As said, here's Chapter 15 a bit sooner than before, but with more of a focus on the side characters. The fluff's pretty high on this chapter, I must admit but nevertheless I hope you guys enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Powerpuff Girls in any way, shape or manner as the rights belong to Craig McCracken.

Chapter 15

How Do You Know You're Safe?

That afternoon while Ty dropped Jasper off, Mitch awakens from a 12 hour sleeping period on the floor of his living room.

First was the stench, the most recent from the broken glasses of scotch, sprawled on the living room carpet that absorbed the foul liquid, promising it to last for another four hours. Next was the kerosene as a burning sensation filled his nostrils and forced him away from a pit of deep stupor he never realized he was under until now. The rest of it came as indescribable, forming a description between decaying bodies and rotting garbage fresh out of the sewers.

Despite the odor, Mitch couldn't sacrifice his eyes for the sight he was to see and recognize it as his own trailer home. Worse yet, to come back to the reality of his life. He thought of the syringes and dope lying on his floor with a grimace, wondering if he should take it in before he's dry. What would be stopping him that made a difference in the past?

What's the point? He thought listlessly before pushing his limbs to life and forcing his eyelids open.

The walls, once a vibrant mix of brown stripes, were now masked with a thick layer of grime and mold from neglect to create a dark sticky complexion. Alcohol, along with tar and soot from the lighters, stained the carpet covering the disheveled living room, the only furniture consisting of the couch Mitch now sat on, a coffee table covered with metal spoons and a shared lighter, a dining table from the kitchen corner, the grime matching those of the walls with a mass of dishes filled with uneaten food flooding the sink and counters, and the same static television set his grandmother died watching in her last moments.

What's the point? Gazing at the setting before him, the drug addict found it impossible to answer that question.

Shifting his weight to rise from the couch, his body creaked and groaned like a rusty machine breathing life for the first time as he made way for the bathroom. To his surprise, in his hallway lied a woman that looked decades older than she should've been drunk off the scotch lying on the floor, meaning there was another party that ended in his house with another crash with brand new people, same problems.

Rather than wake her, he stepped over her and dragged himself to the bathroom. The small room had white tiles covering the walls, a slightly rusted sink on the right immediately following the door with a toilet and a tub following suit. All in all, it seemed like the best room so far.

Mitch started out with the usual. After his hands were scrubbed clean, he went for his arms, then the face, scrubbing until it flushed pink from the pressure. After this he would go back to smoke two cigarettes and get on with the day, but he stayed. He willed himself to look in the mirror, to really look at the face glaring back from the other side and see if it'd still be the same person he pretends to be once he leaves the front door.

The kid gazing back at Mitch looked gaunt and sickly, the brown locks hanging in front of his eyes now stood in thin wisps, as if it could blow away at the slightest touch in the breeze. In comparison his skin gave off an eerie white glow against the light, a stark contrast against the dark holes looking back at him in the mirror, now abyssal black where they were at one time deep brown.

The brunette let out a long shudder, as if he was gazing at the ghost of himself in the near future. He tried rinsing off his face for the second time and clearing through the twisted mesh of hair, but looking back he saw a cleaner version of the man before, but the sickly image remained the same, if not more obvious.

Is this what everyone else sees? He asked himself quietly, but then laughed to himself. Nobody sees him.

Going back to the hallway lied the same blonde woman, and from the looks of it she wasn't going anywhere in a while. Upon taking a closer look the lady couldn't have been older than 28, but why did she look so old before? From the rags she had as clothes and the gaunt complexion, it didn't look like she had a home, much less anyone close enough to care for her. This is probably as close to home as it gets. He thought sadly, and he just met her last night apparently.

He could've woke her up, kicked her out of his trailer so he could start on cleaning the usual mess, but instead Mitch dragged out the nearest blanket to throw over her, took his jacket and left. He didn't feel like going through all that trouble and it wasn't like he had anything of real worth in there. Besides, he needed some fresh air anyway.

But where to go? Step by step the conclusion seemed uncertain to him now, and it looked like he was going nowhere. But thinking back to where he came from, anywhere away from there would be fine with him.

-Bubbles-

Man this place is pretty boring without Blossom and Buttercup. Where'd they go anyway?

"The times I need them the most they're always gone." I grumbled to myself. Nope, the only thing here to help me is Octi, except I think I'd rather him the way he is now instead of talking like before*.

Nope, for now it's just me and Spongebob. I bet they're all hanging out with their friends. Why couldn't I get invited to go to the skating rink or the movies once in a while? I mean there was the sleepover, but not that I'm home I'm wondering if she did it just so I felt welcome to the team.

Then there's the game…should I even bother going? Will I fit in?

Once the phone rang I zipped to the kitchen to get it. Buttercup, the Professor, or some random telemarketer I don't care as long as I'm not stuck here by myself.

"Hello?"

"Bubbles!" Blossom was on the other line. She doesn't sound too happy. "Where were you last night?"

I giggled nervously. I never thought she'd care too much about it, if she did I would've called. "Well Kim invited me to sleepover and…"

"That's no excuse!" she yelled "Bottom line is you should've told me!"

Funny you're telling me this when I've been gone all night. "But you never bothered calling! I didn't think you would really care…"

"Bubbles of course I care!" there was a pause "Look. Me and Buttercup–"

"–Don't you mean Buttercup and I?"

There was a long silence. "Whatever. We're in the elevator right now, so we'll see you in like five minutes, okay?"

"Hey wait, where were you guys?" But the phone shut before I could ask. I leaned back on the counter thinking back to today. Blossom and Buttercup can't even agree to what pizza toppings they want, what could they be doing together?

And why didn't they invite me?

"Sup." Buttercup burst through the door and went straight to her room. Blossom on the other hand took her time locking the door and set her purse aside, giving me time to prepare what to say without sounding like I'm accusing them of anything.

"So… what you guys do all day?" I asked in what I thought was my most innocent voice.

"Nothing much. Went to the Library but it was closed today. Stupid mistake on my part."

Stupid mistake? Blossom never makes stupid mistakes; that has to be a lie! "And Buttercup was there?"

She stood quiet for a moment, as if trying to find what to say. "No, she met me on my way home."

"And that's it?"

"What?"

"You went to the Library and back."

"That's…about it." She grinned then. "What's all these questions about Bubbles?"

"Nothing." I mumbled and turned back to my room. After closing the door I held Octi close to stop myself from crying. "Why would they lie to me?" I whispered into his soft fur. If only there was someone to talk to, someone that made me feel like I'm not the baby everyone plays with!

I looked over to my phone's screensaver. It was me and Becky's photo during my first soccer game. I thought about calling her, tell her about my sisters and how invisible I feel. Does she feel that way sometimes?

But then I thought against it. No, she's spending time with her dad, it wouldn't be fair to interrupt their time together. I could just talk to her tomorrow at school, even if I have to count the minutes until Monday comes anyway.

I wonder what she's doing right now.

"Okay look…yea–I KNOW…"

As her parents went at it, the amount of times it occurred she lost count of a long time ago, Rebecca Stewart kept her focus on the window, gazing at the dry plains dancing in the breeze, probably going up to her waist if she had to guess. But the landscape was just gorgeous. The mountainous regions of the Coachella Valley were just starting to recede as they left the valley, but the dry grassy plains would continue to trail after them for the rest of the trip, promising a solitary ride home along the untraveled roads. She was already starting to imagine what magic Brandon could do with just one photograph of this setting, and to think it's just an hour or two away from the city.

"Why are you always like this? It's always you and that freaking job!"

She puffed the black bangs from her eyes, wondering when was the last time she could remember being under the same roof as the two without a door slamming at the end of the day or the sound of crying rupturing the tense silence of the night, may it have been hers or her parents'.

And as usual, she thought of Pokey Oak suburbs, where she spent the best moments of her life.

"Well whatever. Bye." Wyatt Schneider snapped the phone shut and looked back at his daughter with a sympathetic smile, the same one he has after every argument him and his ex-wife had. She smiled politely in return and turned back to the window, wondering how a pair like her parents could ever come together thinking it could last for eternity. Her father was born and raised on a farm in the Midwest in a small close-knit town before he met Sandra, who recently moved there from the city. Convinced she was the love of his life, they moved to California to start a new life with their daughter who just turned five.

Despite such good intentions, the two couldn't be more opposite. Her dad had a rugged, laid-back, Southwestern sense of charm that made everyone naturally warm up to him despite his large build, whereas her mother executed an proficient form of charismatic superiority, honed for years from announcing live television for the Townsville Broadcasting Network as Sandra Stewart. Her father's worn down flannel and tanned coarse skin always appeared to clash against her clean-cut business attire, snug tightly against her taught pallid face. Never a crease in sight, much less any stains, or God forbid a wrinkle. Everything about her from the apparel she wore to the politicians she interviewed reflected nothing but stone cold ambition. Anything less than perfection would be obliterated before she even bat an eyelash.

Becky and her father never made the cut.

"Bad news kiddo." The truck driver's gruff voice sharply interrupted her thoughts before she sent him an innocent look, as if she wasn't just concluding their failed marriage as hopeless from the minute they exchanged vows.

He gave her another apologetic smile, but this one a bit warmer, more affectionate towards her troubled predicament. For some unknown reason, Becky and her dad shared more of the lethargic qualities Sandra could never possess. It's because of this the two could share a much closer bond with each other despite fewer words exchanged.

"Your mom's gonna be running a little late because of some paperwork she has to file for the network's 'authorization of sources' or something. You know I'd drop you off in the city but…"

"I know you gotta go to work Dad." She finished for him "Gotta pay the bills, right?"

"Sadly." Her dad scoffed, but she was already aware of the gratitude setting in his eyes for understanding his problems. "Make any friends?" He inquired with an odd hint of intrigue in his tone. The journalist grinned instinctively, happy to answer the question that usually leads to disappointment.

"Yeah, this new girl and I have been planning on hanging out." Thinking about how Brook's face will light up once she steps through the courtyard only made her grin spread wider at finally being able to find something worthwhile in that wretched city.

Her father couldn't hide his surprise at this sudden answer. "Really? Alright, tell me about her! Have you met her mom yet?"

The girl's bright mood then vanished with a disgusted scowl. "No they will not be your rebound, and I feel sorry for the woman that is!"

"Can't blame a man for trying." He smirked before turning to the road.

In the moments that followed, Becky found her eyelids growing heavy before letting them rest onto her pale skin in bliss. The silence that encompassed between them was one of tranquility, the relief of not having to use so many useless words was remarkable to say in the least.

Why can't I just stay here? She would whine to herself miserably every Sunday, but then again her dad could barely take care of himself, much less his daughter. The feminine characteristics given to her were concepts beyond anything a brawny truck driver could fathom –their last session of 'The Talk' left her so scarred she couldn't even sit on the same couch with her dad without thinking of the nightmarish ways he tried to describe to her what it meant to be a 'woman'–.

But still the way things are back in Indio seem undisturbed and still. Townsville's piled to the brim with cars on the street, honking and cursing like their voices will make a difference on the tedious speed of traffic. Those who are smart enough to walk to their destinations aren't very pleasant to deal with either. Everyone's always in some big darn rush to go somewhere they can't wait to leave! His father remarked as a joke one time. Doesn't make a lick of sense to me!

Me neither… But her thoughts were interrupted when she stole a glance at the driver's seat to her father's side, who seemed troubled.

"Dad?" By the time she spoke there was a momentary silence as he debated on whether or not to let out his true feelings.

But with a sigh, he stared at his troubled daughter for a long time and realized that this façade they so selfishly put on her had to end.

"You know I was thinking, you should take out that black hair dye," he mused to hide his true intentions "you know just for a little while, like maybe a week or so."

"Dad I can't do that." Becky replied.

"Oh c'mon at least give it a little haircut or something. You could barely see yourself through all those bangs." he teased trying to lighten the situation.

"And I like the way it is now." She responded in a stern voice, clearly done with the conversation.

The driver then furrowed his brows, growing agitated with his daughter. "It's just one change Robyn, I mean it's not like your changing your entire look."

"Don't call me that!" she snapped in his direction.

"Why not, it's you name!" he barked, losing his patience altogether.

"No, it's not!" she yelled back before slumping onto her seat with a stubborn pout "It's Becky now. Rebecca Elizabeth Stewart. It's about time you call me that before someone notices."

"This thing was ten years ago Rob–" he caught himself after receiving an icy glare "Becky. When are you gonna let it go?" Throughout their argument, he couldn't hide the concern hiding from just underneath his deep brown eyes. For once couldn't she just smile, to really smile like she meant it! Rather than do it for someone else, when is she going to start doing things for herself?

"Baby I just wanna see you happy…" he said in a softer tone, Becky could almost hear his voice crack from behind her back, but she refused to turn back to look at him, or otherwise admit defeat in the argument.

"Mom said that there's no way I can resemble what I looked like before–"

"–Forget what your mother said, all she cares about is her goddamn job!" Her father yelled in a furious rage.

"That's not true!" she protested with stubborn defiance.

"Just let down the front a little bit. This isn't you."

"And what if I lose my cover, then what'll happen? I become the next Mitchelson case? I'm fine the way I am and I'm fine with being Rebecca Stewart. She has one brother, settled in Florida for five years before coming here and life's been fine as is."

She could only whisper the next words "Robyn doesn't exist anymore."

"It's been a tough fight on all of us sweetheart." He responded with a gentle hand rubbing Becky's pale skin. Of all the things Wyatt hated more it was arguing with his daughter, a stupid topic like this wasn't worth having her mad at him. "I'm sorry."

Yeah I bet. She growled indignantly, but she could never said that. Half the time in arguments she always had more to say, more to fight back with and prove her point, but she stops herself every time to avoid trouble, now it's second instinct. Thinking back to what he said about Sandra made her blood boil, enough to make her say something she would never mean to have uttered.

Don't get mad because she chose her job over you… The damage such a phrase could deliver would be almost fatal. Oftentimes words are best left unsaid, especially when it jeopardizes the one relationship she could count on in her life.

"Hey you could stop here, otherwise you'll be late for work." She said after a long silence

Poking his head outside of the window, the man turned back to his daughter with a cocked brow, "You sure kiddo? This place kinda looks… weird."

She did have to give him that; the place did look odd. The abandoned park had a large old patch of land covered with old dirt where a house –or a small building at the very least– should've been held. Rather than the graceful swing of the grasslands, the rest of the place had dried grass that came out in clumpy blotches up to Becky's ankle, looking prickly and unkempt rather than a place of silenct tranquility. Covering the grass were various debris scattered across the fields before finally landing on a heap of garbage resting beside the edge of a small lake in the distance.

Her dad had a point. The place looked a little shifty, but that wouldn't stop her from what she needed to do. "Don't worry dad, I can handle myself." she reassured with a bright grin, afraid he may have seen through the plastered front.

"Got the pepper spray?"

"Wouldn't leave without it."

"That's my girl." he beamed with a triumphant expression before sending her a tiny wink. "See ya Bobby Blue."

Bobby Blue's a new one. She pondered in amusement, intrigued from her father's creativity. Since the accident he's tried to slip in shortcuts to her full name. Later on, the list grew as names like Robbie, Bobbie Schneider, Red Robin, and R.S. came out, so 'Bobby Blue' wouldn't be close to the first, but it certainly wouldn't be the last.

But now with her father disappearing in the distance, Becky could now focus on the remnants of her past life with the hopes that maybe she just might find some closure in the place where everything started.

The debris of the Pokey Oaks Kindergarten school weren't even cleared up after the accident, neither was the soot that covered the empty lot in a thin sheet of black dust. The clearing she saw now couldn't be the elementary school she grew up with, a place meant for joy and bliss. No, this one couldn't compare at all, it just looked so…dead.

Suddenly Becky turned back, wishing her dad had never left so that she could go home, even if it risked his job. But she instead stepped forward onto the barren ground towards the gravesite. As the bristles pricked her skin, she thought of the fresh laid cement trailing to the doors, covered by the scent of a clean mowed lawn with trees swaying from the gentle breeze as they all piled through the door to see Ms. Keane's ever-present welcome. Inside the walls lined with pictures and drawings of the class, the noise grew from laughing and yelling, the smell of apple cinnamon wafting in as the door shut soundly right as she's about to start the lecture…

Then the floor set ablaze with fire as the tiles below turned into burning coals. The noise grew louder, their laughs turned into blood curdling screams in a sudden instant. The smog burned through Becky's nostrils and she was forced to crawl her way through the fire as the hot coals underneath scorched the palms of her hands, scrambling for a way out. She couldn't bear to call out, otherwise suck in another gust of black smoke, suffocating her lungs of air desperately needed.

There's no way out she thought in despair I'm gonna die here. Tears flooded down her ashen cheeks before seeing the green puff, centered in the raging flames, screaming for it to stop, for someone to stop. She couldn't understand what was happening to her, and before she could call out to her for help, a large force collided against the top of her head, and everything went dark for what seemed like an eternity–

No. Becky shook of the terrible nightmares. She would not let the last of her childhood memories be soiled from such an event, no matter what anyone else thought of it. Be as it may the graveyard for the rest of her classmates, but it's not hers, and she won't treat it as that.

She got not closure from this, just more pain. Then she wanted to leave, she wanted to disappear from this place, this Earth altogether, anything from being liked to this girl who's already supposed to be dead!

The lake once noted came off her far left, far away from the old building site and the property associated with it, but it had a sort of tranquil aura surrounding the body of water, as if it were set apart from the tragedy. Travelling towards it proved difficult from the dried razor sharp grass, but it proved worthwhile to see the lake in full view.

The garbage rested on the coastal marshes underneath the old harbor, but there wasn't a speck of waste beyond the coast that residents resided on. The lake glowed from the warm embrace of the sun, traveling down into the clouds as it said its last farewell until dawn. It was without a doubt the most beautiful thing she's seen in years, giving the entire setting a rustic () rather than what was considered tragic just minutes ago.

Trekking along the weary planks a gust of dust flew into the air with each careful step she took, doubtful on if walking down the path was a wise decision. But at last she made it to the final plank and got a view of the lake, shining like a diamonds in the light. It almost took her away from it all, it almost made her feel like she was liberated for the very first time in a decade.

But gazing out at the body of water she knew better. When she arrived back at the condo things would go back to normal. Of her, doing nothing but hoping that one day things would be different when she knew better than to hope but did it nonetheless. There was no Robyn, no Rebecca. There was no one here, because no one bothered to look.

The girl then took out the guitar, caressed the smooth mahogany across the body of the instrument, and let her thumb glide across the strings to produce sound, a voice. This was in a way her voice, her only one.

He didn't know how he found the place, much less why he ever came, but for some reason as Mitch Mitchelson approached the clearing, a wave of nostalgia swept over him like a gust of air, gentle yet firm enough to overwhelm him in a lifetime of memories of what was.

The girls' faces entered into his thought. A lifetime of what could've been.

It's like everything died after Him attacked the place. Now it's like a…

A wasteland. His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of a soft hum, followed by the strum of guitar strings. Like the rustle of grass or the soft whispers of a desert, the music was barely there yet also encompassed the entire clearing.

"Hello Darkness my old friend…I've come to talk with you again…
Because a vision softly creeping… left its seeds while I was sleeping…
And the visions... that was planted in my brain…still remains…
Within the Sounds… of Silence…"

Following the song's source appeared a girl, no older than himself, playing a guitar on the edge of the harbor. A strong feeling of annoyance spread inside of him like a vile weed, agitated from seeing someone contaminate the grounds he considered sacred to him, grounds where his friends died on, where his life took a turn for the worst. There should be no one allowed on this ground but himself of course.

But she kept singing as he drew nearer to her location, unable to resist the trance he was put under by her voice. Low and subtle, but power hid behind those delicate drawls, emitting a haunted melody that filled the air around the two as he crept closer.

"And in the naked light I saw…Ten thousand people maybe more…
People talking without speaking…People hearing without listening…"

The power in her voice rose with the flow of the rhythm, deliberately slow and treading like the rising force of a wave ready to collide with the sand in an outburst of intense vigor. He could feel her anger, her resentment, for what he didn't know. It was like he knew what she was going through.

"'Fools,' said I 'you do not know…Silence like a cancer grows…
Hear my words that I might teach you… Take my words that I might reach you…'
But my words.. like silent raindrops fell–"

Suddenly the plank below the brunette snapped underneath his weight. His foot sank right into the hole and he muttered a restrained curse like a ranger who just spoiled perfect scene in nature. Struggling against the creaking wood Mitch snatched his foot from underneath the planks and stood up before realizing the music abruptly stopped. Looking up he saw the girl was standing now, pale and frightened from the surprise and realized his mistake.

"O-Oh! Sorry–I didn't mean to scare you–! It's just… it…"he kept stammering as he tried to find an excuse for his invasion of privacy. Here he was ready to scold her for corrupting the secluded place when it was he who was supposed to apologize.

Becky couldn't stop staring at him, mixed between feelings of extreme suspicion and deep curiosity. What could he possibly want to do here of all places? Did he know something about her that he shouldn't know?

"It's just that your music was…" Mitch rummaged through the air for a word, an excuse, but came up with nothing.

"It was really nice." He finished with a low mumble. Becky still stared at him as her suspicion wore off, but her curiosity stood firm, both wondering if there was a real purpose and if could ever be some truth behind such a genuine compliment.

"…Thank you." She replied with the same soft voice. Moments passed and they still stood, Mitch couldn't help but notice how bright her skin shone from the sunset behind her, contrasting the black in her hair almost perfectly.

He tried to focus back on topic; making an excuse for being a stalker. "You probably think I'm weird. I don't say this kind of stuff often so–"

"–No it's okay!" Becky stammered back, she didn't want to give him an excuse to think she was weird, the entire school already thinks that enough.

Another brief silence ensued. "Simon and Garfunkel?" she nodded in eager agreement from the question.

"Yeah, I noticed the tune. They're one of my favorites." He replied with an easygoing grin, cursing himself for being so awkward.

A car horn rang out in the distance. Becky turned to see her mother in the same Benz she used to drop her off at the usual checkpoint, still tapping her manicured index finger impatiently so she could return to her never ending business at work. The singer fought the urge to stick out her tongue and turn back to her guitar in peace.

"There's my mom… guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah. Guess so." She was about to reach for her things on the edge of the harbor when the planks groaned and writhed with sudden speed. All at once the front boards snapped from underneath her body, just as it had done with Mitch before.

"C-Crap!" Becky plummeted with all her held things to the ten foot drop into the muddy marshes of the late. But just as the girl closed her eyes to the worst, a stiff hold took grasp of her waist and held her in midair from the water as the guitar case dangled in her hands.

"Whoa! Hold on!" Mitch shouted, wondering why he had never warned her before. With a quick grunt he managed to pull her up from the drop as her legs scrambled for a stiff hold on the broken wood.

"Don't worry, I got you." He said just as the girl tripped over herself and face planted into his chest. Catching her once again she looked up and Mitch finally got a look at her eyes. In them was the most radiant hue of blue he'd ever seen. Sparkling like an ocean at sunrise, but at the same time they looked so warm, welcoming like the smoothest current of a crystal stream so clear you could see the pebbles floating by at the bedrock below, clear like the untainted sincerity of a child just experiencing the world.

Becky couldn't believe how frustrated she was. First almost falling off a freaking cliffhanger and now tripping over the guy that saved her 3 seconds ago! She was just about ready to stammer an apology before she looked up and saw what a deep brown his eyes had. Everyone describes them as an abyssal black, a sort of Hell conjured inside for so long that it managed to change his eyes. And yes, she could notice the conflict in those eyes, but other than that against the light they seemed earnest, amiable, but most of all honest. The kind of frank truth that people have tried so hard to disguise through the years, but he held them as free as any other.

"I got you." He murmured softly. And then right at that moment, Becky found herself laughing. At her clumsiness, at the moment, she didn't know, but was washed over with relief when she saw that he too was laughing, but at what? They may never know.

The blaring horn crashed through their moment as Becky turned back to the car in alarm. "I-I got go. Bye!" And she ran off in the direction of the vehicle.

Wait-wait! Mitch thought impatiently. Her name!

"Hey!" he called out again. "Sorry if I scared you –well this is the second time– but I uh… just wanted to get your…"

She looked back at him, her bright blue eyes now frantic and panicked at the sound of the horn.

"…song's name…" Pathetic.

Becky gave him a puzzled look. She thought he said the band was his favorite, and this is one of their classics. "It's the Sounds of Silence." She glanced back at her mother "Look, I really have to go, it's an hour getting to my place and my mom's really busy, so…" she paused for the right words and ended with a tiny smile "…it was nice talking to you?"

"Yeah. It was." Mitch followed her path up until seeing the car she ran towards, inside a woman in her early thirties eyed him with a wary apprehension from behind her dark sunglasses. It was after that brief second she broke off her gaze to give her daughter a stiff welcome before speeding off in the black Benz.

Still, despite her coldness, Mitch was still grinning to himself, really grinning.

There's something you don't see every day.

-The Next Day-

-Bubbles-

"And Brook you should've seen his eyes!" Becky whispered in excitement. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Wasn't it just last week she was complaining over how I was playing love doctor?

"Oooh!" I mused with raised eyebrows "Sounds like a crush!"

"No it's not!" she argued, but the blush on her cheeks said everything.

"Ok." I agreed and whipped back with an evil grin. "Then it must be lurve! Oh Becky what did he say to you with those big brown eyes? 'Kiss me?', 'embrace me…'"

"God you're so immature!" Becky complained, but she was still smiling "Why did I even tell you?"

I nudged her shoulder to show her my puckered lips. "Because I'm your friend and you luuurrve me!"

But of course I wasn't Mitch, so she shoved me off with an agitated look. "Whatever."

Just as we were walking inside I tripped over myself AGAIN. Just as I was about to fall Becky caught me right on time, but instead of getting back up I felt really lightheaded and held onto her for just a few more moments.

"Hey Brook you okay?" Becky gave me a look of concern.

"Yeah, just been getting this weird headache all day." I tried to shrug it off, but I wasn't so sure myself. "When's next period?"

"That would be in… 15 minutes" she sent me a sympathetic look "Wanna go to class now?"

"Mm-hmm." I felt a little bad, dragging her back to class so early, until someone caught me eye in the nick of time. "In fact you stay here! I see your boyfriend coming! Have fun!"

"Brook…" She tried to catch up to me but I was already on the other side of the hallway. Maybe this guy might get you out of you little shell!

"Brook! Come on!"

-Brick-

"And she had coal black hair–kinda like that new girl's hair–no the short one. Really long bangs, watery blue eyes–"

"Since when do you pay that much attention to anyone at this school?" Ty snorted across the table.

"I dunno it's just–" Mitch muttered, trying to grasp the words "that girl. She looks different to me, like she's…from somewhere…"

"Nope, not hearing it! Leave this table!" Colton yelled as he hid his ears, pointing away from the table.

As they started to argue I took my brothers away for the perfect moment. After a long… long debate with myself, I knew the bigger the number the faster we could get to this person, or cult.

Or whatever the hell THEY are! Boomer looked back at me with a dejected look, as if already knowing what was on my mind. Butch didn't even bother looking at me, or anyone, but just gazed out at the courtyard with a distant expression.

"Doesn't matter!" Boomer exclaimed breaking the moment. "The girls aren't gonna help regardless. They hate us, remember?"

"Unless we give them a reason to help." I replied. If I didn't have my brothers on my side, then there's no hope for the plan.

"Any ideas?" he responded

"This cult is all about restoration right? So how do you think they'd react if they realized three serial killers were set free in the streets?"

Boomer looked confused "But wouldn't that…help us?"

I resisted the urge to slap him and instead gripped his face between my fingers. "Not if WE'RE dead too moron!"

My eyes flickered back to Butch, still in his own world. What the hell's gotten into him?

Before I could interrogate him, Boomer ripped himself from my grasp and raised his arms in expectance. In a way, no matter what would happen, it was gonna be up to me to make sure this plan doesn't end up backfiring, because while Pinky gets her own private support with the up-and-up, it'll be our lives on the line if this fails.

"So." Boomer muttered absentmindedly "who gets to tell them?"

-Blossom-

At the back of the Amphitheater, not too far from where we sit on the grass, I dragged Buttercup off so no one would notice anything.

"What the heck are we doing here again?" she groaned aloud before leaning back onto the building.

"We," I repeated for the third time under a clenched jaw "are going over what powers we can still use to see how far the digression's gone."

"Oh yeah." Buttercup face started to grimace "Can I go get lunch before we do this?"

"No, because I told you to pack your lunch today. You didn't so now you'll just have to pay the consequences."

She let out a loud groan before bouncing off the wall "Whatever, let's just get this stupid thing over with!"

I bit my tongue in restraint. One day those two are going to grow up and thank me for the crap I put up with. It's doubtful, but it's what I have to believe to get through this. Bringing out the clipboard I decided to get it done sooner than later.

"We'll go over the biggest powers, like force fields for me and…and…" I cast a fleeting look in Buttercup's direction when I caught myself.

"…you don't have a special power…right." I let out a nervous chuckle from the cold glare she sent me. Oops. "So I guess I'll start!"

Just as the Professor taught me I channeled all my energy to the core, beneath the sternum where our Chemical X lies at its strongest. Then with that energy focused I'll receive a surge of power to drive it as a means to shield, block, protect…

And…nothing happened.

…still nothing…

…Nada…

"Anything yet?" I twitched at the sudden disturbance to see Buttercup's arms crossed in impatience.

"No." I murmured "But maybe if I–"

"–Look Pinky, two days ago I couldn't fly two feet. I doubt you're gonna be able to do something like that."

I was almost offended. How dare she belittle me! "Okay then. What about you?" I replied evenly and snatched the clipboard "Let's see you try to do some X-Ray vision."

She narrowed her focus on the Auditorium for a moment or two until turning back with an indifferent shrug. "Nope."

I tried the same with no luck. "Me neither. What about super strength?"

With the flex of one finger one foot of the layered cement collapsed from behind her. "Got it."

That's weird. I had such a hard time carrying my books this morning. "And super senses?"

She stepped off the building to get a view of the courtyard with a pair of squinted eyes. "Hmm… hey I see Becky!"

"Really? Where?" I stretched over her to see, but only got a view of a bunch of classmates bundled in a crowded blur.

"Right there!" she even pointed to her direction as if it were clear as day. "And-Oh. Ooh."

"W-What is it? I wanna know!" Buttercup's eyes widened at what she was saw from the two, making me feel even more agitated. I never felt so out of the loop before! Is this how Bubbles feels half the time?

"Looks like she just had a little chat with Mitch."

That was it? I shrugged it off. Buttercup has been prone to over-exaggerate just to irritate me. "Well she did say she wanted to interview him. See what's in his head or something, right?"

She rolled her eyes at my response. "I guess. So, you couldn't hear anything?"

I shook my head. "Not a thing. But how come you can?" I asked, well actually demanded. I didn't mean to sound rude, but it just didn't make sense. We got the watches at the same time!

"Pfft!" Buttercup probably noticed this and flipped the bangs out of her face in an air of surged arrogance. "Cause I'm the best puff out of the trio!"

I cocked an eyebrow at that. "I doubt it. We got these the same exact time, so there has to be another reason why you have more powers than me."

"I dunno, maybe I have more of a resistance." She shrugged

"Resistance?"

"Yeah. Whenever you and Bubbles got a bug from school I never got sick, or at least I was the last person to. Maybe it's something like that or…" she waved her arms out at me in a flustered craze "I don't know you're the smart person here!"

And then it clicked. "I think you're right! I mean it makes sense since you are the strongest."

"That I am." She agreed, her ego rising.

I rolled my eyes. Too bad you're not the brightest. "So you could just have more resistance to the watch's effects."

"Cool!" But just as I was ready to put down the clipboard she grabbed my arm in a sudden panic "But wait–If I'm the strongest out of the three and you're second, then how far has the watch gone with Bubbles?"

I could feel the blood drain from my face at this realization. Here we were so worried about keeping this from her when she was the first person we should've told in the first place.

We stood there in a suspended silence before my phone broke the silence. I looked at the caller ID. Becky. Becky? Isn't she supposed to be in the courtyard?

I answered the phone in gradual caution. "Hello?"

"Brianne! T-There's something WRONG!"

She was talking so fast I couldn't even keep up. I could sense Buttercup coming behind me as I tried to calm her down.

"Becky? Wait-wait… just slow down… What are you saying?"

"B-Brianne it happened so quick! I didn't know what else to do–!"

The cautious feeling in my gut transformed into dread and suddenly my heart was throbbing against my ribs. She was the last one with Bubbles. Dear God… God don't let it be about her.

It took every ounce of restraint to keep my voice from shaking. "Becky… what happened?"

"…It's Brooke. She…" I had to grip onto Buttercup to keep from growing faint.

"…she stopped breathing."

Yeah I contemplated letting this continue but it would've been too long. Besides this is the perfect ending until next chapter!

So by all means fav/follow, review (you know the button's calling your name…), or you could just wait until next chapter. Commentary's appreciated.

The song Robyn/Becky sang was a cover inspired by Vienna Teng in her cover of The Sounds of Silence, written by Simon and Garfunkel.