Storm
Trivia: My writing style changes halfway through because this was partly written before I had that horrendous hiatus.
Update (2/1/2020): Wow, it's been almost six years since I last touched Storm. I've recently reread MTH so I've awakened some PPG feelings. As such, I'll be moving Storm over to my AO3 (kiebs) as well, so look forward to updated chapters as I go through and fix up my old writing!
Update (3/21/2020): Fixed grammar, writing style, some errors. Added some more diction and background, connecting to previous chapters. And that officially brings Storm up to date! Starting next week, begins brand new chapters! Enjoy!
Chapter 8: Secret Meetings
One of the few things that Blossom was allowed to do at the Resistance was use the library as much as she wanted. Said room was huge, as big as the cafeteria at least, though she was certain that it could possibly be larger. There were three floors, the third and second of which were both open to the ground floor at one end. She spent most of her days there, reading book after book. After all, there wasn't much else to do when she was banned from just about everything, but she did relish that she could rectify her lack of schooling. Whatever information and knowledge her fuzzy memories told her she had was useless when she couldn't even remember it.
When she wasn't reading, or at least taking a break to rest her eyes, she would sometimes watch the small class of children that Ms. Keane taught on the ground floor. There weren't many, barely twenty, as the Townsville branch wasn't an ideal place to raise children. Most families with young children moved to areas with less alien activity, or so she had heard. Honestly, Blossom couldn't blame them for moving. Being so close to the heart of the Narcassian empire was less-than-ideal for a growing family.
The pink puff currently sat curled up on a ridiculously uncomfortable couch on the second floor, staring at the pages of Sun Tzu's The Art of War without truly seeing them. It wasn't that it was boring to her; in fact, she found it very interesting and highly educational. However, every time she tried to focus, her mind always went back to what had happened over the past month. She still couldn't believe at times that it had been a month since she first came to the Resistance.
Many things had happened over the course of those four weeks.
The first and foremost experience of hers from those weeks was the secret training sessions she had with Butch. It was almost ridiculous how exhilarated she felt whenever she thought back to them. She had never realized how satisfying it felt to fight without the use of plans and just on instinct. She had told herself that she wanted to work on, and out, the piles of strategies in her mind, but the moment she stepped into the simulator with the green ruff, everything she planned went out the window. His fighting style was almost entirely instinct and that counteracted Blossom's telepathy. Clear, decisive thoughts were easy to read, but the quick flashes of emotion and thought from Butch were too confusing for her.
Therefore, she herself had to rely on instinct and plain old deduction.
From her training sessions, and from memories of past battles between Butch and Buttercup, Blossom knew that Butch relied heavily on his sheer physical strength to win. However, she did notice as she fought him that at certain intervals he used his speed to his advantage. He was a muscle-brained lout, yes, but he was at least a somewhat smart muscle-brained lout. If he had used only his strength to fight her, she would have been severely disappointed and their training wouldn't have been as fun. However, as he hadn't and had actually utilized his ridiculous speed that she had learned was his secondary special ability, their sessions had been rather enjoyable for her.
Dare she say it, but she had fun training with Butch. After each training session, they spent a good ten minutes to almost additional hour just talking. There wasn't much she could contribute, her memories still fuzzy and those that she did remember making her stiffen. Butch, however, turned out to be a wonderful storyteller, even if those stories verged on vulgar. Nevertheless, she still found herself laughing at him and his antics and it had become hard not to smile at him when she passed him in the hallway during the day. Not that he had any issue sending her grins and winks that left whoever he was with baffled, but she was trying to keep it a secret that they had become…maybe friends?
Of course, the secret meetings hadn't been all that had happened. In those four weeks, Blossom was reacquainted with a couple of old friends, namely Robin Snyder and Hanout Anoush. Robin was a nurse in the infirmary and was specially trained to attend all injuries and illnesses of the puffs and ruffs. Hanout, in the meanwhile, was an intermediate officer in the Resistance, a junior sergeant, just a rank under Butch, and was one of the few people with direct influence from Brick who believed in her. The first time she had seen the two, she barely recognized them until Robin squealed her name and hugged her.
Robin's reaction to seeing her made the conflicted emotions inside her even more tangled. On one hand, she liked the fact that they did trust her despite the aliens holding her prisoner. On the other hand, she felt a little disappointed that they weren't being more cautious. That was why she agreed with the idea of what Brick was doing. She herself didn't know what she was capable of anymore, so they should treat her with some more caution than usual. Nevertheless, she still believed he was taking it a little too far at the same time.
Yes, she knew that she remembered nothing and still had that underlying fear of Aterex, but at the same time, she knew her power had grown greatly and that there was a reason why she had been taken. Those bloody memories, with their faded and dark depths, that had arisen during her fight with Emmons and her training sessions attested to that theory. They had wanted her for something, they had trained her for something, and she…she couldn't remember what.
Sighing, Blossom leaned her head back, her book lying forgotten on her chest. That just brought another thought to her mind, one that she had been trying to ignore for a few days now.
It amazed her that she could get away with her secret training for so long. The Resistance was large, that was obvious, but it wasn't so large that someone wouldn't notice two people sneaking out and using the training simulator after long. It worried her that she and Butch were able to get away with it for so long without the slightest suspicion from Brick. There was no suspicious glance whenever Butch would greet her or interact with her in the hallways. There was no subtle hint in the way he talked to Butch or in the way that he nonchalantly mentioned her when she was standing feet from him.
Brick was many things, but stupid was not one of them.
With knowing that, she was unbelievably worried about whether or not the red ruff knew about the training sessions. She would push the thought away and focus on something else, but her mind would go back to those sessions and, inevitably, the thought of if Brick knew. Moreover, despite the fear she felt, she wondered what Brick would do if he did know. She played with her bangs as she thought over that. He would be angry, so very angry, and suddenly she was shivering. The way those red eyes glowed in her mind was frightening and yet...oddly enticing.
It would be a nice change from the blank stares he had been giving her, at the very least.
She let out a groan as someone called out, "There you are!"
Blossom sat up, her book falling to her lap as Robin hurried over to her. Smiling a bit, she said, "Oh, hello, Robin. What can I do for you?"
The brunette rolled her eyes, blowing some stray hairs from her face. She placed her hands on her hips and leaned a little forward.
Robin and she had been meeting up almost every day over the past month. There was much to catch up on, even if Blossom couldn't contribute much without her hands shaking and red memories spilling into her psyche. Robin was more than happy to fill the conversation for her, carefully redirecting it when it became clear that it was becoming too much for Blossom.
Robin had always been good at taking care of her and her sisters in that way. She was their best friend, after all, even if Blossom had never asked if that title remained now.
"Uh, we're supposed to be going to see your dad?" At Blossom's furrowed brows, the nurse snorted. "The Professor said he could meet you today?"
"I…right, right." The redhead ran a hand through her hair, upsetting the bow tied in back. "I forgot."
Robin tilted her head, considering her friend. "Mm. You've been quite…absent-minded lately. Very unlike the Blossom that I knew."
"I've…had a lot on my mind lately," the pink puff responded, sighing softly. She gave the nurse a smile though, trying to dispel the murky thoughts that had entered Robin's mind. "But it's fine. It's mostly just me forcing myself to remember."
Not entirely convinced, Robin narrowed her eyes at Blossom. The murky thoughts grew sharper with her suspicion and worry. She just tried smiling back, hoping to appease her.
"If you say so… But on that note!" Robin frowned as the redhead stood, leering in a motherly way. "Forcing yourself to remember will bring you nothing, but headaches! You can't force amnesia to go away. Sometimes it doesn't for a long time. You just have to let the memories return over time."
"I know that." Her voice came out sharp, even to her own ears, and Blossom immediately gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I know all that. It still doesn't stop me from trying to forcefully remember them." A downhearted look punctuated her statement before the redhead shook her head. "Anyway, shall we head to see the Professor now?"
"Fine, fine," Robin said airily, still frowning at her friend. She bumped Blossom's shoulder with her own. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to…I'm here."
At Robin's encouraging smile, the pink-eyed woman felt that bubbly feeling of friendship. She had sorely missed Robin, had sorely missed her warm smiles and bright outlook. Even the apocalypse hadn't seemed to change that, or, at least, she didn't let the apocalypse tame her.
She had a feeling that she didn't have ask about the best friend thing. Robin would never let that come between them.
She returned her friend's smile, softly murmuring, "Thank you."
The two women set out then, descending the stairs to the first floor. They walked in a comfortable silence, passing by the gathered children for Ms. Keane's class. None of the children acknowledged their presence, save a little girl with pigtails and two little boys, one of which openly glared at Blossom. The little girl, however, gave said puff a large grin before she returned to her work. A small smile formed on the young woman's face from that.
She and Robin passed through the doors to the library and began their journey through the halls. The halls were still confusing as ever and the pink puff was thankful for her exploration of them during her four weeks there to help her navigate them. It didn't take the two women long to get to their destination, despite the numerous amount of times they were stopped.
Once had been by Buttercup, asking what Blossom was up to before Bubbles cuffed her in the ear and told her to hurry up. Yelping, her green sister had shot a fiery glare at the blue puff before grumbling to Blossom that she would see her later. It was very amusing to see the green puff grumble about the training that she needed despite how much she wanted to join the Resistance.
Another time had been by two coworkers of Robin's, both of whom had made it blatantly obvious that they highly distrusted Blossom. They hadn't said it, but their actions were like glaring flares. The looks of undisguised fear and doubt both irritated and saddened the redhead. While she respected their fear, at the same time, the overprotective way they acted about Robin annoyed her. The blue-eyed woman trusted her despite their misgivings (and her own, Blossom noted) and they should respect that, not treat Robin like a child. It had taken several minutes of nonsensical medical jargon for Blossom to lose her patience and, after a soft huff of indignation from the pink puff, Robin had told her coworkers that if they needed help to talk to one of the other nurses.
A few minutes later, the two friends were now standing outside the Professor's lab. Humming to herself, Robin typed in the pass code and, after the door hissed open, walked inside with her friend.
The lab looked the same as it had when Blossom had first seen it, except now there were more people bustling around and there was a room with dark, blood red thoughts. She shivered involuntarily, eyes instantly fixating on said door. A thermometer on the door read somewhere below freezing, but the cold did not deter the dark thoughts. Emmons was in there and, despite the strength of the thoughts, she was sure he was dying. She wasn't sure how she knew this, but somehow she was certain that the Narcassian blood he had ingested was slowly corroding him, eating away at both his body and his mind.
The sound of the Professor's voice pulled her away from this revelation. Tearing her gaze from the door, she settled it on her father as he hurried over to them. There was a large grin on his face that she couldn't help returning. He just looked so happy for whatever reason.
His mere presence also eased the dark thoughts swirling around her mind.
"Hi, Professor," she greeted warmly.
He continued to smile as he answered, "I'm sorry it took me so long to get some time for us to talk, but I've just been so busy with analyzing the condition of Emmons." His face took on a brooding look as he showed them into a back room, which looked very much like a small lounge. "It's quite…well, it's quite fascinating. His cell and DNA structure have mutated somehow. Almost like…like X-Men to sound like a geek."
"You are a geek, Prof," Robin said good-naturedly.
He continued, as if he didn't hear her, "But it's not like a mutation caused by radiation. There's no cell damage at all! It's almost as if his body naturally mutated, but that mutation is now killing him."
A shiver passed through Blossom at that and she couldn't help glancing over her shoulder. She knew Emmons was dying. Somehow, though, it was much worse when the Professor confirmed that fact. Shaking her head, she took a seat at the small round table and murmured a thank you as the Professor set down a mug of tea in front of her.
"It's because he ingested the blood," she said after the Professor and Robin sat down. Both looked at her with identical shocked looks that she didn't see because she had covered her eyes. "I…when he attacked me, I slipped into his mind and saw the memory of what happened to him." Uncovering her eyes, she clasped her hands together and leaned her mouth against them thoughtfully. "A Narcassian forced him to drink its blood."
Robin's face contorted in a disgusted look as the Professor leaned forward eagerly.
"Do you remember something, Blossom?" he asked, eyes widening. "Something from…when you were with the aliens?"
Brows furrowing, the redhead didn't respond right away. She had remembered a lot in the weeks since she had been found. In fact, she had remembered something about the blood of the Narcassians, but it was still fuzzy. She knew that it didn't always have the same effect that had occurred with Emmons, but if she focused hard enough, she could just remember that those other times the blood hadn't been in its purest form. If she was remembering correctly, somehow the Narcassians turned the blood into the drug that had been used to control her.
"The blood…it only has this effect if it's in its purest state," she finally said, eyes focused on a small brownish smudge on the table. Red flickered in her mind, fuzzy pill-like shapes dancing behind her eyes. "It…was an ingredient in the drug used to keep me controlled."
There was silence before the both of them exploded. Robin was near hysterics, her voice an octave or so higher than it had been a moment ago. She was babbling on about something or other, something about side effects and unknown entities in the bloodstream, but even Blossom couldn't make it out with the Professor's angry ranting about barbaric aliens and black demons and "If I had military experience, I'd give those aliens what for!" The pink puff watched them for a moment, both amused and shocked at their reaction, before holding up her hands to calm them down.
"I'm fine," she reasoned, letting a small grin form on her face as she tugged Robin and the Professor back into their seats. "I metabolized the drug much faster than others. There were no side-effects either."
"Even still!" Robin cried, grabbing Blossom's hands. "Just the fact that the drug was made out of their blood freaks me out! I mean, look how it affected Emmons!"
"I have to agree with Robin, Blossom," the Professor added, fixing his tie. He wrung the silken material between his fingers as he looked at his daughter. "…it's a scary thought, even with the knowledge that the blood was only an ingredient and that what happened to Emmons was because of the blood being in its purest form. It's…frightening imagining what could have happened to you along with all that did happen!"
Blossom felt a retort form on her tongue, but she let it die at the sight of the Professor's face. It must have been extremely hard on him not knowing what had happened to his eldest daughter. To him, who had been the only parental figure (save Ms. Keane) in the Girls' lives, it must have been a living hell, being without one of his precious babies. After all, Bubbles hadn't left his side and, though Buttercup wasn't immediately near him, she was still close enough that he could visit her.
But Blossom? Blossom had been in a place that no one would willingly follow her.
"All right," she sighed, slumping a little. "Moving on from that…Professor, I've wanted to ask you about our special abilities."
She would rather get off this topic before the memories became worse. She could hear whispers in her ears about her metabolism, about needing a stronger dose, stronger blood, and her stomach was knotting. A sinking suspicion told her just whose blood might have been used to make the drug that controlled her.
The Professor carefully sipped his tea to collect himself. His face still twisted a little, but after a couple sips, he let out a sigh. Setting down his cup, he raised a questioning eyebrow.
He folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Primary or secondary?"
"Secondary," Blossom answered after a moment of deliberation.
She had long since accepted the random way in which their primary special abilities had formed. One could argue that Bubbles developing abilities attributed to her voice was because of her open personality and willingness to communicate or that Blossom's ice breath was from her keeping her cool during battle. In comparison, though, what did electrokinesis say about Boomer? Or a force field about Butch? Not to mention Buttercup and Brick, both of whom had developed their special abilities much later than the rest of them.
There was no rhyme or reason. Therefore, she would rather focus on the secondary abilities to see if they too were random.
"Hmm. I see," the Professor said as he leaned back in his chair. "I take it you want to know why, or rather, how, they developed. Well, I've come up with a theory about that, actually. I think some of you developed the powers through a desire to be something. Ah, take Buttercup and Butch for example. Butch's secondary ability is extreme speed, yes? He once told me that he wanted to be the fastest when he was little…that he hated losing to Boomer in that front. And now, what does he have?"
"Extreme speed," Blossom murmured and her father nodded.
"Precisely. And Buttercup has always wanted to be the strongest and she developed what we have dubbed her beast mode," he continued. "Thus making her the strongest when said mode is activated. On the other hand, I think some of you developed abilities not from the desire to be something, but simply as an amplification to the abilities that you already had. Take Bubbles, for example. She's always had a great prowess with her voice, such as her sonic scream and her ability with languages. Therefore, because she had no desire for anything that could affect her physically, she simply developed powers that were similar to those she already had. Her hypnosis voice and voice mimicry.
"Boomer, however, is like Butch and Buttercup." The Professor rubbed his chin as he raised his eyes to the ceiling. "He said he always wanted to be normal and to blend in…thus he developed invisibility and illusionary powers that expand no more than his own body. As for you and Brick… I believe Brick developed the immunity to preternatural mind control because, and this is just a hypothesis, but because he has such a strong will. He certainly doesn't like to be controlled. I can tell you that. Your telepathy, I would assume, probably developed because you've always had that uncanny knack to read and analyze people."
"Hmm…that makes sense," Blossom murmured, pressing her right index knuckle to her lips. She hadn't realized that about Brick, though, and filed the information away in her mind. Something was ringing about that, something deep inside those red memories, but she didn't want to understand just then. She needed to be present. "That certainly does explain our secondary abilities. However…it doesn't explain the empathy link I share with Bubbles and Buttercup. And why only the three of us have that when the Boys don't."
The Professor frowned, pressing a hand to his mouth.
"I…am not entirely sure about that," he confessed, his voice slightly muffled. "What I've come to believe is that the link was formed because of the distance between you three."
"Huh?" Robin looked utterly confused as Blossom asked seriously, "What do you mean?"
"Ah…what I'm trying to say is that the three of you slightly depended on the emotions of each other when you fought. If you remember correctly, whenever all three of you shared an emotion, your power was nearly tripled, almost quadrupled, in strength," the Professor explained, picking up his teacup again. He took a sip and blinked, looking down at the cup. He hadn't realized he had finished it. Clearing his throat, he placed the cup down and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "These are all hypotheses, of course, and guessing, but that's all I can say."
His eldest daughter just nodded as she turned everything over in her mind. It certainly made sense, even if it was a hypothesis. Folding her hands, she pressed her entangled fingers to her mouth again as she leaned forward slightly. The way she had developed her telepathy, the way that empathy link tugged ever so slightly on her psyche. She had always been good at analyzing things, but sometimes she had had issues with people. Maybe there had been a part of desire there as well, then, to be able to read people better.
Her glazed pink eyes flickered up to her father a moment, unintentionally reading the organized, scientific thoughts going through his mind. Most of them were clipped as if he was quickly going over plans of action. And, for all she knew, he could be. A sudden influx of urgency from outside the room shattered it, though.
The door to the lounge opened and Elmer rushed in panting, hastily pushing up his glasses. At the sight of Elmer's face, both the Professor and Blossom stood, their chairs clattering as they did. The Professor moved quickly around the table and towards the young man, who gasped to bring oxygen to his lungs. The elder man placed a hand on his shoulder and Elmer looked up, still gasping like a fish.
"They…need you…Em…mons…life…help…!" he panted, fumbling in his pocket for his inhaler.
The Professor stared at Elmer with wide eyes for the briefest of moments before running towards the door. Just as he reached it, he turned, looking back at the panicked faces of Blossom and Robin. His dark eyes met his daughter's and the pink puff frowned before nodding. Flashing them a weary grin, he rushed through the door.
Once the Professor left, Robin looked at Blossom, who was standing stock-still and staring at the door. Though she didn't have any kind of special ability, the nurse knew that her friend was listening, or trying to listen, to what was going on in the other room. She knew her well enough to know that the redhead was blaming herself. It was one of the things she had noticed about Blossom in their years as friends, at least before she was taken.
The Powerpuff Leader piled all the responsibility onto herself and if something went wrong, it was because of her. Not because of a misstep from her sisters or some unknowable factor, but because she hadn't been able to account for it. So, it must be her fault. It had been Robin's job to mediate this behavior when they were younger, to keep the pink puff grounded when she even dismissed her sisters telling her it was fine.
Would Blossom even accept such words now?
Watching her back, Robin felt her heart go out to her friend. Even though she had no reason to hold any responsibility, even though she didn't have the opportunity to do so, Blossom still piled it onto her shoulders. She could see that plain as day. Habits were hard to break.
Standing with a sigh, she gently touched her friend's shoulder. Her touch brought the pink-eyed puff's attention to her and those eyes looked haunted. Her heart clenched painfully.
"There's nothing you can do," Robin murmured, squeezing her shoulder. "And all of this? It is not your fault. What happened to Emmons is not your fault."
Blossom looked torn and turned away from her friend. While she had told them about the blood, she hadn't told them about what the alien had told him to do. It still scared her how far they were willing to go to get her. How many people would they use? How many innocent lives would be taken just for them to attempt to get to her? Her chest burned at the thought. If the aliens were that desperate, no one was safe.
At least, no one who wasn't in the protective confines of the Resistance.
"…but what if it is?" she asked softly, so softly that Robin had to lean in close. "What if I am at fault?"
Lips pressed firmly in a line at that, her friend didn't answer and instead turned an accusing leer to Elmer who was still in the room. The young man squeaked and shuffled out hurriedly. The nurse watched him with that same accusing look, but the moment he was out of the room, she was frowning thoughtfully.
She didn't have to think long, however. For her, the answer was easy.
"It doesn't matter," she finally said, her voice firm. Blossom was about to argue, but Robin turned to her with an expression that brought her up short. "It doesn't matter. Because you've been through hell and back." Not waiting for her friend's response, she pulled her from the room. "Let's go before Emmons goes into the death throws and things get bad. And before Brick arrives."
Blossom let Robin lead her from the room. However, as they left, passing the frantic scientists and the doctors that had been called in, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder at the chaos. Guilt built in her chest, but she could do nothing besides let Robin lead her away from it all. There was nothing she could do.
They were just leaving when the first of Emmons' screams echoed through the lab.
It had been the middle of hand-to-hand combat training when Bubbles had been called away. The blonde-haired woman had had Buttercup in a submission hold before her communicator went off. She barely released her growling older sister before she was heading out of the door.
That left Buttercup frozen in a push-up position as she watched Bubbles' progress across the room and out of the door. It was as if she had forgotten all about what she was doing. No one else, besides Brick and his brothers, could train Buttercup. Since there were only the four of them as officers, that limited the amount of people who could handle her. However, it was pretty much accepted that Butch was terrible at teaching and Brick was far too busy, leaving the two blonds.
Bubbles had grudgingly volunteered, mostly because of pent up anger at the raven-haired woman. Buttercup at least suspected that was the case, especially if she considered the dull flares of emotion coming from the blue puff when they trained. The aggressive way she had been teaching her also gave that away.
And she had just left.
Buttercup couldn't be trained by anyone without super powers, so, seeing as her senior officer and personal trainer had just flown the coop, the green puff hurried after her. She spared the other recruits a vicious grin and a wink for the disgruntled faces of Mitch and Harry, who had also joined when she told them that she was, before disappearing through the door. However, once she was through, there was nothing on the other side, save a few people heading in random directions. She still wasn't sure about the layout of things in the Resistance, but she at least knew where the essential places were: the cafeteria, her apartment, the training room, the Professor's lab, and the door out.
Choosing the most logical way (read: taking a guess), the green puff flew hurriedly down it before any of the other officers could stop her escape. It had been her choice to join, but she still felt irritable at having to listen to them. At least it was better than six years ago, but she still didn't like it.
It was much more natural to listen to Blossom, but even the redhead had urged her to comply with the orders…even Brick's. That pissed her off.
Brick had almost killed Blossom on numerous occasions; the green puff could vividly see the multitude of cuts, bruises, fractures, and breaks that had littered the pink puff's body. She had always had an uncanny memory about their battles; while for Blossom and Bubbles each one melted into another, for her each battle was set apart by the wounds they received. The battles with no wounds were just a blur of color. It was because of those memories that she was angry at Blossom's compliance to Brick's wants.
Sure, she and Bubbles had received injuries from Butch and Boomer, but it was different. They had been forced to work together because of the damn aliens. Brick hadn't wanted to work with them and Buttercup hadn't wanted to work with him. She especially didn't want to listen to him.
With her emotions growing into a tizzy, she nearly missed Boomer heading in the direction of the Professor's lab at an accelerated pace. Curious, and hoping that he knew where Bubbles had gone, she followed and flew next to him as he ran.
"Aren't you supposed to be training?" Boomer asked without looking, his hair blown away from his face from his speed. He seemed to be keeping it in check, despite being the fastest of them all. At least when Butch wasn't using his extreme speed.
"Lieutenant Utonium ran off in the middle of it," she responded, crossing her arms as she looked at him. "What's the rush?"
He frowned. "Something's up with Emmons."
At the name, her sneering smile slipped. Her body instantly became tense, preparing itself for a fight she didn't even know was coming. She gritted her teeth. If something was up with Emmons, the soldier whom Blossom had iced, it was rational to assume that whatever was going to happen was going to bite the pink puff in the posterior.
She was not going to let anything bad happen to her leader.
"Is he finally going to bite it?" she asked, eyes focusing on their destination as they rounded a corner.
The lab was within eyesight and Boomer looked ever graver than before. "He probably already did."
When the two entered the lab, the utter chaos Robin and Blossom had left was just winding down. Bubbles, Brick, and Butch stood outside the door to the room in which Emmons had been stored. Steam rolled from the doorway and Buttercup had to remind herself that they had to keep him at a low temperature so that his body didn't start rapidly breaking down. No one knew what had caused the breakdown or the mutations, though Blossom had once murmured to Buttercup it had to do with blood, but the green puff didn't understand what that had to do with anything. Blood was just blood, wasn't it? Albeit, there were diseases transferred by blood, but that didn't have anything to do with Emmons…right?
Floating behind Boomer, the green puff managed a cold smile at Bubbles' furious look, but she didn't spare her ex-sister anything more than that. She was more focused on finding her father. From Robin, whom she was overjoyed to be reacquainted with, she had learned that the Professor had spent many a sleepless night pondering over Emmons and had ended up in the infirmary more frequently than usual over the past month, either because of his insomnia or because of some test of some sort. He had become very attached to the case, but no one knew if it was because of the strangeness of it or because Blossom was involved in it.
Either way, it had become his pet case.
The Professor emerged from the steaming room, his face looking hollow and gray. His lips were pressed in a tight line and he just stared at the ground for a moment before giving any attention to the five waiting superpowered people. Even then, though, he didn't say anything and just shook his head. There were no words needed to express what had happened. Emmons was dead…and from the exhausted look on the Professor's face, it hadn't been a pretty end.
Buttercup floated over to her father's side and wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezing reassuringly. Because she knew that despite Emmons' death, no matter how gruesome or terrible, the Professor was just as, if not more so, worried about how Blossom was going to be dragged into it.
After all, Blossom had been the one to freeze him. Blossom was the one who had fought him. Blossom was the one who Emmons had attacked. It all went back to her and everyone had mixed emotions about the once beloved Powerpuff leader.
Particularly a paranoid Resistance general.
"So he's dead?" Butch, of course, was the one to break the silence and he let out a heavy breath. "Finally. It's been, what? A month or something since he was brought in as an Emmonsicle?"
"Can you be anymore insensitive?" Buttercup remarked, making a face as she pulled away from the Professor's one-armed hug.
"What? I'm just stating what we were all thinking," her counterpart said with his hands out stretched. "I mean, really, we were all waiting for Emmons to kick it."
"You have the sensitivity of a rock, you know that?"
"What did you find, Professor?" Brick asked before Butch could respond. His expression and voice were flat despite a very slight tightness to his posture.
The Professor shook his head, rubbing his forehead. "His mutation was biological, like he just started spontaneously mutating. Almost every day, when we rose the temperature enough for him to function, he always said he needed to kill someone." His mouth twisted and Buttercup cut her glaring contest with Butch to turn worriedly to her father. "He…He always said he needed to kill Blossom."
"Kill her? Why?" Bubbles asked, looking less angry and more confused now that she focused on their father.
"I don't know," he murmured softly, running his hands through his hair.
For a moment, Brick let the scientist fuss angrily with his hair before asking, "And what of the mutation?"
This question caused the older man to pause and look up almost uncomprehendingly at the red-eyed general. Then he bit his lip and sighed, shoulders slumping.
"The mutation, as I mentioned before, is biological, almost natural in occurrence. No cell or tissue damage happened, he just started mutating." Here the Professor paused, picking his next words carefully. "I…had a meeting earlier with…with Blossom. And I mentioned some of what happened to Emmons with her."
Brick's face was unreadable, but there was a certain dark cast to it and his eyebrows were more furrowed. The other four had various stages of shock on their faces, but Butch looked otherwise unperturbed and Buttercup had a slightly happy tinge to her gaping mouth. The Professor used to talk to Blossom all the time about his experiments and inventions, something that Blossom had always enjoyed, so Buttercup was more than happy to hear that their father was still continuing that.
However, the Professor only looked at Brick, who seemed to be fighting some kind of internal battle. Whatever the outcome of that battle within him, the red ruff sighed almost violently, as if accepting the fact that the Professor couldn't keep anything from his daughters when they outright asked.
"And…what did she say?" he finally asked, his voice almost painful in its flatness.
Wincing, the Professor said, "She said she looked into his mind and found that a Narcassian made him drink its blood."
"Ewww."
Both Bubbles and Buttercup cringed at that, making similar disgusted faces. Even Boomer looked less than thrilled at the knowledge, his lip curling with his own disgust. No matter how used to seeing blood they were, the action of ingesting it was just a step too far…especially ingesting Narcassian blood.
"What is the significance of ingesting an alien's blood aside from this mutation?" Brick inquired, but his eyebrows were furrowed in thought. He was probably puzzling through the significance himself, but waited for the Professor's two cents anyway. He wanted to know if the conclusion he drew was the same as the older man's opinion.
"Apparently Narcassian blood as a mind controlling effect that is a natural attribute to it," the Professor explained, rubbing his mouth. "Again, taking from what Blossom has told me, the mutation effect that occurred in Emmons only occurs when the blood is in its purest state. The blood was apparently an ingredient in the drug the Narcassians used to keep Blossom under their control."
For a moment, there was total silence, as the five superhumans looked him, trying to find any hint of jest or trickery in his face.
When it was clear that he was deadly serious, Butch breathed out, "Jesus", while Bubbles tried to tame her trembling bottom lip. Boomer and Brick were the only two who seemed unaffected, though Boomer's mouth was tight and his jaw was visibly taut. Buttercup, on the other hand, had her mouth agape in shock before it snapped shut and that all too familiar green fire slowly encased her. She bared her teeth in a snarl, but the Professor stared straight back at her, frowning.
Around her, the other four tensed as they waited for her to do something…anything. If the Professor hadn't been staring her down, Buttercup might have shot through the ceiling, through the rock layers over top of the Resistance, just to get to Aterex's black city. She would have let nothing stop her, would kill thousands and thousands, all to get vengeance for her sister. She didn't care how anyone would respond to that. She just wanted to see that filthy, putrid blood that those aliens dared make her sister ingest in the form of a drug. It would be wonderful and bloody and there would be carnage everywhere. Her monster purred as glowing green eyes stayed locked with fatherly blue ones.
"I'll kill them," she promised him, the aura flickering before she let go of her anger, of her blood thirst, of her pain. She recited a quick mantra, something that she had long since stopped doing and should probably pick up again. Her eyes stay glued to her father's. "I'm going to kill them all."
"You'll get your chance," the Professor responded, letting out a relieved breath, before looking at Brick. He was still waiting for a response from the young man.
In truth, Brick wasn't sure how to articulate his emotions. The blood-drug was disgusting, yes, and the blood's effects in its purest form were certainly terrifying, but he didn't want to think about them in correlation to his counterpart. He didn't want to think about what the drug made her do. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that the real reason why he didn't allow Pinky to join the Resistance was that he didn't want her near him. The mere thought of her sent his blood racing and boiling and made his muscles tense and battle ready.
Logically, Brick knew that his counterpart would never do anything against her moral code, would never do anything to harm her family or friends. He knew that, knew that her faking her amnesia was ridiculous, knew that all Buttercup's accusations were practically spot on. He hated her and knew that if they were together for more than needed without anyone around, he would…do something. Attack her, hurt her, do something that he would no doubt regret.
The knowledge that she had been controlled with a drug by the aliens didn't really faze him. It was logical. Pinky was too noble and, dammit, he hated that. He wanted her to have been tempted by the aliens, to not have been completely controlled by the drug. He wanted her not to be pure and innocent. That way he could have an excuse to continue keeping her out of the military. Just a little reason, just a tiny one, so he could prolong the distance between them.
"So Pinky was controlled with a blood drug," he finally said, keeping his face as neutral as possible. "Admittedly, this lifts some suspicion, but without exact knowledge, I will uphold the title of 'potential threat' until further notice."
He waited for a beat and wasn't disappointed when Buttercup whirled around with a vicious snarl. "What the fucking hell! The Prof basically just told you that Blossom had no control when she was with the Narcassians and you still refuse to let her join the Resistance!? What is this bullshit!?"
"We don't know to what extant the drug controlled her. Without the knowledge of how strong the drug was, we cannot know just how much control she had over her mind when she took it. For all we know, she might have had some semblance of control even under the influence. For now, she is still a possible threat," Brick explicated, lifting his chin a little.
The green puff bared her teeth at him.
"If it's any help, Blossom did tell me that she metabolized the drug faster than others," the Professor chimed in, placing a hand on Buttercup's shoulder. The dark-haired woman narrowed her eyes, but did not break eye contact with the red ruff. "She probably wasn't the only one under the influence of the blood drug."
"However, without actually meeting another person who was influenced, we can't just throw caution to the wind," Bubbles finally said, but the look on her face was anything but accusatory. She looked conflicted more than anything else and refused to look at either Buttercup or Brick. "For now…I agree with the General's continued caution."
The hiss from Buttercup was dissatisfied, but with the Professor holding her shoulder, she dared not do anything. As much as she wanted to hit Brick or her sister, she grudgingly accepted that, while they still didn't trust Blossom, they were accepting of the fact that the aliens had controlled her when she had been in their claws. It would have to be enough for now.
The raven-haired woman huffed and crossed her arms, but she didn't look outright hostile anymore. Now her facial expression showed more aggravation and she rolled her eyes.
"I should really get used to you guys being stubborn," she admitted, leering Brick, "but it still pisses me off."
"What? More than I do?" Butch cut in and his counterpart looked his way, rising an eyebrow.
"Oh, you've gotten tame over the years, Butchy boy. You need to step up your game."
The green ruff dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me!"
Both Buttercup and Boomer snorted at that and Butch got at least part of the response he wanted. It was pretty sucky that Emmons was dead, but an argument over Blossom wouldn't solve anything. That was also something the pink puff herself didn't need. She already had enough on her plate; Butch had been witness to a few of her memory episodes and he had had no idea what to do when they happened. He had grudgingly asked Robin about it, surprising the young woman, and she had told him there was really nothing that any of them could do. Blossom had to remember by herself.
He didn't want to admit that he was becoming kind of attached to her. It somewhat freaked him out, how easy it was being around her and how much he cared already. Maybe it was partly influenced by the Rebels and Buttercup, seeing how much they cared and loved Blossom despite everything. Their training was fun and it had been a long while since he had such exhilarating fights. Boomer and Brick didn't train with him anymore and simulations only went so far. With Blossom and her super brain, they were a challenge that he relished. He wasn't about to let anything happen to her.
For the moment, he would play the fool and get their siblings' minds off Emmons and her. It was better than getting all sappy and emotional.
As the green ruff joked with Buttercup, subtly edging his brothers, the two puffs, and the Professor away from Emmons' room, Butch thought over the green puff's words. Maybe he was getting tame…
Blossom had been ready to go to sleep, mind still full of the day's events, when her communicator went off. Excitement had immediately buzzed across her skin. She knew that out of maybe four people, only one ever sent her a message so late at night. The message had been short, simply a time with "Y/N" tacked on at the end. After all that had happened, though, she hadn't been sure how to answer. For the last few days, she and Butch had been sparring almost nonstop. It was almost as if he was training her and that might actually thrill her if it was true. She was more than eager to jump into another session.
However, after Emmons' death and the unhidden hostility that had followed from his comrades, Blossom had felt the weight of their anger and grief on her bones. She couldn't escape them anywhere in the Resistance, her only solace her room in the living quarters. She had spent the rest of the day in her room, only venturing out for meals since, any time she went any farther, the thoughts assaulted her with anger and blame and fear. She felt exhausted from fighting off those red, red thoughts, but the temptation of sparring, of releasing that responsibility, was much too sweet to pass up. As bad as she felt, Butch was probably the one person who wouldn't be defensive around her.
And so, she sat on one of the benches as she waited for him to show up. She still felt a little guilty that she was partaking in something that brought her pleasure despite the death that she had indirectly caused. She reasoned that she was doing this in Emmons' honor, so that she was strong enough to protect everyone from the Narcassians. To get that strength, she needed to train, and who was better to train with than the self-proclaimed strongest Rowdyruff?
Running her hands over the face, the redhead tried to ignore the flutter of nervousness in her stomach. She was still worried about Brick finding out, if he wasn't already aware. She knew Butch would never tell, mostly because she threatened bodily harm of a delicate nature and could read his mind, but she still worried. Brick had his ways and he wasn't stupid.
Biting her lip, Blossom perked up at the pneumatic hiss that heralded Butch's entrance. The green ruff waved at her, floating from the door to the simulator. She quickly moved to his side, frowning slightly at the swirl of thoughts in his head. She wasn't being mean when she said that Butch was usually a simple-minded person. He didn't usually let things bother him, but she could tell that he was mulling over something.
She just hoped it didn't have anything to do with her. She didn't want to cause him any problems, considering what he was doing for her.
"You'll get wrinkles if you worry so much," the sergeant remarked, grinning lopsidedly as she swatted his arm.
She smiled in response, albeit weakly. "You don't worry enough!"
"I worry," he retorted and the smile faltered a little, his expression more subdued. He turned back to the simulator, punching in his access code. "Just…not very often."
His voice was softer and Blossom frowned at such an out of character reaction. She could tell that the green ruff had mellowed out considerably over the years. She certainly couldn't call him psychotic now, but such a soft voice wasn't like him. He should have just laughed it off, teasing her for her motherliness and chastisement, not make a face like the one he was making at that moment. How did she respond to that?
Cautiously, she touched his arm and opened her mouth to say something, ignoring the open door of the training simulator, when another voice echoed from across the room.
"This is a surprise."
The voice wasn't surprised, though, but neither was it angry. It was painfully, painfully neutral and two pairs of wide eyes whirled towards the two faintly glowing irises coming towards them.
Blossom felt her stomach fall and Butch hissed out a curse. The glowing-no…burning eyes stopped ten feet away from them.
The pink puff swallowed thickly.
No, Brick wasn't stupid. At all.