The next week was an incredibly happy one for all three of the Powerpuff Girls. A light snowfall came to Townsville the day after Christmas—and the snow was hard, just perfect for making snowballs. The girls, temporarily ignoring the fact that they were fifteen years old, had a day-long snowball fight that day, taking a break from their Christmas presents—Buttercup's violent video game that she had already gotten to level eight on, Bubbles's scrapbooking materials, and Blossom's Danish book, which she was going through slowly, to savor the acquisition of new knowledge.
New Year's Eve came around, and as usual, the girls and the Professor went out to eat in a sports bar, watching the countdown to the new year on the television there and dancing to the party music being played.
And then, of course, the girls would have to make a quick sweep of the town before going home… there were a lot of crazies out on New Year's.
"We'll be home soon, Professor," assured Blossom as the Professor, wringing his hands in worry, climbed into his car by himself.
"And we'll be careful, too!" said Bubbles.
"And we won't party too hard," grinned Buttercup.
"Just get back soon, okay?" said the Professor, still worried. "I'll wait up for you…"
"We'll be as quick as possible," said Blossom. Giving a nod to her sisters, she took to the skies, her sisters following suit.
"I wonder what wackos we'll find tonight?" mused Buttercup. "Oh man, remember those guys who tried to pee on your shoes, Bubbles?"
"How could I forget?" shrieked Bubbles. "Those were my best shoes too…"
"But they were drunk," reminded Blossom. "Drunk guys are pretty easy to handle."
"It depends," said Buttercup cynically.
"Their inhibitions are lowered," said Blossom simply. "That's why the number one date rape drug is alcohol. You can get a drunk person to do just about anything… plus, their reflexes and senses are dulled."
"You don't need to quote your sex-ed textbook from sixth grade, Blossom," muttered Buttercup.
"Seventh grade, actually," said Blossom, not bothering to hide her smirk.
The girls' light-hearted argument was interrupted by a very, very loud crash, followed by irritatingly familiar laughter. Buttercup groaned upon hearing it. "Oh shit," she muttered. Any minute now, Bubbles would start acting twitchy and middle-school-crush-ish.
Blossom sighed. "Sounds like we've got to deal with our favorite super-powered testosterone-charged boys tonight. You know the drill… if it comes to fighting, fight our counterparts."
Bubbles and Buttercup nodded. The "fight your counterparts" rule was a silly one to Buttercup, but she knew why Blossom had to mention it every time they had to deal with the Rowdyruff Boys. If Bubbles was caught one-on-one with Brick, she would freeze up and be rendered totally helpless.
The girls landed forcefully in front of the boys, who had by that time kicked over a dozen trashcans and dumpsters, leaving garbage spread all over the sidewalks. The boys stared at the girls, then laughed rudely.
"Oh man! Look who's here to stop us!" laughed Brick. "Bloss, Bubs, and Butter!"
The girls made faces at each other. No one ever shortened their names, and Brick's usage of nicknames sounded utterly ridiculous.
"Our twins!" Brick continued. "That is, our twins who don't have a Y-chromosome!" He laughed again. Buttercup could smell alcohol on his breath, although he was still talking and acting fairly coherently.
"I'm surprised you even know what a Y-chromosome is," said Blossom fiercely.
"Besides, we've been around longer than you guys," snapped Buttercup. "You guys are just Powerpuff Girls with penises. That is, if you even have penises, which I doubt."
The boys all gasped in horror, then glared ferociously at Buttercup. Buttercup kept her sly grin. There was no better way to beat down a boy than to threaten his masculinity.
"Nice going, Buttercup," whispered Blossom tersely. "I was hoping to avoid an actual fistfight."
"That's it, you bitch!" Brick growled. "No one fucks with me like that!" In a flash of red, he flung himself at Buttercup—
—but Blossom had anticipated that move in a heartbeat. In an instant, she had moved between Buttercup and Brick and had given Brick a swift, stinging punch.
"You know what to do, girls!" she cried desperately as Boomer and Butch zoomed towards her, hell-bent on exacting revenge for her injury upon their brother.
BAM!
BAM!
Bubbles and Buttercup were ready. With well-aimed punches of their own, they sent their counterparts flying.
All three boys quickly climbed to their feet, eyes blazing.
Now's when the fun begins, thought Buttercup, grinning dangerously.
Blossom may have wanted to avoid a fistfight, but Buttercup had been hoping for one—hence her purposely pissing off the boys. It might be dangerous fighting with someone with the boys' powers, but Buttercup found it a pleasant challenge to pit her strength and powers against someone with the exact same abilities of her own. Fighting Butch certainly wasn't the same old, same old she had grown accustomed to when fighting your average, run-of-the-mill crooks.
Buttercup had also fought Butch enough times to know the most important thing to remember when fighting him—he was totally unpredictable. Well, she could be that way too!
Before Butch had a chance to even touch her, Buttercup had tackled him to the ground and was flinging punch after punch in his face. An instant later, Bubbles and Blossom were locked in their own fights with Boomer and Brick, respectively.
Buttercup's mind kicked into overdrive. Some other force was controlling all her actions. She hardly thought at all with every punch, every block, every kick. Even the pain wasn't registering to her.
Had she been paying better attention, she would have seen that her sisters weren't having it as easy.
Bubbles had quickly overpowered Boomer. She had long before learned the best way to defeat Boomer—distract him. So, with a cry of, "What's that? Over there!" Boomer had spun around to the direction in which his female counterpart was pointing. Bubbles then gave him a solid punch to his head, and he fell down to the pavement.
Blossom, however, was having a tougher time dealing with Brick. Brick might have been arrogant and even a bit foolish at times, but he certainly did have a head for planning… and figuring out his opponent's next move. Normally Blossom had the exact same ability to always be one step ahead, but tonight she was faltering, perhaps due to fatigue, perhaps due to something else. Brick flung a punch at Blossom, and Blossom failed to duck, getting hit square in the jaw. She stumbled back, and Brick, taking advantage of the situation, sent another punch straight to her gut and one to her left eye for good measure. Blossom crumpled to the ground.
"You next, blondie!" Brick taunted to Bubbles.
Bubbles froze.
He had hurt Blossom. Hurt her badly.
But he was still so good-looking…
No! That doesn't matter! Bubbles thought wildly to herself. Just because he's cute doesn't mean he's nice! He hurt Blossom and he's going to hurt you too!
Brick lunged at Bubbles, but Bubbles flung up her arms and grabbed Brick's arms in a deadlock. The two struggled against each other, their eyes glaring.
"You're pretty tough for such a cute little baby," said Brick, sounding genuinely impressed. "Your leader sister's not even this strong."
Bubbles's eyes grew wide. "What did you say…?"
For one brief moment, Brick smiled. Bubbles, mistaking the smile for one of genuine care, instinctively lowered her arms by about half an inch.
That was all Brick needed.
He tore his arms out of Bubbles's grip and gave her two swift punches, one to each eye. Bubbles toppled over.
Bubbles's pain seemed to jolt Buttercup out of her free-for-all with Butch. Enraged, she kicked Butch in the crotch dismissively and left him crumpled on the ground fighting back tears of pain. She glared at the boys' leader.
"You leave my sisters alone," she growled, her eyes twitching.
"What are you gonna—"
Brick's taunt was cut off by a sizzling eye-beam. A LONG sizzling eye beam. Buttercup held and held the eye beam as long as her eyes would let her, zapping the hell out of Brick. Finally, she let off, rubbing her eyes wearily.
"…shit!" a very burnt Brick managed to choke out. "Now you've asked for it! Boomer! Butch! Get your fucking asses off the ground and help me!"
"No way, man!" said Boomer, climbing shakily to his feet.
"WHAT?" Brick hollered.
"Dude, they beat us!" cried Boomer. "And now all I wanna do is lay down and try to ignore the pain! I'm not fighting them again!"
"Me neither, dude," muttered Butch, still looking incredibly pained from Buttercup's well-aimed kick. "I sure as hell ain't fighting her again, anyway. She's nasty!"
"Wusses," sneered Brick.
"What, you can't fight me yourself?" taunted Buttercup.
Brick went into spasms of pained rage, shouting out one-syllable utterances every second or so.
Finally he regained his composure. "I swear, Butter-bitch, next time I see you I will thrash you, do you hear?"
"Yeah, I hear, you don't have to yell," snapped Buttercup. "Fly back to your mommies, girls!"
"If we had fingers, you'd be seeing a certain one of mine right now," growled Brick. "Come one, bros!"
Once the Rowdyruff Boys were finally out of sight, Buttercup allowed herself to fall to the pavement in pain. It must have been the adrenaline of the fight, she thought to herself, that allowed her to not notice these pains that were now racking her entire body… at least, to not notice them until both Blossom and Bubbles were out of the running.
Speaking of Blossom and Bubbles…
Buttercup crawled over to her sisters and ran a hand on each of their foreheads. "Are you girls alright?" she asked hoarsely.
Bubbles managed to stand up, and then hover in the air. "Yeah, I think so," she said shakily.
Blossom's eyes creaked open, and she looked around her, completely dazed.
"Are you alright, Blossom?" Buttercup asked.
Blossom's eyes moved back and forth in temporary confusion for a few moments before locking on Buttercup's and narrowing fiercely. "I would be, if it hadn't been for you!" she snapped.
"What are you talking about?" cried Buttercup, her worry for her sister's well-being giving way to defensiveness. "I got rid of them!"
"If you hadn't suggested that they were castrated, we wouldn't have been fighting them in the first place!"
"When did I say they were castrated, huh? Tell me when I said that!"
"You know when! You implied that they don't have penises!"
"Yes, but I didn't say they were castrated! I was saying that they never had cocks to begin with!"
"God dammit, Buttercup! It doesn't matter what you technically meant! Because of your needless jab, Bubbles and I got the crap beaten out of us—and this should have been a simple confrontation!"
"How can you believe that load of bull you're feeding yourself?" Buttercup shrieked. "We weren't dealing with the 'Let's-Talk-About-Our-Feelings' bunch! We were dealing with the Rowdyruff Boys! All they ever want to do is fight! Trying to 'talk things through' would have just been a waste of time!"
"You don't know that for sure!" cried Blossom. "There's always the chance that we could have avoided that—but no, thanks to you, Bubbles and I have black eyes!"
"You can't blame me for your inability to fend him off!" cried Buttercup. "And you certainly can't blame me for what happened to Bubbles! She just got all love-struck!"
"I—" Bubbles began.
"It's not like Bubbles can help what she feels," growled Blossom.
"Her feelings shouldn't even be a factor when she fights!" snapped Buttercup.
"I can't help it!" wailed Bubbles.
"You think that she chose to…" Blossom's voice trailed off.
"Of course I don't think she chose to get a crush on a bad guy!" yelled Buttercup. "Who the hell would? What I want to know is, Bubbles, why can't you get the fuck over him already?"
"I'm trying!" wailed Bubbles.
"You're not trying hard enough!" snapped Buttercup. "When I had a stupid, silly crush on a bad guy, I got over it in an instant when I found out he was using me! Yours is even more pronounced—he beat the crap out of you! What's so hard about getting over someone like that?"
"It's not that easy!" said Bubbles, her voice faltering.
"You have to louse things up by freezing because you can't give your cute little asshole of a crush a good solid punch in the teeth like he needs—"
"SHUT UP!"
Buttercup and Bubbles both spun around and stared at Blossom, who was glaring back at them with an exasperated, helpless look.
"Leave Bubbles alone, Buttercup! You don't have a clue what it's like!"
"Hell-o? I know exactly what it's like! I had that stupid crush when I was five years old—"
"Yes—you were five! You're not five anymore! Neither is Bubbles! And I… I've never really been five," she whispered bitterly.
Buttercup began to twitch with fury, just as Brick had a few minutes earlier. "I… I… I cannot fucking stand you, Blossom!" she finally roared. "You think you always have to know everything and know exactly what's going on! You have to be Miss Perfect and act like you're better than us! I'm the one who should be saying to you that you don't have a clue what it's like! I know way more about what Bubbles is going through than you do!"
"I know more than you give me credit for!" cried Blossom.
"Oh God, what, your Chris episode suddenly makes you the expert on harboring feelings for bad guys? Come on! The Amoeba Boys are more evil than he is, and you turned him down, you fucking moron!"
"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!" screamed Blossom, howling in rage and…
…grief?
Buttercup did shut up, hearing clearly the change in Blossom's voice from full-blown anger to desperate, piteous despair.
"Blossom…?" Bubbles asked, gently, tentatively.
"You two have no clue what I've had to live with my entire life!" cried Blossom, her voice shaking, her eyes huge, her body trembling, the most emotional her sisters had ever seen her become. "You have no clue what I've gone through… what I go through every day! You have no clue what's going to happen to me!"
"What do you mean?" demanded Buttercup. "What's going to happen to you? Blossom? Blossom!"
For Blossom had taken to the sky, and was long gone.
O.o.O
Seconds later, Blossom was huddled in the darkest corner of her closet, shaking uncontrollably.
Buttercup's ranting about freezing up and letting emotions muddle your fighting was justified… but little did she realize that it had happened to Blossom too… most noticeably that time when they were six years old, when she suddenly became a jinx.
The girls had never questioned why she had suddenly lost her ability to think straight. Had Blossom told them the truth… but she hadn't. All these years she had hidden her feelings as best she could. That time was no exception.
Mojo's robots that were destroying Townsville were amazing accomplishments. They fired at movement—and accurately hit their targets, despite the speed at which the target was moving! Which was why, when Buttercup demanded a plan from Blossom, Blossom had been unable to answer at first. She was amazed at what Mojo could do. And in her amazement, she had messed up.
She had been even more amazed when he had her family in his clutches, rendering them helpless by the apparatus. Angered too, of course. She was always enraged by how he used his mental powers, but still she was always amazed.
It had been a wonder that she had come up with the solution at all.
She had nearly been too late, although the solution was a simple one.
Mojo had completely overpowered her, although he likely didn't even know how he was doing it.
She ran her hands through her hair, yanking hard at a tangle. Her mind was made up already, but still her dying rationality was making a last, fruitless struggle to win out.
For God's sake, Blossom, don't give in. You've always fought this. You've always been strong.
But I can't keep this up anymore, Blossom thought desperately to herself. I totally lost it in front of Bubbles and Buttercup. I've turned into an utter wreck… even more so than I already was. I'm not helping anyone by staying where I am.
That's no excuse to run off.
But he's the only person on Earth who can help me. Who can teach me. Who can understand me.
Blossom, listen to yourself! He's your ENEMY! He's a freaking MONKEY! He's EVIL!
I don't care anymore! Besides, we're both going to die soon, and I'm NOT dying like this!
Blossom stood up, pulling out a suitcase and throwing clothes in it haphazardly. Her rationale was still arguing, but the rest of Blossom's mind had put up a wall, blocking it from her mind entirely. She didn't care anymore.
With her belongings packed and a quick note left on Buttercup's bed, Blossom slowly and quietly flew out of her house, as to not leave a streak of pink behind her.
O.o.O
Bubbles and Buttercup flew back home in silence.
The blonde Powerpuff kept her eyes diverted, trying to not let Buttercup know how much she had hurt her. She wished, more than anything, that she could block out her emotions like Buttercup could… but she just couldn't. It wasn't even with Brick—she had always had trouble beating up anyone, no matter how evil they were. She didn't see a criminal, like Blossom and Buttercup saw. She saw a living creature.
Then again… maybe Blossom saw something else too, considering the way she had just reacted. And considering what she had said to Bubbles earlier, about boy troubles…
Bubbles bit her lip, trying to keep from crying. Blossom was always so sad, and Bubbles didn't know why. She wanted to help her sister… but how can you help someone when you don't know what exactly is wrong with them?
The girls landed at the front door of their house.
"Yes, I'm going to apologize!" Buttercup snapped at Bubbles before Bubbles had a chance to say a word.
"To who? Me or Blossom?" asked Bubbles.
"Blossom, duh," said Buttercup.
"You hurt my feelings too," whispered Bubbles.
"Don't be a crybaby," muttered Buttercup. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, Bubbles. There. Now let me find Blossom and apologize to her!"
Bubbles gulped and nodded as Buttercup opened the door. The lack of conviction in that apology was, to say the least, less than satisfying, but Bubbles figured she'd take what she could get at this moment in time.
The Professor was sitting anxiously in a chair in the living room. "Hi girls, you're back! How was it… and where's Blossom?"
Buttercup blinked. "What, she's not here already?"
"Maybe she went to go fly around… think things over…?" Bubbles offered, hesitatingly.
"Maybe," said Buttercup.
"What happened to her?" asked the Professor, concern etched on his face.
"I have no idea," sighed Buttercup. "She just totally flipped on us after a routine fight with the Rowdyruff Boys."
"I'm going to see if she's upstairs," said Bubbles, floating up the stairs and into the girls' bedroom. She flipped on the lights—no Blossom.
"Blossom?" she called out to an empty room.
There was no answer. The room was just as it always was—
—except for the note on Buttercup's bed?
Bubbles zipped over to the bed and picked up the piece of paper.
Professor, Bubbles, and Buttercup—
I don't know how to put this, so I guess I'll start at the beginning—I'm sorry I've deceived you all these years, and I'm sorry that I still am. I've realized that I can't stay with you anymore, but I can't tell you why. Trust me, you don't WANT to know why. Bubbles and Buttercup, you know how I flipped out on you just now. I'm sure that showed you—as clearly as it showed me—that I am simply in no state to be protecting the city anymore—protecting the city from myself and everything that I am, that part of me that I have never let you see.
Please, don't go looking for me. I won't tell you where I am, because you'll be far better off not knowing, but trust me when I say that I am safe and, hopefully, content, or at least more content than I have been. All I'll say is that I'm with the only person on Earth who could ever understand me and what I'm going through, and you wouldn't believe who it is even if I told you.
Don't give up on crime fighting, Bubbles and Buttercup. The city needs you and your abilities, and I know how capable you both are. I love you both very much. I love you too, Professor. I'm grateful to have had such a wonderful family.
All I ask of you is to forget the bad things about me and remember the good. You all have the wonderful ability to forget—and how I wish I had that ability, for if I did I might still be with you right now.
Love,
Blossom
Bubbles stared at the letter, her mouth agape, for approximately seven seconds.
And then—
"PROFESSOR! BUTTERCUP!"
O.o.O
Blossom clung tightly to her suitcase as she flew through the cold night air, shivering slightly to herself. Perhaps it was the cold, or perhaps it was nervousness… most likely both.
In no time at all she could see Mojo's volcano-top observatory—the place she and her sisters had helped him build ten years ago. She stopped, still about fifty-some feet from the observatory, her stomach in knots, as she pondered just how she was going to approach Mojo's place and tell her why she was there… oh God, this was too hard…
"Do you plan on hovering up there all night, or will you finally come in the open door that I have opened for you?"
Blossom yelped in shock—for there was Mojo Jojo himself, standing in front of his open door. Blossom's throat dried up as she stared at Mojo in confusion. She hadn't heard him come out and open the door—
"Of course you didn't hear me," growled Mojo. "I have been here as soon as you decided to run away."
"But—but how did you know?" Blossom cried. "Did you—have you been spying on me?"
"Maybe, instead of shouting at each other outside in the open, you can come inside following your original reason for coming here so I can explain?" Mojo suggested. He smiled at Blossom, that evilish smirk of his that always scrambled Blossom's confused and wounded heart even more so than usual.
"But—" Blossom began.
"I know exactly why you have come," interrupted Mojo, "and thus I know that you want to come in with me anyway, so please, save us both the time and just come in—and yes, I will explain exactly how I know all of your thoughts!"
Blossom gasped. He had answered her question before she had spoken it—even before she had quite formed it into words in her own mind.
She hesitated for one fleeting second, but then floated down to Mojo's level. Mojo smiled that smirk of his again.
"Now that's better," he said. His voice sent even more chills down Blossom's spine.
"Now tell me," growled Blossom, "how did you know I was coming?"
"Come in and sit down, and I will tell you," said Mojo, gesturing inside.
Blossom hovered inside and Mojo carefully shut the door behind them. Giving a quick glare at Mojo purely out of habit, she made her way to the couch situated in the atrium of the observatory. The dwelling was just as Blossom had remembered it—high, imposing ceilings; cold tiles for the floor and walls; a dark color scheme; but upon sitting down Blossom was pleased to discover that the couch was surprisingly comfortable.
Mojo sat in a chair opposite and quite a ways away from her, folding his hands in a thoughtful manner. Blossom gulped. She remembered, of course, from their latest meeting that Mojo, despite looking much older and very much worse for wear, he had seemed to grow even more menacing, if that was at all possible… and his complete calmness at Blossom's sudden arrival, along with his apparent ability to read her mind, was frightening Blossom so much that she could barely stand to look at him.
"Oh, don't feel that way, Blossom," said Mojo, almost gently. "I told you I would explain everything—but seeing as you are fatigued, tired, exhausted, sleepy, and just plain pooped, would you rather wait until tomorrow after you've had a good night's rest?"
"I won't be able to rest until you tell me exactly what's going on here," snapped Blossom, rubbing her blackened eye.
Mojo looked directly at Blossom's black eye. "I can get you something for that."
"I'm fine."
"Trust me, Blossom, thanks to you and your accursed sisters I know how to treat black eyes."
"Yes… I suppose you would," admitted Blossom.
"Brick could have been an intelligent criminal, you know," mused Mojo, sounding a tad disappointed. "When I first created him, he had an ample amount of intelligence—obviously not to the phenomenal level of yours or mine, but still he had a lot of potential… until Him recreated the boys and totally obliterated everything about them that made them mine."
"Including their weakness," reminded Blossom harshly.
"Who cares about that?" cried Mojo. "The point is that the boys are wasting their pathetic lives! They could be the most evil villains this city has ever known—apart from me, of course. They've already got the physical abilities—for that is quite the shiner Brick gave you!"
"I've got the exact same phys—wait a minute," said Blossom. "How did you know it was Brick who did this to me? Just how long have you been reading my mind, anyway?"
"You remember," said Mojo, slowly and precisely, "of course, that time I nearly killed you?"
"Of course I remember," said Blossom, spinning her head around to avoid letting him see her eyes. "I would remember that even if I didn't have perfect memory!"
She growled with anger as that whole horrible, horrible moment in her life came flooding back to her, her crystal-clear memory of the event triggered back to life by Mojo's comment…
O.o.O
"They're everywhere! Freaking everywhere! What do we do, Blossom?"
Blossom didn't answer Buttercup's question right away—she was more focused on trying to figure out just what the eight-year-olds were up against. At first glance, it simply looked as if the city was being overrun by millions of insects—Roach Coach was back again? But their perfect formations, along with the jerky movement of their legs, had fairly well convinced Blossom that they were dealing with tiny robot-insects.
"What we need to do is find out who's behind this," Blossom finally said. "Split up! Buttercup, you go north. Bubbles, go east. I'll go west. Whoever finds whoever it is behind this, call the others!"
"What about south?" asked Bubbles.
"And why do I have to go north?" demanded Buttercup.
"There's only three of us, Bubbles, and we're in the southern part of the city, so going south wouldn't cover as much ground as going the other directions. And Buttercup… why does it matter which way you go?" Blossom finally said.
"Because north will take me straight to the center of town, which is most likely where the mystery mastermind is!"
Blossom gulped—she had been thinking precisely the same thing, which was why she was so keen on having anyone other than her go north. For if it was truly Mojo Jojo behind this plan, as she suspected… she knew she couldn't face him by herself.
"It doesn't matter," Blossom finally shouted. "Just go! And whoever finds whoever's in charge of this, let the others know! Now GO!"
Bubbles and Buttercup zipped off in their assigned directions, knowing better than to argue with Blossom. Blossom watched them fly off, then went in her westerly direction, zapping as many insect robots as she could. All the while, her sharp mind was running through every possibility of what Mojo—it had to be Mojo—was planning with all these insects. Some sort of hostile takeover with bugs running up everyone's pants? Were the bugs carrying some sort of device to their master—who may or may not be Mojo—to help him take over the world? Were—
"Now go, my insect army, for with your help I shall rule Townsville, and then the world!"
Blossom stopped dead in her tracks at the sight in front of her—it was indeed Mojo Jojo who was sending off the insects on their diabolical scamperings, so taken by the current success of his evil plan that he didn't even notice Blossom.
She had to stop herself from screaming—screaming what would most likely would have been a profanity. Well, didn't it just figure. She took an out-of-the way direction to avoid facing him alone, and yet he was there anyway. Damn fate.
"And with you helping me to—"
"Not so fast, Mojo Jojo!"
Mojo spun around to Blossom, enraged. "Curses! The Powerpuff Girls—oh, my mistake. Just one Powerpuff Girl." He smirked. "Do you honestly think that you can beat me by yourself?"
There were a lot of things Blossom could have said to Mojo at that point. She could have said "my sisters can come faster than you can say 'monkey punch'". Or perhaps "I can beat a pompous egotistical simpleton like you with one hand tied behind my back", had she been feeling exceptionally daring.
But nothing like that came out of Blossom's mouth.
"Mojo, why the bugs?"
The question hadn't been asked in a snarky, hero-fighting-villains type of way. It had been asked… well, in the way one would expect a normal, confused eight-year-old to ask a question to a teacher or parent.
Mojo laughed rudely. "Do you expect me to divulge to you my entire evil plan?"
"Why would you stop now?" snapped Blossom. "That's what you always do."
"Hmm… you're right," said Mojo thoughtfully. "I wonder why?"
"Because all egotistical villains explain their plans for no apparent reason to their antagonists! And you've never been an exception!"
Mojo stuttered, clearly riled by Blossom's remark. "Well… I will be an exception now! Although it does seem a shame to hide my plans from you, as your intelligence is absolutely astounding, making you probably the only person on Earth who would appreciate how ingenious my plan is—besides me, of course!"
"S—stop building up your ego, Mojo!" Blossom spat out with difficulty. Keep your cool, keep your cool, she mentally berated herself… although Mojo complimenting her intelligence was making her insides turn to jelly.
"Yes, I suppose it is pointless, redundant, unnecessary, and all-around ridiculous to stand here and tell you how remarkable my plans are," said Mojo with a shrug. He pulled out the biggest laser gun Blossom had ever seen. "Seeing as I am going to kill you."
BAM!
Blossom socked Mojo in the gut and pinned him down to the ground. "Not likely," she said, happy to discover that her typical leader voice was now back in force… although her stomach still felt pained and queasy.
Mojo noticed the return of Blossom's confidence as well, for he looked visibly nervous, but apparently wasn't finished taunting her yet. "It's a shame that you have a moral code… for with our combined intelligences, Blossom, you and I could easily overpower the world."
"You're forgetting that I've still got an advantage over you," said Blossom. "My strength." She leaned further down on Mojo to accentuate her remark, applying as much pressure as she could on his shoulders. Their faces were so close to each other that Blossom could smell Mojo's breath—and to her surprise, it actually smelled good.
Mojo smiled. "And you're forgetting that, while I do not have the powers that you do, I am strong as well," he said quietly, his lips nearly touching hers.
Blossom trembled from the pounding of her heart. Without realizing it, she slacked her arms and closed her eyes.
It would prove to be a near-fatal mistake.
With sudden, ferocious intensity, Mojo flipped Blossom over and flung a fist at her stomach. Then her eye. Then her other eye. Then her jaw. Then her stomach again. Then her face again.
And Blossom, too shocked, too confused, to hurt—emotionally as well as physically—to react, could only lie there and take it.
He finally stopped, but he was still pinning Blossom to the ground, his fingers piercing her skin. "I really don't want to kill you," he said roughly, as Blossom gazed helplessly and wonderingly at him through her bruised, squinted eyes, "but seeing as you're against me, I have no choice."
He held his laser gun at her face and fired.
O.o.O
"I was in the hospital for five weeks," snapped Blossom, glaring at Mojo. "The doctors told me that for the longest time they thought I wasn't going to make it. Of course I remember that!"
"But did your sisters ever tell you what happened when they found me?" Mojo demanded.
"Yes," said Blossom, anger giving way to confusion and thoughtfulness. "They told me that they had no trouble at all beating you up, because you were dazed and nearly unconscious. So what happened, then? Did I somehow beat you up after you knocked me out—do I actually have amnesia and not remember what I did when—"
"No!" Mojo interrupted. "You did absolutely nothing to me! When I fired that laser you were knocked out, you lost consciousness, you went into a coma, you were near death, just as you should have been!" He leapt out of the chair and rounded on Blossom, his eyes blazing with fury. "But in my attempt to kill you, something happened to me! When I fired that laser at you I could feel the impact as if I were firing it at myself! The pain of it was too great for me to be able to put up even a decent chance against your sisters!"
Blossom gulped from her position on the couch—which was by now shrunk back in the corner due to Mojo's roars. "You… felt my pain?"
"Felt it? It was more than that! I experienced it as if it were happening to me!" He began pacing up and down in front of Blossom, occasionally glaring at her during his next long tirade. "Once I was out of jail and able enough to stand on my own without falling over, I went through every explanation I could think of. Eventually I decided that you must have hurt me more than I thought when you initially pinned me to the ground, and so, taking that one incident as something of a freak accident, I tried again to destroy you and your sisters—and I made special efforts to get youfirst, just to prove to myself that it was a coincidence!"
Blossom replayed her next confrontation with Mojo through her mind. "Yeah, you did seem more intent on killing me than killing Bubbles or Buttercup… You actually threw a laser gun at my head and nearly gave me a concussion—"
"And I nearly gave myself a concussion as well!" cried Mojo.
"Then…" Blossom began.
"Yes," growled Mojo. "I found myself feeling every little pain that you did. In fact, I believe I had noticed it before, but I didn't realize it was your pain I was experiencing… I just assumed that I was experiencing lingering pains of my fights with you."
"I've felt those too," said Blossom. "It's entirely possible—"
"Those were often likely my own pains you felt!" Mojo interrupted. "I know that you've figured it out, you're just too scared to admit it! We have a very real connection!"
"That can't—"
"It IS true!" cried Mojo. "For soon, I found myself having thoughts that were unlike my own—your thoughts!"
"That's impossible!" snapped Blossom. "Telepathy doesn't exist! Especially not between you and me!"
"It most certainly does," growled Mojo. "For the past six years now I have known your every thought!"
Blossom glared at Mojo. "I don't believe you," she hissed.
"Despite all the evidence you have that I am correct?" Mojo sighed impatiently. "Alright, fine. You think of something, something random, something so strange and unusual that the chances of me randomly and unusually thinking the same random, unusual thing would be practically zero, and I will tell you what it is!"
"Alright, fine," snapped Blossom. She thought for a moment, before her mind suddenly produced a picture of cupcakes.
Mojo snorted. "Cupcakes? Come on, you can do better than that."
Blossom gasped. "How… how…"
"You foolish girl! You still do not believe me! Well, that's not really true… for you realize that what I have told you is true, but you don't want to believe it." He snorted again, although this time it was accompanied by a half-smile. "You are so stubborn."
Blossom squinted her eyes shut and pressed her hands against her head in irritation. Smarty pants, she thought, how about this? Purple… chainsaws… in Switzerland…
"Ah, now you're getting creative!" said Mojo. "Purple chainsaws in Switzerland. Quite amusing."
"STOP READING MY MIND!" Blossom shrieked.
Mojo stopped his pacing abruptly and shot an icy glare at Blossom. "You think I'm enjoying this?" he growled, his voice low and threatening. "Do you actually think that I would purposely do this to myself?"
"To yourself?" cried Blossom. "What about what you're doing to me?"
"Stop thinking of only yourself—and remember that I do know exactly all the things that you've gone through!" Mojo jumped back on the couch again, right in Blossom's face. "If you would only think about what this means for me—every terrible thing that you've lived through, every contradictory thought that has ever run through your brilliant little mind—and I cannot stop 'reading your mind', for it is much more than simply reading your mind! All your thoughts are my thoughts! All your pains are my pains! Whatever happens to you happens to me as well!" He was now so riled up that his words were coming out rapid-fire. "My only chance to rule the world was then to destroy your sisters and have you join my side, but you would always be there in the way, protecting them! For you see, I cannot rule the world without destroying your sisters, and I cannot destroy your sisters without destroying you, and I cannot destroy you without destroying myself—and what is the point of ruling the world when you are destroyed?"
Blossom gulped in fear, at a complete loss for words.
"Didn't you ever wonder—well, of course you did, your mind is my mind so thus I know for a fact that you did—why I so suddenly, abruptly, unexpectedly, and without warning stopped trying to take over the world?" Mojo asked, only slightly more composed. "Oh yes, Blossom, just like you are now, I denied the truth to myself as long as I could, but I was finally forced to accept that if I killed you, I would kill myself as well. Your mind is now nearly indistinguishable from my own—although it in a way always was—"
"Wait a minute!" cried Blossom. "You said for six years you've known my every thought? My… every thought?"
"Yes, your every thought," growled Mojo.
Blossom's jaw hung open in silence.
"Yes, including your highly conflicting feelings for me," said Mojo.
There was another pained silence.
"How… how dare you?" Blossom suddenly shrieked. "How dare you invade my privacy—you—you bastard!"
"I'm not doing this by choice!" Mojo yelled, looking just as angry as Blossom did. "As I said earlier, do you honestly think I would purposely, knowingly, and deliberately do this to myself on purpose? Thanks to my connection with you, Blossom, I have had to give up my life's dream! What do I have to live for, since you and your sisters make it impossible for me to take over the world without having to kill you in the process? All I can do now is sit around and feel your pathetic teen angst! Why don't you get out of my head?"
Mojo grabbed his arms around Blossom's neck. Blossom kicked Mojo forcefully, causing him to drop her. Mojo rounded on Blossom, grabbing a lamp and flinging it towards her, rage controlling his every action. Blossom ducked, socked Mojo in the gut, and held him pinned to the ground…
…with the strangest sensation in her stomach.
Mojo still looked crazed with fury, but he actually cracked a smile. "It feels as though you've been punched in the gut, doesn't it, Blossom? See, already you are beginning to understand our connection. It will not be long until my mind will be inside yours as well… then we can truly be the same individual, as we were supposed to be."
"Never," whispered Blossom, her eyes glazing over.
Mojo, too, looked completely exhausted. "Why don't you go to bed, and we'll talk more about this tomorrow?"
"What… what do you really want from me?" Blossom asked, the last part of her question turning into a yawn.
"Does that matter?" Mojo asked. "I am not holding you here. You came to me, by your own free will. What matters is what you want. And I know fully well what that is. You want answers. You want knowledge. And I shall give you all the answers and knowledge you could ever desire tomorrow, but right now both of us are too fatigued and exhausted to continue with this. Especially considering how much of this first evening together we have spent yelling at each other."
"Fine," whispered Blossom. Fine, damn it, fine, she was through arguing with someone who knew what she was going to say before she had a chance to say it. She was through fighting someone who was so powerful, so horribly evil, so terribly arrogant, and so frustratingly wondrous that she could hardly look at him without having both her mind and body freeze up.
She wanted sleep.
"And you shall get sleep," Mojo said.
He gently pushed Blossom off of him with ease, and Blossom let herself sink onto the ground without a fight. Mojo stood up and held out his hand. "Unless if you want to sleep on the floor, which I highly doubt, I do have a guest bedroom."
Blossom took Mojo's hand and stood up, following him to his guest room. Through her sleepiness, however, she couldn't help but wonder why on Earth Mojo would have a guest bedroom. He couldn't possibly get many—if any—visitors.
"No, but I do like to be prepared, and plus, it's a standard household feature."
Blossom sighed. "Tomorrow, will you let me talk?" she mumbled as soon as she thought the words, so that Mojo wouldn't cut her off.
"Certainly," said Mojo. He opened a door and revealed a small room—somewhat dark, but clean looking enough, with a twin-sized bed and a nightstand in it. He pulled the covers back, and a grateful Blossom sank down onto the bed—which was, like the couch in the atrium, surprisingly soft.
"Sweet dreams, my dear," said Mojo, smiling almost mockingly at his Powerpuff adversary.
"I hope they are," said Blossom levelly, fixing a sleepy but stern gaze upon Mojo. Now leave me alone and let me sleep.
Mojo said nothing to this. He simply continued to smile at Blossom, turned around, and left the room, shutting off the lights behind him.