"Buttercup!"

"No."

"Buttercup!! Buttercup, wait!"

"Shut up, Butch!"

Buttercup had been avoiding me the whole of yesterday after that incident in the bedroom, and she had been ignoring me this entire morning. After breakfast, I managed to corner her, but she still seemed pissed at me.

Buttercup glared at me, her bright green eyes flashing dangerously, and then she turned on her heel and stomped away.

"Buttercup!" I yelled, scampering down the hall after her. "Hey, wait up, Girlie!"

Buttercup stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face me, her arms crossed and a scowl plastered on her face; I couldn't stop fast enough and bumped into her shoulder.

"What part of 'Shut up' don't you understand?!" Buttercup growled, shoving her face in mine. "…Hmmmm?! Get lost; leave me alone."

Before she could leave, I zoomed in front of her and blocked her way, spreading out my arms and legs to barricade the doorway to the bathroom, where Buttercup had been heading.

"What's your problem?" I asked her; her scowl grew even bigger. "Why are you being such an asshole?"

"What's MY problem?!" Buttercup roared, little specks of spit flying out of her mouth. "What's YOUR problem, Butchie?!"

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was almost certain that it had something to do with her strange behavior in the bedroom yesterday.

"What do mean, 'what's my problem'?" I spat, tightening my grip on the frame of the bathroom door. "I'm not the one freaking out, being unusually crotchety with her 'best friend', I quote, and avoiding him all day! Not to mention running away from me in the bedroom yesterday!"

The color drained from Buttercup's face, but she quickly got a hold of herself and regained her grouchy temper.

"Why do you think I ran away from you yesterday?!" she hollered. "You attacked me! Like some dirty crazed lunatic!"

Now it was my turn for the blood to leave my face. I'd never attack Buttercup for real; only in one of our roughhousing games. How was that possible? I never remembered me attacking her; I only remembered being in horrible pain, and then finding myself clear across the room from where I'd started. She was the crazed lunatic.

"What in the HELL are you talking about?!" I screamed. "I never attacked you! I would never attack you; only when we're play fighting!"

"Are you saying I'm crazy?!" Buttercup snapped, her face alight with rage. "You attacked me, I'm dead serious! It wasn't play fighting; I could tell! You looked like you were gonna tear my head off for God's sake! Why did you think I was so scared; saw a ghost maybe?!!"

Her sarcasm hit me painfully.

"No I DIDN'T!!" I protested; she must have hit her head during our battle with the robbers or something. "I SWEAR I didn't! How can you do something without knowing you did?!"

Buttercup stared at me, her face blank.

"What you mean…How?"

"I was hurting, I had this really bad headache; you saw me! And the next thing I knew, I was all the way across the room. I don't know how I got there, but that's what happened!"

Buttercup shook her head, her hand on her forehead. But when she opened her eyes again, they were narrowed, and looking right at me.

"Who was that green eyed, spiky haired little punk that attacked me then? Your identical twin?!"

I shook my head this time.

"Nobody attacked you; you're insane."

"You're insane…Butchie. How long have you been insane? For as long as you've been alive."

Her words lashed into me like a giant, silver knife, slicing me up like a potato in a food processor. I always knew I was insane, but for some reason, hearing it confirmed by my best friend totally knocked me off of my feet. I stared at Buttercup, my eyes wide. She stared back at me, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at me.

"I suppose you thought it was funny to scare the crap out me." Buttercup growled, showing no signs of sympathy towards me. "Well it wasn't, you stupid lunatic."

I couldn't say anything; my voice was caught in my throat.

"I'll show you something REALLY funny!" Buttercup yelled in my face; her foot shot out at me before I could react, hitting a body part of mine that really shouldn't be kicked. A cry of pain escaped my mouth as I crumpled to the ground, my hands holding my crotch. I whimpered on the floor, shaking, but Buttercup paid no attention. She stepped over me and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her, almost cutting off my foot. I pulled myself to my feet, my legs shaking like bags of Boomer's favorite strawberry Jell-O. I stared at the closed bathroom door; the mental pain that slashed into me at this sight was ten times worse than the physical pain shooting through me. My eyes searched the door, my heart sinking down until it splatted somewhere near my gut. Then I turned and ran down the hall, fighting the hot tears that were welling up in my eyes; only dumb babies like Boomer cry. But I looked just as dumb when my foot caught on the edge of the stairs and I toppled, finding myself at the bottom in a few seconds, my whole body aching. I didn't get up; I just lay there, trembling, sprawled across the carpet, my legs on top of the bottom stair. My head spun; I tried to get a grip on my insane self, but Buttercup's furious face swan into my mind, and a choked sob burst out of my mouth before I could stop it. I was thinking about how weird the hall looked when it was upside-down, trying to keep my thoughts about Buttercup locked up, when I heard pounding footsteps approaching me. Perfect.

"Butch!" Brick's voice burst out as he rushed into the hall, his long red ponytail flying behind him. I struggled to pull myself upright; I didn't want to be sent straight to a mental asylum when he saw me, lying on the ground at the foot of the stairs, staring at the ceiling like an idiot. I didn't do it fast enough though; Brick froze in his tracks when he saw me. Damn it.

"What the heck are you doing?!" Brick exclaimed as I shakily got to my feet. I got a hold of myself and sat up, rubbing my head were I'd bumped it falling down the stairs, and shooting Brick the finest of my practiced enraged glares.

"What the heck are you doing?" I spat, scowling at Brick.

"I heard some banging near the staircase, and I went to go make sure nobody had cracked their stupid head open; but if you want, I can leave you alone next time. It sure would be a lot quieter without you." Brick crossed his arms and glared at me, his red eyes flashing.

I hate arguing with Brick. At times like this, there's only one thing left to do.

"Shut up, leader boy."

Brick looked away for a moment, a horribly triumphant grin on his face; he knew he'd won.

"So what were you doing?" Brick asked; I got to my feet, snarling. I knew he wouldn't leave me unquestioned even after winning the dispute. "Dancing at the top of the stairs and lost your balance?"

"I'm not Boomer."

"Ok; you were trying out your new bed?"

"Why would my bed be the foot of the stairs?"

"I never know with you."

"Shut up." I said again, through gritted teeth. "I…I was…" It was time for the Lie Factory to crank out a new product. "I…I was looking to see if the ceiling had any dirty spots."

That was lame.

"Why for the love of Pete would you do that?" Brick asked incredulously. "You don't even look for dirty spots on your own face."

"Professor gave me a chore this morning; to check all of the ceilings and scrub 'em if they needed it." I was throwing random things out of my butt now; I just hoped Brick would fall for it.

"Why were you laying on the floor to look at the ceilings?"

I shrugged.

"Better view, I guess."

Brick scanned me; the doubtful expression on his face didn't look too promising. God help me.

"Well, ok…" Brick said, finally breaking the tense silence and giving me a little shove. "Don't kill yourself."

He flew away in a streak of red, heading for the TV; I left out a sigh of relief. I knew he didn't trust me, but at least he was off my case for the time being. As I stalked through the kitchen and towards the front door of the house, I wished it had been Boomer who'd busted in on me. You could tell Boomer that the Mayor was an active terrorist, that Mojo Jojo was the princess of Denmark, or that Bubbles was in love with Adolf Hitler, and he'd believe it without a second thought.

I thrust open the front door and walked onto the front lawn; it was a clear, balmy, sunny day in Townsville. The scents of spring drifted on the soft, warm breeze as I plopped down onto the grass and tightly crossed my legs. Even though I tried to fill my mind with weird images of Bubbles in a wedding dress accompanied by Hitler in a tuxedo, the picture of Buttercup's angry face kept popping in, stronger and more vivid than anything else. I put my head between my knees and tried to picture the Mayor bombing the Twin Towers, but the scene of my fight with Buttercup kept playing and replaying itself in my head; my hands went up to my spiky, black hair and began to yank on it madly. I squeezed my eyes shut; Buttercup calling me insane, claiming that I'd attacked her, Buttercup kicking me, and finally, the slam of the bathroom door in my face. I tried to stop it, but I couldn't; a hot, wet tear squeezed its way out of my eye and crawled down my cheek. I didn't attack her…I knew I didn't…But why…?

Then I heard a whooshing sound; my eyes popped open and I frantically wiped the tear off of my face.

"Butch!"

I looked up. Blossom was there, floating in front of me with a stern look on her face. My hand reflexively went up to my cheek; that tear had better not still be there.

"Butch, we got a call from the Mayor!" Blossom said, looking straight at me. "Mojo is attacking downtown in one of his new robots! We need to go, pronto!"

I got up and flew after her, Buttercup, Bubbles, Brick, and Boomer following close behind; Buttercup was purposely flying as far away from me as possible. I decided to ignore this, fixing my mind on memories of Mojo as my old dad as I streaked through the sky after Blossom. But even as we approached the towering skyscrapers of downtown Townsville, I found my mind fixed on an image of Buttercup, screaming relentlessly at me and kicking me in the groin. Rotten brain.

Soon Mojo's new dumb robot came into view; it was a huge monkey of course, made of gleaming metal and causing all-purpose mayhem. It crumbled buildings, stomped on screaming people, smashed cars, severed telephone wires, and just generally ran amok. Blossom sighed, shaking her head.

"Do you know how many times he's done this?" she groaned exasperatedly. "..And it always fails. We'll have no trouble, guys. Just try to wreck the robot and not whip Mojo himself."

All six of us blasted towards Mojo's monkey robot like comets; the robot turned its head in surprise. Blossom and Buttercup struck the dumb monkey right on the head, kicking it as hard as they could. Bubbles and Brick punched it in the stomach and sent it clawing at the air as it crashed into the asphalt. I flew straight at the monkey's face; giving it a good whack in the nose would be pretty satisfying. I was smirking my famous toothy smirk, a few yards away from my target, when a huge metal arm came out of nowhere and smacked me; I screeched in pain as I was rammed into the street like a bug. Before I could think, a huge mass of metal (the robot's stupid foot) was pushing on me, grinding my body into the asphalt with bone shattering force. I opened my mouth to yell, but I found it full of asphalt chunks before I could blink. Then there was a violent crash and the pressure was gone; someone seized me under the armpits and pulled me out of the street. It was Bubbles, cooing in sympathy as she scanned my face, which wasn't in the best of states. My whole body was streaked with black asphalt burns and aching all over; my face was scraped and bleeding. I cursed under my breath as I tried to wipe the blood off of my forehead, which was dripping down my face in warm rivers. Bubbles held me softly around the waist, keeping me out of harm's way as I tried unsuccessfully to fix up my battered face. Stupid rotten Mojo.

I glanced at Buttercup and my heart sank and settled somewhere around my stomach; she wasn't even paying attention. She fought and punched the robot with all of her might, scowling, but she didn't even seem to recognize that I was hurt. This time I felt a little anger erupt inside of me; I burst out of Bubbles' arms and flew at Mojo's dumb monkey robot, ramming its knees so it fell down with a crash. I hovered there, glowering at it, wiping away some blood oozing out of a gash on my face. I looked up at Buttercup, to see if she had even noticed my triumph when…

There was a flash of fire, and a cry of pain burst from my mouth. My hands went up to my head, which felt like it was being crushed under an elephant, my eyes watering and squeezed shut. This was odd; the robot hadn't even touched me. I panted, trying to keep my eyes open, the raging pain blazing through my head like a big knife. The pain suddenly seared; I shrieked in agony and clutched my head. The next thing I knew, I was writhing on the asphalt, screaming in agony, my whole body aching all over. I saw nothing, I felt nothing except for the white hot pain blazing in my noggin; it felt like a cement block was forcing its way into my head. It pushed and pushed pushed…and I screamed and screamed and screamed, my body twitching and jerking uncontrollably. Through all of the agony, I realized something; this was the same thing that'd struck me when I was in the bedroom with Buttercup, when she'd claimed that I'd attacked her. Clearly this wasn't good for me.

I fought against the crushing force squeezing my brains; I concentrated every particle of my mind on forcing that thing out. My mouth closed tightly and I trembled, cold sweat breaking out all over me, struggling with all of my might. I shoved…and I felt the pain lighten. I let out a breath of relief and relaxed for a second, but that turned out to be a stupid thing to do. In that moment I wasn't fighting, the pain seared up, and I collapsed, screaming and kicking my legs wildly. It was burning me…

The black haired boy sat on the asphalt, looking up at a huge metal thing, towering over him like a skyscraper. A maniacal laugh sounded, and the thing leaned down towards the boy, gripping him tightly in its hand and squeezing him like a bug. But the boy didn't fight; he grinned evilly at the metal thing that had him in its clutches. It was on his side, he knew it. His crazed emerald green eyes flashed scarlet for a second, and…

"AAAAUGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed with all of my might, thrashing in the grip of Mojo's giant robot, which was squeezing me like a rubber duck. I didn't know how I got there, but I knew I shouldn't be there. I groaned, thrashing around wildly, struggling to free my arms, which were pinned to my sides by the giant metal hand of the robot, which was curled tightly around my waist.

"Hurry, help him!" I heard Blossom's panicked voice cry. I frowned. I didn't need help.

But then it was back; white hot pain tore through my head like a knife, and my mouth opened reflexively, an unearthly, shrill scream bursting from it. I writhed and struggled in agony; my head was surely splitting in half and spilling my brains out.

I couldn't think… I was shriveling up like a burned piece of paper…

The black haired boy laughed, and his laughter sounded demented; even the robot holding him looked bewildered.

"Hey, Daddy-O!" the boy yelled. "Having fun, aren't ya!"

He burst into crazy laughter, uncontrollable, frenzied…And everyone was staring at him, frozen. It was like everyone but the laughing boy was stuck in a time warp…

I jerked violently, grunting in pain. And then I drooped limply, my sweaty forehead touching the metal hand of the robot that was holding my waist. I'd never felt so drained; it was as if I'd just run a marathon or climbed Mount Everest. I strained weakly, but I was too feeble even to sit up straight. I peered through my heavy, half closed eyelids, and with my blurry vision, I saw that everyone, including Mojo in his robot, was staring at me, like a bunch of stupid statues. Rotten headache. I really needed to take some aspirin or something when we got home. At least Buttercup was looking at me now; she definitely acknowledged my existence.

Then everyone unfroze at once; Brick swooped in, grabbed me under the armpits and pulled, and I finally slid free of the robot's grip. Then he flew away, holding me gently in his arms, purposely looking away from me, but he still snuck in a few worried glances. I felt the wind, cooling my sweaty skin, my head lying limply on Brick's shoulder, my tired eyes slowly closing. Maybe I could relax… Then a fresh wave of agony tore through my head, and I began to wriggle, howling in pain. Somewhere in the back of my head, I thought: not again… I thrashed like a fish out of water, and Brick struggled to keep a hold on me, his crimson eyes wide in horror. I pushed with all of might, trying to force the crushing thing out of my brain, but I was too weak…

The black haired boy was dumbstruck. A redheaded boy with a stupid baseball cap and long red hair was holding him, keeping him trapped like a prisoner. He didn't know who the boy was, but he didn't like him. It was time to break free. He thrashed as hard as he could, struggling against the red boy's grip; the redhead gasped in horror and instantly let go. The black haired boy snickered, soaring through the air and looping away, free at last.

"So long suckers!" he yelled, his voice harsh and crazed…

The pressure was gone…But something was wrong. I felt the air rush past my face and tangle my spiky hair, but I wasn't flying; I was falling. I was falling like a rag doll thrown out the window of the 22nd story, limp, weak, and too feeble to move. I plummeted down, my limbs flopping like rubber, staring at the busy street below me, my eyes watering and stinging in the wind. My brain was fogged with dizziness and my vision was blurred; my heavy eyelids began to droop, too exhausted to stay open…

And then a high pitched scream burst out, and my eyes popped open in surprise. What…?! Who…? Two strong arms suddenly grabbed me, wrapping around my waist and pulling my lifeless body towards them, clutching me against their chest like somebody might do with a baby. I heard a choked sob and the person holding me began to shake; I felt something warm and wet drip onto my face and trickle down. Struggling, I slowly opened my eyes and gazed up at my savior; it was Boomer, sobbing and hugging me like an anaconda would choke its prey.

"Butch! Butch!" he cried, bawling into my hair, hot tears cascading down his cheeks. "I KILLED HIM!!"

Over Boomer's sobs, I heard crashing; that robot must be dead by now. There was a zip and Blossom was there, floating next to Boomer, looking absolutely petrified. Her rosy gaze met mine, and her face relaxed, wiping her forehead and sighing in relief.

"He's not dead…" Blossom put her hand on Boomer's shoulder, but he kept sobbing, his tears splashing down like Niagara Falls. "Boomer…he's not…Boomer! Boomer, stop!"

I wanted to say something, but holding my eyelids open was tiring enough; I just didn't have the strength. But I tried, while Bubbles, Buttercup, and Brick flew over; Brick's eyes were blank and wider than moons. Finally my mouth fell open and a groan slipped out; everyone shut up immediately and I felt all of their gazes on me.

"You're messin' up my hair…" my words came out thick and slurred, like my tongue was swollen. But this cost me too much effort; my eyes closed and my body sagged.

Boomer gasped, and he stopped crying immediately; I felt his hands groping through my hair, trying to get the tears out. It didn't work too well though. Instead of getting the water out, his hands smoothed it into my hair and my hair gel dissolved; the black spikes of my hair drooped into my face, soft and droopy.

"What are you doing?!" Blossom's voice rang out, sharp and disapproving. Boomer held me tighter.

"Fixing Butch's hair; I messed it up! Now he doesn't look sexy!"

If I would've been fully conscious, I would've died laughing; Brick did that for me. I heard a few little giggles from Bubbles, but neither Buttercup nor Blossom said anything. I imagined Blossom staring with blank eyes and a zombie expression with a hint of disgust in it.

"What? What's so funny?"

Boomer: the dumb and confused wonder.

Someone else took hold of me, and I smelled strawberry shampoo; Blossom.

"We're taking him home; he's not well." Blossom ordered, supporting my limp head with a strong shoulder. I heard a zip and we were soaring, the cool air whipping my floppy hair spikes around like thick blades of grass. I couldn't help thinking that Buttercup still hadn't said anything. Did she still hate me…? I sure hoped not…

************************

I was sweaty, it was dark…WHAT?! I sat bolt upright, and my head swam. I felt like I'd just come out of the washer. My hand went up to my throbbing head and rubbed it, and then I opened my eyes. I was in our bed, under the dark green blankets of my section, and the bedroom was dark and stuffy, only lit by the soft glow of a stupid, pink nightlight plugged into the wall. The windows were open to a clear, starry night, the distant skyscrapers of downtown Townsville sparkling, the crickets singing and the faint noise of cars echoing through the humid spring night air. I'd been asleep all day? WTF!

I wiped my sweaty face and threw off the covers, my whole body burning like a hot dog in the microwave. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, preparing to jump out, when I heard voices; my siblings' voices, and I heard my name in the mess of their panicked conversation. This was something I had to hear. It was time to be an actor; I plopped back down in bed and closed my eyes, yanking the blankets back over me. Just when my head hit the pillow, the doorknob squeaked and the bedroom door swung open, flooding the room with the light of the hallway. I froze, almost afraid to breathe, feeling the gazes of whoever just came into the room.

"He's not even awake yet!"

A voice burst out of the silence, almost making me flinch in surprise; it was Buttercup, sounding panicked and furious at the same time.

"Buttercup! Calm down!" Blossom's voice chided, uneasy yet aggressive. "He's sick; we have to let him sleep! You want him to get well, don't you?"

Buttercup groaned in frustration, and I pictured her yanking her hair out like I did in similar situations.

"He's not just sick!" Buttercup bellowed. "He's…he's…" She groaned again. "He's not himself!"

There was a moment's silence.

"What…?"

"Didn't you see the way he was acting; how he'd scream and stuff, then be all aggressive and weird, and then just collapse like he was dead! I know he's crazy, but he's never been that crazy!"

"Buttercup…uh, what do you..? What, are you saying this means something…? Or…"

"OF COURSE IT MEANS SOMETHING!" Buttercup sounded almost maniacal at this point. "THERE'S SOMETHING WACKED UP GOING ON! WHY AREN'T YOU LISTENING TO ME!?"

"Buttercup, I am listening…" Blossom's voice sounded tiny and quiet; she was probably intimidated by Buttercup's splendid performance.

"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T EVEN CARE!!"

I heard a zip and heavy footfalls, crashing out of the room; Buttercup was running away. I swore that behind the stream of profanities that was leaking from Buttercup's mouth, I heard some choked sobs, trying to be suppressed and fighting to break free.

"Buttercup…" Blossom's voice was no more than a whisper. Faint footsteps approached me; Blossom was walking over to the bed. Her soft hand touched me, stroking my sweaty forehead tenderly. Something was leaning on the bed; the springs were creaking.

"Buttercup really does like him…" I felt Blossom's fresh breath on my cheek as she spoke, murmuring to herself. Blossom got up off of the bed and walked quietly out of the room, shutting the door carefully behind her.

My eyes popped open again, dwelling on the conversation I'd just overheard. Buttercup really did like me?! This shone as my beacon of hope as my eyes closed again, and I let my drowsiness close over me.

**************************

Blackness was surrounding me, but it wasn't frightening; it enveloped me like a black, velvet cloak, keeping me safe from God knows what… I floated, basking in these warm, protecting, feelings of refuge… Safe at last, no evil feet could get anywhere near my groin…

Suddenly I felt a discomfort; a white hot stab of pain in my head, breaking into my peaceful sanctuary. What?! I felt it again; it was like somebody was ramming a flaming torch into my head, and it was burning up my brains. I jumped. Then it exploded, flooding into my whole body, enveloping me in agony. My body jerked, twisted, writhed…and I tried to yell, but no sound came out. I was gonna die…

The spiky haired boy's crazed emerald eyes popped open, and he sat bolt upright. He looked around; he was in a big bed, with four other kids, who were all sound asleep. The bedroom was dark except for the soft glow of a pink nightlight, and the air was heavy and sticky. The boy wiped dripping beads of sweat off of his face and wriggled out of bed, rolling onto the carpeted floor like a snake. He smirked, his eyes alight with a fanatical glow, and he crawled away, heading for the doorway of the bedroom; his quarry was elsewhere. Once he was out of the room, he got to his feet and tiptoed down the hall, moving as silently and quickly as possible, snickering to himself; a glint of scarlet flashed in his demented eyes. Creeping like a cat, he slunk into the kitchen. A crash and a little yelp both surprised and pleased the spiky haired boy, and he flung himself into the cabinet, hiding.

Peering through the crack in the cabinet door, he saw another boy, one with shaggy blonde hair and sapphire eyes. This blonde boy was staring at a cracked glass on the kitchen tile, looking horror-struck. Then the boy let out a small sob and carefully picked up the glass, kissing it lightly and setting it tenderly in the trash can under the sink. Wiping away a tear, he grabbed a new plastic cup from a shelf and filled it up with tap water. After it was full, he held it up to his mouth and sipped it daintily, his ocean blue eyes closed. Perfect.

The spiky haired boy leapt, throwing himself onto the blonde boy, who shrieked and dropped his cup, his face terrified. They landed heavily onto the floor with a crash; the spiky haired boy clamped his hand down on the blonde boy's mouth to stop him from shrieking and waking up the whole neighborhood. They struggled silently on the floor, the spiky haired boy punching, biting, and kicking like a mad tiger, and the blonde boy whimpering and straining to break free. The spiky haired boy knew he was winning; his flying fists and legs hit soft flesh every time they struck, and the blonde boy was crying and quickly weakening. The spiky haired boy let out a crazed laugh and slammed his victim into a cabinet with glass doors and filled with ceramics that rained down and shattered on the blonde boy's limp form. Soon there was blood everywhere; seeping out of the battered blonde boy, pooled on the tile floor, and splashed all over the walls and the cabinets. The spiky haired boy grinned triumphantly, seized half of a broken glass plate, and cut deep into the blonde boy's flesh with the sharp edge; he writhed and let out muffled screams. The red flash shone in his maniacal eyes again as he pressed harder, sliced deeper; he'd always wanted to know what someone's intestines looked like. Maybe like big, slimy worms. He cut deeper, the blonde boy shrieked and thrashed like mad. Deeper…deeper…deeper…