered, crossing her arms, as the Professor fixed his tie.
Clearing his throat, the dark-haired man looked at Boomer with a rather fatherly expression. The sight, for whatever reason, surprised Blossom.
"That's not what I was going to say," he said, smiling fondly at the young man. "I was going to say thank you."
Blinking at that, the blond man flushed in embarrassment. "Oh…well, you're welcome…"
There was a pregnant pause before Boomer turned mechanically and exited the lab. The silence persisted as the three Utoniums glanced at each other. Shuffling awkwardly and clearing his throat again, the Professor ushered the two women deeper into the lab.
"So, right. Medical examinations," the Professor babbled, tapping randomly onto his tablet computer. He frowned a little and then looked up, turning his head. "Elmer! Come here!"
They stood there for a few moments before a breathless, bespectacled young man rushed over. He paused, catching his breath, and pulled out an inhaler, taking multiple puffs from it. Looking up, the man fixed his glasses and Blossom was astounded to see that it was indeed Elmer Sglue from her old class.
Opening her mouth to voice her surprise, she bit her tongue in her haste to close said offending body part. She still didn't know what the Professor exactly had planned and, though she was certain that Elmer wouldn't run for the door if she said anything, she was still reluctant to say anything. Biting her lip, she wondered when she had become so hesitant. And it wasn't caution, this feeling she had. It was pure hesitation.
"Y-You called, P-Professor Utonium?" Elmer gasped, still taking deep breaths.
The Professor smiled warmly at the young man and then gestured to Buttercup. "Yes, Elmer. Do you think you could do Buttercup's examination?"
"Say what now?" Buttercup turned to her father, her mouth opening wide.
Elmer's face looked rather red and Blossom was pretty sure that it wasn't just from the exertion of running across the laboratory. It looked like that certainly hadn't changed in the eight years she was gone.
"I'm sorry, what?" her sister reiterated, now starting to look rather angry.
Turning to her, the Professor gave Buttercup a meaningful look. "You want me to do a checkup on your friend, right, Buttercup? So, Elmer will do your exam to save time, okay?"
Pouting, the green puff looked to Blossom, appealing to her. However, said redhead was already walking away with the Professor. Jaw dropping open, Buttercup just stared at their backs with a mixture of shock and indignation. After a moment or two, she finally noticed shuffling from next to her and turned, leering at a nervous Elmer.
Blossom winced when she heard the panicked squeak from Elmer. If she remembered correctly, and she certainly hoped she did, Buttercup had always been a little tough on poor Elmer. Then again, he had had that puppy dog crush on her sister ever since that time she had apologized to him, so many years ago. Apparently, he hadn't quite gotten over it yet.
Shaking her head, she wondered briefly if he was a masochist. He had certainly seemed like a glutton for punishment with the way he always had chased after Buttercup, no matter how often she said to beat it. Again shaking her head, Blossom smiled a little, amused.
The Professor led her behind a curtain, where she took a seat on the bed that was there and pulled her hood off. The lab didn't seem to have walls, so much as curtains and screens that sectioned off areas. She wondered if this was the only bed here, or if there were others.
"So…it's been…awhile since your last checkup," the Professor said, tearing up again. Smiling warmly, Blossom reached out and took his hand into hers. Rubbing his eyes, her father took a moment to collect himself. "Right. Okay. So, I guess we'll get the basics out of the way and then move onto examining your powers."
"All right."
Nodding in consent, Blossom then prepared to put on the medical gown. The Professor, thankfully, turned to give her privacy and, as she pulled on the papery dress, she couldn't help her mind going back to the markings on her back. He would see them and she still didn't know where they came from. He was not going to have a good reaction. That much she was sure of.
Clutching the gown tightly, she pressed her lips into a tight line. That still bothered her, how she had no idea why she had been marked. It was something to do with Aterex, but that was really all she could recall. That and the colors red and pink.
"All right. This'll be like a normal checkup," Professor Utonium said and Blossom obediently sat on the bed.
The examination went smoothly, for which she was grateful. From the random indignant shouts of Buttercup, she could only guess that she and Elmer were having a little bit of trouble. Which really shouldn't surprise her, in all honesty. Buttercup hadn't really seemed very keen on a checkup, anyway, even before Elmer had stepped foot before them.
Shaking her head, Blossom sat up on the bed as instructed and flinched when the coldness of a stethoscope hit her skin. Of course, she knew she was supposed to be taking deep breaths and she did so, only she did it, not because she was instructed, but to calm her rapidly beating heart. The Professor's hand suddenly began to shake.
Her heartbeat skyrocketed.
He gasped.
He had seen those marks.
"B-Blossom…" His voice was hushed and she felt her nails dig into her palms as she waited for him to speak again. "These…" His fingers shook as he pulled the gown open a little more, pushing down her camisole to see more of the markings. "What…are these…?"
"Markings," she answered, holding her arms. "I…I don't remember…why I have them…" She didn't want to mention that she knew Aterex played a heavy role in why she had them, not when she could hear the panicked and angry thoughts of her father. "Please don't tell anyone about them, Professor. Please."
She could feel the Professor trembling and, for the second time that day, was assaulted by bitter, angry thoughts. Her father was angry that all this happened to his little girl. That she had to go through all this alone. That she had suffered and was now permanently marked for whatever reason.
Blossom felt tears well in her eyes. She felt happy, despite the angry thoughts. Her father trusted her, despite her absence, and was righteously angry for her. A part of her scolded herself for indulging in such recklessness, but the larger, more tired part welcomed it. She had missed her father too much to worry about his acceptance of her.
The Professor ran his fingers over her marks before sighing softly.
"Very well," he murmured. She turned to smile at him and was greeted by a sad smile in return. "Why don't you get dressed and then we'll run the tests on your powers?"
The Professor left then, probably to prepare whatever he needed to for the tests.
Sighing softly, she ran her hand over her face. He had taken the markings well, all things considered, and had agreed to keep them quiet. She would eventually tell Buttercup, but she wanted to remember what they meant before she did. At the moment, anything could set her sister off, she was sure of that.
Pulling her hoodie one, she continued to contemplate her father's reaction to her, his happiness and his anger. He was taking her return well, which she supposed on one hand was good and, no matter how tired she was, her darn brain was going to analyze his reactions.
From that one time she had entered his mind, she knew he was unsure on how to take her appearance, despite the deep happiness he had at seeing her. As much as he loved seeing her, he was also wary and worried because of the unknown attached to her. They didn't know what had happened to her and neither did she. The fact that he was being cautious made her happy.
If the Professor had willingly accepted her without a doubt like Buttercup had, she would have been disappointed. She knew the Professor was her father and that he would love her despite whatever she did, but he was also an extremely intelligent man and common sense told you to not trust someone completely until they earned that trust. Especially from someone who had been gone so long without anyone knowing where they had been. (When Buttercup's trust was gained, it was gained, regardless of what happened. Unless you did something extremely horrendous, you could count on her.)
Hopefully, she would be able to gain that trust again.
Now fully dressed, Blossom walked out from behind the curtain and found Buttercup already being examined for her powers. She was in a training simulator that had been hidden behind two screens, now rolled to the side, and was flying at a great speed. Elmer was dutifully recording it and there was beep as a light green number appeared on a screen by his elbow.
Looking curiously at it, she edged closer and didn't notice when the Professor appeared at her elbow right away. She jumped when he touched her shoulder. Turning to look at him, she found that he had his attention on his tablet computer. Curiosity taking over, she also looked at it and saw the same screen by Elmer mirrored on the tablet. There were five colored names, each with numbers listed under them. She noticed that the light green name ("BUTTERCUP") had only three numbers, while the other four ("BRICK", "BUTCH", "BOOMER", and "BUBBLES") all had multiple.
"We've always known that Buttercup was the strongest of you girls, but she's on par with Boomer and nearly as strong as Butch and Brick," the Professor noted. "Of course that's in upper body strength. Her kicks are as strong as Butch's, which are just a smidge weaker than Brick's. And her speed is on par with Butch's normal speed. Of course, as they are counterparts, I guess it's not that surprising."
As the Professor spoke about Buttercup's strengths, Blossom noticed that he referred to most, if not all, of their secondary special abilities. Like how he said that Buttercup's speed was on par with Butch's normal speed. Did that mean Butch had a speed based ability? And how Buttercup had good stamina for using her energy-based powers, but wasn't as good as Brick or Boomer. This information intrigued her, but despite her urge to ask all she could about it, she didn't. She was certain she would learn about those abilities sooner or later.
The Professor, as he talked, had led her to what could only be described as a large target. It was black with red, blue, and yellow rings radiating from the central white dot.
Brows furrowed in confusion, Blossom turned to her father. "What…am I supposed to do?"
The Professor tapped a few things on his handheld before responding.
"It's a device used to measure the strength of your punches and kicks." He looked up and then nodded. "We'll start with punches."
She glanced furtively back at Elmer before shuffling awkwardly towards the target.
The Professor caught on to her reluctance and smiled reassuringly. "It's fine. I told him while you were getting dress and, though hesitant, he has promised not to tell. At least we won't have to wait long."
Still unsure, but trusting her father's judgment, she took a step forward and stood directly in front of the target. Taking a breath, she pulled her arm back and threw a punch at the white circle, envisioning the smirking face a certain individual. There was a moment where she let her fist stay on the dot until the Professor's tablet computer beeped.
She relaxed her stance, turning to see the Professor looking over her result. He nodded to himself and, tapping something on the screen, he gestured for her to again attack the target. She obediently did, throwing a sharp kick to the center. There was an immediate beep this time and, upon returning to her father's side, noted that under the pink name ("BLOSSOM") there were two numbers, one of which was higher than all of the others.
"W-Well then…" He looked stunned and he let himself stare at his pink-eyed daughter in surprise. "S-Shall we move on?"
Smiling, Blossom nodded.
For the next few minutes, the Professor ran all kinds of tests on her powers. Flying, running, dodging, and then even their energy attacks, like eyebeams and fist beams. He told her the tests showed him everyone's strengths and weaknesses. Such as Brick was the slowest of the Boys, but the most adept at flying. Bubbles was the fastest of the Girls, but weakest in punches, at least when not enraged, and had slightly less endurance. It was an efficient way to select who would do best for what mission and Blossom wondered who had come up with it.
It was maybe ten or so minutes later, as she stepped out of the training simulator, that the Professor finally announced that they were finished with the tests.
"Finally!" Buttercup cried, standing from where she had been seated. She floated over to Blossom, handing over the navy hoodie. "So…now what?"
Tapping away at his computer, the Professor looked up and smiled widely. It was safe to say the smile had a rather unhinged quality to it.
Buttercup instinctively moved in front of Blossom, despite the redhead's rolling eyes. As much as she trusted and loved her father, he just had that look. The look that usually preceded a harebrained plan, on par with DYNAMO and Powerprof.
"Now we have the conference," the Professor said gleefully.
He pretty much looked like a little kid about to receive a huge bowl of ice cream.
"Right…you never really divulged much on that," Buttercup responded, relaxing her protective stance and following him towards the door.
Blossom fixed her hood and followed them, Elmer a few steps in front of her. She didn't miss the slightly narrowed he threw her way either when he passed.
Gesturing to the lab as he typed a code into the keypad by the door, the Professor said, "If you notice, only Elmer and I are in the lab. I've asked Brick to collect everyone in the cafeteria so I can announce that Blossom's back."
Butterflies instantly started dancing around Blossom's stomach at that and she rushed to the Professor's side. They were going to announce her presence to everyone? She had thought they would ease into it, start with the officers and then the civilians. A thought gave her abrupt pause.
Brick wouldn't attack her with an audience, would he? For some reason, she didn't think the thought had actually originated from herself, but she wasn't sure whose mind had come up with it.
Gulping dryly, the pink puff reached out and grabbed Buttercup's hand in a death grip. She was not used to feeling nervous. She was the Powerpuff Leader. Nervousness led to an inability to perform heroic deeds well. However, the thought of telling everyone in the Resistance that she was back and where she had been positively frightened her. Everyone had thought she was dead. Buttercup had, the Professor had, even Ms. Keane had. But learn that she had actually been held by the Narcassians and that she didn't remember anything? If the way Boomer's reaction to her proved anything, it was that Brick would be less than happy to see her.
Buttercup squeezed her hand in reassurance as they walked down the hall. Blossom was so engrossed in her thoughts that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. Despite the sensation of walking, for all her anxiety cared she might as well have been standing still. The panic in her chest wouldn't go away and she swallowed thickly, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. Her breaths were too shallow to really succeed in that, no matter how deep she tried to breathe.
As much as she wanted to be a part of the Resistance, she was afraid of their reaction to seeing her. Most would be suspicious, she was certain of that. Both Elmer and Boomer had proven that, the scientist still eyeing her even now. The rebels had been excited because Buttercup had been excited. Ms. Keane and the Professor didn't count for much. They were both like parents to her; they would always be excited to her, no matter what.
The rest, though? A grab bag leaning heavily towards doubt.
Oh, what would Bubbles think?
Blossom didn't notice they had stopped until she felt Buttercup practically crushing her fingers. Wincing, she wrenched her hand from her sister's grip and let her eyes rise from the ground. The sight of the Professor talking with Bubbles, on whose face was a rather displeased look, greeted her. That would explain the waves of anger coming off Buttercup.
A pang of longing welled in her chest and Blossom wrapped her arms around herself tightly, trying to keep the emotion from reaching Bubbles. The pink puff could just feel a sort of subdued feeling from said blonde, but it was so slight, so suppressed, that it was almost as if it wasn't there. She wondered how her youngest sister would react to finding out that she was back.
She hoped that she would trust her.
She hoped that Brick hadn't had too much influence on her.
"Well, everyone's assembled, so whenever you're ready," Bubbles was saying before she walked through the door behind her. She didn't even glance at who was with the Professor.
If her heart was beating fast now, Blossom was sure it was nearly going twice that speed when the Professor said, "Ready? Let's go."
"I can't do this!"
The panicked thought flew at Buttercup and the green puff blinked rapidly, wincing in pain. She glanced at the woman beside her as the thought registered. Throwing an arm around Blossom's shoulders, the raven-haired woman drew her sister closer to her.
"Yes, you can," she hissed into her ear, rubbing the skin above her left eye. "That hurt you know."
"Sorry," Blossom said, smiling at bit at the emotions Buttercup sent her way.
Despite the fear she felt, warm waves of confidence came from her sister and that made it easier to handle. She wasn't going to be alone when she did this. The Professor and her sister were with her. With that thought in her mind, she walked confidently into the cafeteria. Looking around, she was somewhat startled to see so many people crowded in there. The thirty-something people that encompassed the rebels had seemed a lot to her, but there had to be at least a hundred people, if not more, packed together there.
Still looking around, Blossom could see the rebels huddled close to a raised platform on one wall. The stage was maybe three feet off the ground and made of painted wood and white titles. Next to said platform, she found her other sister sitting next to Boomer and a man who looked oddly familiar…
As they neared, she realized with a jolt just who exactly the man was. She knew that Boomer was good-looking. That was a given. She would also admit that she figured the other two would be just as handsome. Of course, she had also figured that seeing her counterpart after so long wouldn't affect her.
Apparently, she was wrong.
His hair was long, pulled back into a neat low ponytail. It was still a shade or so darker than hers, closer to auburn than her more gingery locks, and looked well-groomed, completely different from when they were younger and it had been the epitome of a rat's nest. He wore a uniform similar in design to Bubbles', but obviously masculine and a deep burgundy color. He was sitting with his legs crossed, listening with a bored expression to whatever Butch was telling him. (It was obviously Butch talking to him. Blossom noted the forest green uniform and the physical similarities to the woman next to her.) Despite seeing him for most of her childhood, the man in front of her made her breath catch and those butterflies fly faster.
Blossom hated Brick even more for that.
Her cheeks were warm as she and her entourage walked past the table of Resistance head officers. She noticed Bubbles narrow her eyes at Buttercup and Butch throw said green puff a suggestive grin before returning to his conversation. Gulping, she let her eyes drift to the red ruff and felt her heart freeze. He was staring straight at her and, adjusting her hood, Blossom moved so that Buttercup was mostly between them. Her heartbeat had escalated again and she wondered if he could hear it. (Of course, as he did have super hearing, she pretty much assumed that he could.)
Buttercup bumped their elbows together. Another wave of confidence and reassurance filled their bond.
"Well, thank you for all gathering here!" the Professor said as the two sisters positioned themselves behind him. Licking his lips, the dark-haired man cleared his throat. "I know you're all wondering why I called you here and, well, it has something to do with Blos—"
"Let me guess," a whiny voice said, interrupting him, and Blossom frowned as a woman with a high frizzy ponytail stood up. "The rebels finally found her body and that's why they're here."
Glaring darkly at the woman, Buttercup snarled angrily, "She is not dead, Princess!"
Princess Morbucks rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and raising a penciled eyebrow. Her thin, pale face was dusted with freckles, like Blossom remembered, and her dark auburn hair was as curly and frizzy as ever. Even her voice hadn't changed much and the pink puff winced as the Resistance officer laughed incredulously.
"Then why are you here, Butterbrain?" she asked, a smug smirk on her face. "I mean, you did scream that you would never listen to anyone who wasn't Blossom."
She literally spat Blossom's name as if it was foul word and the redhead next to Buttercup frowned. Well, it looked like that relationship hadn't changed much. Somehow, she wasn't surprised Princess still hated her all these years later.
"If you would just listen—" Buttercup couldn't even finish her thought before Princess scoffed.
"Ha! A rebel telling me, a Resistance officer, what to do? Sorry, sweetheart. No dice." The young woman just smiled curtly at the green puff.
Buttercup's fists lit up in green energy and Blossom instantly grabbed the back of her sister's shirt, noticing Butch's muscles tense as he leaned forward in what could have been a casual gesture, but was anything but. Obviously, he too was preparing for the green-eyed woman to go flying at Princess. In fact, that familiar green aura had started vaguely flickering over Buttercup's form and Blossom tightened her grip. As much as Princess annoyed her, she was not about to allow her sister to beat the woman within an inch of her life.
"Princess."
The way his voice, so low yet so authoritative, cut through the risen voices was mind-boggling to Blossom. Years ago, he would have pummeled them for being so noisy, but now, Brick merely glanced at Princess with those blood red eyes of his before focusing on Buttercup.
Both women visibly stiffened. Princess clicked her tongue and turned her nose up. The aura dissipated from around Buttercup, even as she growled.
When he was sure that neither woman was going to speak, he then asked, "What is it you needed to report about Pinky, Professor?"
"Oh, well." The Professor scratched his head, turning to Buttercup.
Crossing her arms, the green puff just huffed and frowned sullenly at the wall.
At this response, her father finally turned to the last person on the stage. He knew that she was scared, even though the young woman would never admit that. That was a weakness, after all, and Blossom would never show weakness in front of so many. A reassuring look was on his features now, instead of that giddy one he had before.
This put her at ease.
Gripping the hood, she shook her head and stepped around her sister. She lifted her head high and pulled back her hood.
The room silenced.
"I'm not surprised to see you haven't changed at all, Princess," she said and smiled coldly at the dark-eyed woman. "By the way, I'm alive. I always have been."