Chapter 44: The Wages of Sin (Part 3)

The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.

10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2147.

The fight at the Silver Age Cineplex in the Tenement Area had taken a lot out of Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. It wasn't quite over when they had gotten back home as their Dad had to patch them up, and that meant enduring stitches while sitting still like dolls. It was worse than fighting the bad guys as there was nothing they could do but to just take it lying down, and it was Dad doing the stitching. Even Blossom couldn't quite get the feeling out of her system that it was as if Dad was hurting them, even though she knew that it was exactly like taking a bitter pill to get better. Like how she had to drink water laced with painkillers occasionally.

Bubbles was the first to get the stitches, and she'd cried so profusely despite the stunning un-Bubbles-like display of berserk rage she'd put up to trash Naga like never before. Blossom had gone next - and her machete slash wounds required dozens upon dozens. Her gunshot wound was a separate, more painful matter. She tried with all her might not to cry as she knew that it might interfere with Dad's work, but she'd failed anyway. Even when the local anesthesia kicked in, it was still frightening.

It was only by her Dad's skill that it was over quickly. But even before that time, something else was on her mind.

Bubbles. And the realization of what she had done.

When the professor was done with her, he'd left her on a recovery bed next to Bubbles and gone away to work on Buttercup, who still had a sword stuck in her thigh, among other things.

Bubbles was still crying while she was recovering in the patient bed. It'd made Blossom feel terrible - as her leader, it was her responsibility to make sure they came out on top and in control, not half-dead after a close shave. It had also made her remember - and it made her remember well. Bubbles was half-naked in bed, and in pain and distress. It had mirrored that day in The Strip when she had tried to abandon her, even though she was miserable and had suffered in some way that Blossom didn't quite understand - all she knew was that Bubbles wouldn't cry for no reason.

"Bubbles," Blossom had called out to her poor sister.

"H-hmm?" Bubbles managed in between choking sobs.

"I'm sorry for what I did," Blossom had apologized. "I'm sorry I've been hitting you and making you cry. I'm sorry that I've been a terrible sister…" And she started sobbing too.

"Don't say that, Blossom," Bubbles had said.

"But I've been a terrible sister…" Blossom had stubbornly continued to berate herself.

"No, Blossom," Bubbles had met stubbornness with stubbornness. "Stop saying that. I'm happy to have a sister like you. I was always scared and weak and you were trying to help. You were always there for me. You protected me and played with me…"

Bubbles had said this, though, knowing that Blossom had slipped up more than once. She just didn't want Blossom to be sad and cry.

"I promise I won't hurt you again," Blossom said. "I promise…"

The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Abandoned)

18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1948.

Blossom couldn't help it any longer. She fought against Bubbles when she drew closer to death by asphyxiation. Bubbles made sure to press her fingers tighter against her neck. It was at this point that Blossom decided that it couldn't be this way - Bubbles shouldn't kill her. Dad would be upset. As narcissistic as it was, she couldn't let herself be killed for her sake, because she meant too much to Dad.

Blossom struggled and tried to scream for Bubbles to stop, but she could only manage a squeak. With diplomacy no longer an option, she gave her a double knee in the back, sending Bubbles flying forward and crashing face-first into the headboard of the heart-shaped bed, causing it to crack. Blossom took a welcoming deep gulp of air before flying off the dirty bed and facing Bubbles.

"Blossom, what are you doing!?" Bubbles screamed in disbelief and disappointment. "You're being selfish! Selfish!"

"I'm sorry, Bubbles. I can't die. Dad will be sad if I do-" Blossom said, but Bubbles interrupted her in a manic fit of rage.

"You'll die anyway!" Bubbles screamed. "And it's all your fault!"

Before Blossom could say another word, Bubbles launched forward, blindingly fast, throwing a right hook, which Blossom dodged.

"Bubbles, stop!" Blossom pleaded even as Bubbles continued assaulting her – following up with a left hook, then an upper-cut, all of which she dodged. She was getting backed into a corner, so she gave Bubbles a hard push while her guard was loose, sending her crashing into the heart-shaped bed. One of its legs gave way.

Bubbles didn't give Blossom time to even speak. She sat up growling at her, her eyes perpetually red – not just the pupils, but the white around it as well.

"We're sisters! We shouldn't be fighting!" Blossom tried to reason with Bubbles. Bubbles replied by charging at her and swiping at her with her nails. Blossom parried the first swipe, but felt Bubbles' nails jabbing into her side, though it was thankfully caught by a Kevlar plate, which she could feel was damaged as if shot by bullets.

Pushing Bubbles' arms away, Blossom jabbed at her face with her fist, motivated more by fear than self-defense, and it connected, drawing blood.

Bubbles stumbled back, clutching her face.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me…" Bubbles cried deliriously. "You promised!"

"I- I'm sorry," Blossom blubbered at what she had done – she never wanted to fight with her sister. Bubbles, however, was less than sorry, as she took the opportunity to charge at Blossom and deliver a left punch, screeching like a banshee as she did. Blossom was able to parry that punch, but it had only been a distraction: she could feel nails swiping across her left cheek, raking skin.

That was followed up by a punch to her stomach, which was excruciating. Blossom sunk to the ground, on one knee. Determined to make good on her intention to kill, Bubbles reached for Blossom's neck once. Blossom, however, did a quick-draw with her pistol and fired only to miss when Bubbles slapped it away, the pistol tumbling far away, before reaching for her neck again. Blossom countered by grabbing Bubbles by her wrists.

Bubbles pushed with all her might, and she was winning before Blossom pushed back, trying to stand back up, only for Bubbles to compensate with a kind of strength unnatural even for an enhanced individual. The ground began cracking as a result, as if a sinkhole was forming. Blossom head-butted Bubbles in the teeth in an attempt to free herself, only to make her mad with the spilled blood in her mouth an afterthought for both of them. Frustrated and feeling cracks in her very psyche, Bubbles lunged at Blossom, sinking her teeth into her neck and biting down hard.

Blossom screamed in pain, but the same pain had given her strength. Forcing herself to her feet, she shoved a thumb into Bubbles eye to get her to release her jaws, and when she did, Blossom jabbed her in the side with a side-kick to create some distance before giving her the hardest upper-cut she could manage, throwing Bubbles across the room.

The leader of The Three stumbled back, clutching her neck. Blood was spilling from her neck. She could feel that her skin and flesh were torn.

Bubbles, crazed as she was and riled up by the taste of her sister's blood, scrambled on the floor and got on all fours. She snarled at Blossom like an animal, with her blood all over her mouth and cheeks, before flying up and crawling away at a shocking speed on the ceiling into the darkness.

Seeing her sister like this had scared the living daylights out of Blossom. Was this really the work of her BerXerker power going out of whack? Blossom wasn't sure anymore.

Although her chest felt like a prepubescent heart attack waiting to happen, Blossom inched her way towards the door, still determined to bring Bubbles back. In her mind, it was the only thing to do.

"Bubbles?" Blossom called out, anxiously searching the ceiling with her eyes, which she had lit up like lanterns. "I know you're-" the pain in her neck felt like it was getting worse with every second. It was slick with blood, and her uniform felt wet from both perspiration and blood. "I know you're mad at me but… can't we just talk?"

Blossom continued searching the ceiling as she walked out the red room and closed the door. Bubbles was nowhere to be found. A kind of disabling fear shot up in Blossom; she had a feeling that she might have run away again. That would mean she had to search for her all over Townsville again.

"Bubbles… please…" Blossom struggled to even speak. Giving up on the ceiling, she looked down – only for Bubbles to be there, rushing up to her and tackling her, throwing her through the door she had just closed with a loud crash.

"Urgggh!" Blossom screamed as she was sent rolling, but she managed to roll herself into a kneeling position and feeling desperate, charged up her heat beam for a quick shot and fired – only for Bubbles to grab her by the jaw and push her beam out of the way. With a hand on her collar, Bubbles slammed Blossom against the wall, still keeping her heat beam, which was gushing out fiercely, out of the way.

"Stop shooting!" Bubbles demanded, and when Blossom refused to, she slammed her head against the wall and made a hole in it.

"No!" Blossom screamed her defiance as she stubbornly continued to try to lower her gaze - but Bubbles was too strong and she was in a compromised position. Her face was so glowing hot that her skull was showing through. Her tears of pain and sadness boiled, forming thin, white wisps emanating from her eyes. Bubbles slammed Blossom's back through the wall this time and a second time when the heat beam continued to burn the ceiling, providing an ominous red glow to compliment the only working source of light in the room.

Blossom panted from exhaustion. The glow in her face quickly disappeared. Her skull had gone back into hiding.

"Why, Bubbles?" she muttered, her entire body flaring up in pain. "I… I apologized and… I thought w-we've…"

Bubbles interrupted Blossom by putting her index finger on her bloody lips. "Shh…" she hushed her up.

Bubbles' drugs had run its course, but her 'BerXerker' fury was strong as ever. For once, there was some clarity in her head even as she was panting with exertion herself.

"I guess I've never forgiven you," Bubbles replied, the growl in her voice gone. Blossom had stopped panting. The hellish red glow eventually disappeared too. "But… It wasn't because of that, Blossom, and I'm sorry."

"Wha… What… do you mean?" Blossom asked. She could feel herself slipping away. She had lost a lot of blood and spent too much Chemical X, and it was on top of the operations of the day. The back of her head felt like a broken light bulb and her back was burning as if slathered with acid.

Bubbles looked away. She looked like she had a lot going on in her mind - too much for a little girl, too much for the most innocent of The Three. It'd made Blossom worried. What in Dad's name is going on? It was as if the more she uncovered, the more she didn't know. It was like trying to unearth a pyramid.

"You wouldn't understand," Bubbles simply said, before returning her sad, regretful gaze on Blossom. She raised a fist at her while she was still keeping her pinned on the wall. But she held it there as if deciding. Pearls of tears and rivulets of sweat streamed down her cheeks when she realized how close she was to doing it, washing away Blossom's blood on her cheeks. Her fist faltered. "You've never understood me when you should have."

And Bubbles' internal conflict had saved her. Flashlights shone in from outside the red room.

"Blossom, Bubbles?" A voice rang out, strong and deep, in the abandoned building.

"Mister Mullens!" Blossom called out. Bubbles noticed too late but tried to cover her mouth anyway. She was caught red-handed when multiple beams of light converged on her.

"Bubbles - Jesus, what did you do!?" a female voice questioned, agitated. Shocked. It was Olivia.

Bubbles felt shame overcoming her, though it didn't last long. Her eyes went from baby blue to hellish red again. Her frustrations and anger were magnified ten-fold, and before that, it was barely bearable.

"Whar have you done?" a dog's voice spoke. "Rur-rles…"

Bubbles growled before the dog did.

"Bubbles - don't!" Blossom screamed when she realized what Bubbles was going to do. Letting go of her, Bubbles flew at Mullens' group, none of whom fired a single shot. Mullens was punched in the chest and knocked out of the way, slamming against the door. She tackled Olivia and sent her crashing into a wall outside. Stanley Talker had ducked out of the way, slinking into the shadows.

Bubbles, panting, turned around. With the poison in her blood triggered, her willingness to kill returned. She glared at Blossom, who was sitting against the wall, still clutching her neck. Half her uniform was redder than pink.

The drug-crazed little girl walked up to her, intent on finishing the job. But before she could reach her, Stanley Talker emerged out of the shadows, jumping in front of Blossom, illuminated by the injured little girl's eye-light and the singular lamp in the room. He growled at Bubbles.

"Rrrr… Step back, Rur-rles!" Stanley Talker warned, the hostile growl in his voice clear, primal, and his fangs were bared. "Ri consider you ra friend - Ri ron't want to hurt ryou!"

"Get out of the way!" Bubbles hollered at the talking dog.

"No!" Talker defied her stubbornly. Bubbles came a few steps closer, before breaking into a run. Stanley Talker jumped at her and bit her in the arm when she raised a fist at him. Blossom could feel it on the floor - the talking dog's pounce was powerful. So powerful that he actually floored Bubbles, and he stood over her, snarling and growling as he hung onto Bubbles' forearm stubbornly, his teeth digging into her flesh, drawing blood. Bubbles screamed, but not in the usual innocent way.

Bubbles punched Stanley Talker in the eye in response - and when he wouldn't let go, she'd done so multiple times until he did, cracking his canine ballistic goggles, even the side of his helmet. Throwing the talking dog off her, she gave him a hard kick and flipped herself into a crouching position. Stanley Talker whimpered. Blossom saw that Bubbles had done some cruel damage to his eye, which had swollen shut - half the dog's face was irregular in shape and mutilated.

Still, Talker hung on and tried to snap at Bubbles once more - only for Bubbles to seize him by the forelegs and hurl him into a wall - hard. There was a loud thump of flesh on concrete, and the concrete cracked with a loud crunch… though the concrete wasn't the only thing cracking and crunching.

"Mister Talker!" Blossom shouted, still in tears, shocked that Bubbles had continued to lash out at friends and family. The talking dog did not get up after getting thrown halfway through the concrete wall. At least, it wasn't for a lack of trying. He was able to drag himself a foot or two away from the wall before falling and rolling on his back, trembling and whimpering in pain.

Bubbles was clutching her arm in the meantime. Inspecting it, she saw deep puncture marks, made by Stanley Talker's teeth, going around in a half-oval pattern. Bubbles gritted her teeth, not just in pain, but in anger and betrayal.

She came up to Stanley Talker.

"You've been a very bad dog," Bubbles said, dispassionate, seething with hatred.

"Rur-rles…" the talking dog whimpered; every word spoken had to be paid for with pain. "H-have… mercy…"

"Mercy? Mercy is for the weak!" Bubbles screamed madly.

"Y-your… father rould be… dis…sappointed…" Stanley managed to say between labored breaths. "I… knew him since… Ri wassa pup…"

The mention of her father had caught Bubbles' attention. The reason why she could even comprehend the word 'mercy' was because of her Dad. He had taken great pains to teach her the concept. The mere memory of it had calmed her down, her eyes returning to a soft, friendly baby blue.

"Dad…" Bubbles mumbled.

"Bubbles, don't do it… He's your friend," Blossom had crawled up to her and hold her hand. "We can work things out as sisters. Please, let me try."

The rapid thumping of a helicopter's rotor blades could be heard outside. There were more footsteps in the distance.

"Please…" Blossom pleaded. Bubbles looked down, for once without hatred in her eyes, but regret.

"Blossom!?" someone shouted from somewhere in the building, close by. It was a male voice. Seasoned. "Bubbles!?"

A man in black gear and armor emerged in the doorway. More of them swarmed behind him. Some started helping Olivia up.

It was Mister Blake. The men behind him were Agent Fields and Sergeant Holliday.

"Bubbles – what did you do!?" Blake echoed Olivia's words without knowing it. "Did you do all this? Tell me you didn't."

"I did…" Bubbles admitted – too tired of hiding to lie any further. Regret was coming up in full force. She had done things she would never have done otherwise, and she had caused a lot of damage as a result.

Blake entered the room to inspect the damage. Stanley Talker was incapacitated and no longer very talkative. In fact, he was silent, concentrating solely on heaving his breaths and panting. His tongue hung out, limp, as though he no longer even have the strength to lift it. Blossom was a mess, and she looked like she was dry of blood.

"Medic! Get over here!" Sergeant Holliday ordered. Two men rushed over immediately.

"Holy hell, isn't this a bit much for a little sibling rivalry?" Corporal Zach, one of the attending medics, commented. Setting down a first aid kit, he began checking Blossom's bite wound.

"We're going to have to report this," Agent Fields said to his commander. "We'll have to take Bubbles in for this."

Agent Blake stared at Bubbles, who was looking down at her boots, unable to face anyone for what she had done. As if considering that option. And seriously, too.

Blossom had been listening. She didn't like the sound of it.

Two men, Sergeant Holliday, and Private Jessup, came forward, guns up. Holliday had an M9 Anti-Material Rifle, Duranium-barrelled.

"Sorry, Bubbles," Holliday apologized even as he was pointing his Girl-killer gun at her. Bubbles' eyes turned red. "I want your hands up now."

"Wait, no! Please!" Blossom could barely stand up, but she'd ran to shield her sister from the men. "Please don't take Bubbles away!"

"Guys, wait just a second," Blake said, gesturing for them to back off.

"But sir-" Agent Fields objected.

"Just wait!" Agent Blake repeated his order. "I didn't give any orders just yet!"

"Don't, Mister Blake!" Blossom pleaded for her sister. "It's my fault this happened – please don't take my sister away because of me. She's sorry too, right, Bubbles?"

Blossom turned around to look at Bubbles, but she didn't respond at all to what she said. Didn't so much as a nod.

"Your father needs to know," Blake simply nodded, and as he was looking down, unsure of himself anymore as if searching the dirty, bloody floor for a sign, he continued: "I'm going to have to inform him-"

"Please don't tell Dad!" Blossom pleaded. Blake stared hard into Blossom's pink, glowing eyes, searching them just like how he did it with the floor. "He'll be mad at Bubbles and… and it'll be my fault."

Blake appeared stock-still, thinking. Blossom couldn't see past the poker face he'd put up, even when his aviator shades were taken off for the night. She hated it whenever Blake became impenetrable - even though he was rarely this way. It was so not who he was, at least that was Blossom's impression of him.

"Tell you what," he finally said. "I'll leave it up to you. Tell him if you're feeling honest enough. Don't, if you think it's good for Bubbles. You're the smart one," Blake said.

"Does that mean you won't take Bubbles away?" Blossom asked, still concerned, still wearing that anxious look on her face, something which Blake found he couldn't stand. As unmarried as he was in his forties, as childless, it was something he thought should be foreign in a child's face.

"No, I won't take her away," Blake reassured Blossom.

"But sir, what about-" Agent Fields was about to advice against it, but Blake wouldn't hear about it.

"My decision's made. Now listen up!" Blake projected his voice his time, calling to attention everyone in the room. Not just Fields, not just Blossom, and Bubbles, but his inner circle as well as Mullens and Olivia, who were just recovering from getting thrown about like ragdolls by Bubbles. "Nothing happened here. Bubbles got upset. She ran away. It took us a long time, but we found her. We live happily ever after. End of story."

Happily ever after… Those words had never sounded more hollow to Bubbles than it ever was. Agent Blake then turned to Blossom.

"You make sure you keep your wounds a secret from everyone except your family, you understand?" Blake ordered her. Blossom thought he looked mad. She almost wanted to ask if he was, but she decided not to in the end, afraid that she would find out it was true.

"Yes…" Blossom obeyed subserviently.

"Now come on, let's get the both of you patched up and home for dinner," Blake said. Everything was a blur to Blossom after that, as she was stuck in her own mind, trying to get a grip and accept what had happened between her and Bubbles, trying to accept that Bubbles had basically just tried to kill her in a deserted place. When she was out of the moment, it quickly dawned on her that it was a twisted affair. Corporal Zach was able to get them bandaged up quick and orderly, and before they knew it, they were led to Blake's Chinook. Had it been any other circumstance, Blossom and Bubbles would have marveled at the insides of the giant helicopter.

Detective Garrett Mullens and Olivia Mullens were left behind. Stanley Talker was checked on by Corporal Zach, and found to be stable, but in need of a doctor - or veterinarian. The senior, however, didn't get the crew to go home immediately. He'd stayed to light up, much to the concern of the daughter.

He lit a cigarette as he paced the room Blossom or Bubbles nearly died in. He started poking around, his motive a mystery even to Olivia.

"What are you doing, dad?" Olivia finally cracked and asked when she'd had enough of watching her dad strutting around, seemingly without purpose, smoking even though he quit a month and a half ago.

"This isn't the first time Bubbles acted this way," Detective Mullens explained. "Back at the stables, she took off just like she did today. Next thing we know, there's a stiff John Doe who turns out to be a USDO agent, and Townsville's very own Charles Manson got to laugh his way to… God knows where."

"What does that have anything to do with this?" Olivia asked, still clueless.

"I asked Blossom's father about the drugs that's been turning up all over Townsville," Detective Mullens continued. "He's all but told me that Bubbles is connected somehow, even if he doesn't know it, not yet."

The detective had been very careful where he was stepping, and down on the floor, he could see scuff marks. The Girls were herculean in strength, and it was easy for them to leave traces of their presence around. He'd spotted one - though it was still faint enough that even gifted police officers like his daughter could miss. The trail led under a bed, so he got down on his knees and peeked under there, bringing out his flashlight to see better.

Sure enough, there was a metal syringe there, likely slid out of view by one of the Girls.