A/N: This one took longer than usual, even with my newfound writing speed. But then again, it is slightly longer than the average chapter here.

Chapter 135: Any Way the Wind Blows

The City of Townsville. Tenements. Unknown.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 2105.

Buttercup had spent the past hour sitting by the fire, leaning against the brick wall just like the nameless bum who had 'rescued' her. She would take a sip of his mineral water once in a while, but the quietness, the warmth of the fire, and her own exhaustion was lulling her to sleep.

Time flew by. Buttercup's eyelids drooped until it closed eventually. Darkness took over for a while, but as if it was but an instant, she felt someone nudging her in the leg. She sat up, so alarmed she pulled her pistol out. Looking up, wide-eyed, she saw another stranger.

And he was strangely familiar.

The man had a brown complexion. He wore a strange headband with tribal patterns on it. A few feathers were stuck on one side. The man's jacket was similarly quaint, though he did wear a T-shirt underneath it, as well as a pair of blue denim jeans and tall cowboy boots. It was the features of his face that were reminiscent of… something. Still reeling from her experience out in the streets, still exhausted, Buttercup couldn't quite connect the dots. He had a goatee, and there was a certain… sly look on his face.

"Odd place for a young girl to be in, is it not?" the Amerindian-looking man said in a voice that was somewhat deep and masculine, but not quite.

"Who are you?" Buttercup asked the stranger. The bum by her side knelt before him as if worshipping him, or showing respect to some noble king.

"Tell me, do you remember your dreams?" the Amerindian man said cryptically, but the fact that he mentioned something about her dreams told her everything. "Those dreams about a certain red man and a dead cat?"

"How did you know about my dreams?" Buttercup asked, like a kid who had just watched a magic show unfold.

The strange man stayed silent and merely smiled down at Buttercup. It was on that basis that she decided to follow him, even holding hands with him as he led her out of the alley and into the streets. They walked and walked, they walked for some time. At one point, a pair of police officers walking the beat had passed them by, and for some reason, they didn't notice Buttercup at all, even though they had noticed the stranger she was holding hands with. They'd even told him to stay safe and get indoors soon.

The police officers had even looked Buttercup in the eyes and not noticed that she was a runaway enhanced individual armed to the teeth and possessing the power to kill hundreds, if not thousands, of people if she wanted to. Were they really that stupid? As much as the rogue Powerpuff wanted to believe that, she couldn't help but suspect that the stranger had something to do with it.

It would take another twenty or thirty minutes before the pair would reach their destination. It was a roadside establishment, slightly run-down but functional and appealing enough to attract patrons from the surrounding poor.

There was no singular signboard to shout the name of the establishment. Instead, two separate signboards did the job: 'Otto Time', one read while mounted on an old-fashioned clock. 'Diner', the other completed the name.

It was a diner, built in the style of those from the 60s, resembling a chrome bus.

The Amerindian man dug into his pockets as the pair stopped outside the locked door of the diner. It was closed, as emphasized by the 'closed' sign on the see-through entrance, but the lights inside were still on.

"What are we doing here?" Buttercup asked her new acquaintance. Or was he even new? Buttercup could have sworn she knew him somehow. Was there a dream she had forgotten about?

"Patience, kiddy," the owner-apparent of the diner said as he finally managed to fish out the keys and unlock the entrance. Ushering Buttercup inside, he locked it up again, and not just that; he pulled some curtains shut to block the view at the entrance from the outside.

Coming up to the stools at the counter of the diner, the stranger picked Buttercup up, completely effortlessly despite the heavy gear she was packing, and placed her on one of the stools before sitting on an adjacent one himself.

"So why did you bring me here?" Buttercup asked again, this time with a tone more impatient than usual.

"Hush now, kiddy. Isn't it better here than it is in that stinking alley?" the Amerindian man said, face still firm, but with a slight smile.

"I guess…" Buttercup conceded.

"I see a little girl who needs shelter, and I'm giving it to her," he said. "There's a word for that: altruism. Do you know anyone who would do that for you?"

Buttercup struggled with the question, giving out a series of 'urs' and 'urms'.

"My Dad?" she said, though the uncertainty in her voice had made her answer questionable.

"If that is true, why are you out here?" he said. "There's no one who would be so… kind, so… generous… to you, yes? If I were to venture to guess, you look like the type who's been… neglected by your family."

"I hate my family!" Buttercup suddenly exploded, but the Amerindian remained stoic; he didn't even jump when the potentially deadly enhanced little girl vented her rage. "They're a bunch of big fat liars! They're not even my real family!"

Before Buttercup could continue, something else exploded. Buttercup's stomach growled loudly. Her hunger pangs intensified, even become painful. Previously, it had only been uncomfortable and nauseating at most, masked by the wonder that was her chance meeting with her new acquaintance.

"Hungry?" he asked rhetorically. Buttercup groaned.

"Yeah, and I had cookies and chocolate for dinner…" she moaned while holding her stomach. "I don't feel so good."

"Well, allow me to solve that problem right away," the Amerindian man said. He got off his stool, went around the long counter to the opposite side, taking the place of the waiter and facing Buttercup. "How about a few good flapjacks? Everyone likes my flapjacks even if they're a little expensive."

"I killed a woman when a man asked me to pay for his stuff," Buttercup said sternly, half-threateningly to her new acquaintance. It had been a close call, that moment in the sundry shop, and she hated being reminded of it.

"Oh, don't worry," the man said candidly as he smiled while leaning forward closer to Buttercup, such that their faces were close. "I'm a very, very generous man. It's on the house this time. So… how about the classic maple syrup and banana, or do you want something with strawberry and chocolate on top of it?"

"Urgh, no more chocolate for me! Give me the maple syrup and banana!" Buttercup ordered her meal impatiently.

"Maple syrup and banana flapjacks, coming right up!" the man said. Pulling an apron off from below the counter, he wore it, tying the sash around his back. It was pink, with the words 'KISS THE COOK' printed across the chest, which Buttercup found disgusting. She wouldn't have to suffer it for long, however, as he'd marched off into the kitchen within a second.

The City of Townsville. Tenements. Otto Time Diner.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 2149.

Buttercup watched as the Amerindian chef set about preparing her a meal, what was essentially breakfast for supper. She watched as he turned the heat on, waited and then layered his pan with oil and poured batter on it. He pulled off a spatula from the wall and flipped the first half-baked flapjack around.

The smell was mouth-watering. Tempting. It looked just as good too. Nothing was being charred. Buttercup's new acquaintance had timed everything perfectly, with machine precision.

Buttercup was mesmerized. All she could do, then, was just to watch, as one flapjack was done after the next. Soon, there was a stack of three on a plate, which the flapjack expert then complete with a fair helping of maple syrup and butter.

Picking it up, the stranger set it down before Buttercup, who hadn't snapped out of it yet, her eyes following the plate of well-made flapjacks, then the stranger. There was something about him, something that went beyond an odd familiarity, and Buttercup found it alluring.

She continued watching as the stranger poured her a glass of orange juice and set that down before her too.

She'd only snapped out of it when the stranger snapped his fingers right in front of her face.

"Aren't you going to tuck in?" he said candidly.

Without a word, Buttercup sliced herself a piece with her fork with trembling fingers. Stabbing the piece, she dabbed it in some of the syrup before putting it in her mouth. An explosion of taste took her by surprise.

She couldn't resist beaming at her savior-chef. She chewed hungrily, accidentally swallowing it prematurely, but she didn't care. She began cutting up more pieces and eating more and more of it. The pieces grew larger and larger. It didn't take long for Buttercup to devour all three flapjacks and drain the glass of orange juice.

"Satisfied?" he asked, once more rhetorically. His smile told Buttercup that he already knew the answer. She simply nodded sheepishly, something she hadn't done since forever.

"What's your name?" Buttercup finally asked. It was a question that had been at the back of her head since she met him, but hadn't found a reason to ask until now. "And how did you know about my dreams?"

"Well, just like the dead cat, I am a friend of his, of… Him," the man said, before sticking out his hand in greeting. "I am known by the name Red Coyote. Pleased to meet you."

Buttercup stuck her hand out and took Red Coyote's, as was taught by her 'Dad'. What she didn't expect was Red Coyote pulling her hand closer to him and kissing it in the back. She couldn't decide if it was weird or disgusting, though, for some reason, she didn't mind it as much. Red Coyote looked up at her, smiling slyly. Buttercup pulled her hand back, weirded out by this exchange.

"What kind of name is Red Coyote?" Buttercup asked brusquely, a little mad that she had been given a name that seemed fake.

"My real name is too long and too… foreign. Red Coyote will do," he explained. "And you? What's your name?"

"You don't know my name?" Buttercup asked, incredulous that this man could know about her dreams without knowing her name. Even the most random person on the streets of Townsville would know who she was just by watching the news or reading the newspaper. "You're joking!"

"Humor me," the man simply said, this time a little serious.

"I'm Buttercup Uto-" she was in the middle of introducing herself when she stopped.

"Dead cat caught your tongue?" Red Coyote jested, leaning on an arm with his face in his hand as he smiled mockingly at Buttercup.

"I'm just Buttercup," she corrected herself. She remembered 'Dad's explanation for her name. Even 'Buttercup' as her most often-used name wasn't particularly desirable. 'Dad' had called her that simply because it'd started with a B, even when he could come up with better thought-out names for her sisters. Utonium, on the other hand, was 'the family name', as 'Dad' described, something that had existed since hundreds of years ago, something that she knew now to be a bunch of baloney. She had seen his real name on the photo he'd hidden in his desk, and the documents he kept.

Red Coyote chuckled, something that angered Buttercup greatly.

"Hey! What's so funny!?" Buttercup yelled.

"Nothing. Are you sure that's your true name?" Red Coyote said cryptically. Buttercup had dismissed it as just another joke at first, but it sunk in almost immediately that he was right to question it. If 'Dad' was a lie and so was her family, then it meant that her name was a lie, too. It meant that she was nameless.

"No… But I guess it's better than 'B-48' or 'Bravo-Four-Eight'," Buttercup said, crudely imitating the radio voice that had so often called her by those codenames. She couldn't help but feel glum all of a sudden.

"You poor, poor thing," Red Coyote said with more emotions in his voice than before. He reached for Buttercup's hands, clasping them in his own. Buttercup didn't pull her hands away this time. "You know, if it'd make you feel better, my people believe that we are all born with a name…"

"Really?" Buttercup said though she didn't really believe what Red Coyote said. She had been fooled too many times, and it wasn't the first time she had been lied to in the name of making her feel better.

"Yes, and more," Red Coyote smiled. "It is my people's belief that all children, even those without parents, and even those not of the tribe, are the responsibility of everyone in the tribe."

"Good, because I don't have a family," Buttercup said. Red Coyote had reminded her of everything she had found out about her 'family' and 'home', fanning the flame of anger and rebellion in her.

"What about your parents? Your sisters?" Red Coyote asked. "Humor me."

"Daddy lied to me. He's not my real Dad. And Mom…" Buttercup said. "Mom's not real too, I guess, but 'Dad' killed her. He doesn't care about me, and neither does Blossom or Bubbles…"

"I guess that just leaves me now, does it?" Red Coyote suggested, smiling.

"Even though I just met you, but it feels as though I… I-"

"That we've met before?" Red Coyote said, and the gleam in his eyes suggested that he had an explanation for that too. "There's a spiritual link between us, between you, me, the Red Man, and the dead cat. We're a family even before you've met your… Dad."

"I'd rather be here than stay in that house anyway," Buttercup said, crossing her arms as she frowned, bad memories periodically surfacing.

"You're welcome," Red Coyote said. "There's space for you here, but before we celebrate, there's something I'd like to show you."

With that, Red Coyote led Buttercup to the backroom, where fetishes and various Amerindian ornaments were hanging from the ceiling and shelves. There was a circle drawn on the floor. Runes formed the circumference of the circle. Lit candles, half-exhausted but still standing strong, stood at the center. There was a long smoking pipe sitting by the circle. Buttercup stood at the doorway of the backroom, watching with mild interest but mainly confusion. Red Coyote removed his apron, jacket, shirt, and shoes before sitting down in one corner of the circle. He waved a hand at the spot where Buttercup was meant to sit.

"Remove your earthly burdens and sit before me," Red Coyote said. Buttercup understood immediately, even though she wasn't sure how she did. Perhaps it was the strange familiarity exuding from Red Coyote, or perhaps it was just the example he had set before her.

Buttercup proceeded to remove her stolen leather jacket, her armor, and weapons. She unbuttoned the top of her green military fatigue and removed it, leaving only the singlet underneath. Following Red Coyote's direction, she sat before him, crossing her legs Amerindian-style just like he did.

Picking up the smoking pipe, Red Coyote struck a match and lit it up. He gave it time to burn before taking in a lungful of the smoke. When Red Coyote blew the smoke out, Buttercup noticed that it was darker than normal, almost black. What the smoke actually was, Buttercup had no idea, but it didn't matter: Red Coyote had proven himself to be trustworthy.

"Here, Breathe in the shadow-ether," Red Coyote instructed the enhanced little girl, handing the long smoking pipe to her.

It was almost as long as her MP5 submachinegun. Holding it by one end, she sucked in the smoke, tried to do what he did, only to retch and cough uncontrollably, dropping the pipe. She thought she might have even swallowed some of it. In the meantime, she'd caught a glimpse of Red Coyote. He was shaking his head as he leaned forward to take the pipe.

"Here, let me help you," he said as he gently stuck it into Buttercup's mouth again once she had calmed down. "Do not swallow. Breathe through your mouth as if you're breathing in air."

Buttercup did as she was told. The funny thing was, it wasn't as if she didn't know what to do. Red Coyote's voice, she'd found, was soothing for some reason.

"Good. Now breathe out as you would breathe out air," Red Coyote instructed. Buttercup blew out the dark smoke, the 'Shadow-Ether', and as she did, her vision was blurring, and she was feeling lightheaded.

"Very good, little girl," Red Coyote said. "Now close your eyes and listen to my words."

Ordinarily, Buttercup would have rebelled against the idea of being told what to do. Not this time, however. There was something about Red Coyote, and there'd been something with him for a while, since the beginning. Was it a sign that he truly was the family that she'd been missing?

"Look behind your eyes, behind the brain that governs your thoughts. Look behind this material plane, and beyond," Red Coyote said as if he was reading off some obscure scripture, his voice a monotone. "Look beyond the ground and the sky, look beyond the very sheets of material of this world itself."

There was nothing at all. Buttercup had shut her eyes tight, but all she could see was the blackness of her eyelids. How she was supposed to 'look behind her eyes', she had no idea. Red Coyote began chanting after that, and Buttercup wasn't sure if it was in English. He repeated himself, and she would try again to do what she said. This would go on for a few more rounds before...

It happened.

It was like getting sent through a black hole or a wormhole, except Buttercup had no concept of it. Soon, she'd arrived at a strange place, a red place she had seen before in her dream, back when the dead cat was walking away from her.

She flew across the reddish landscape of dunes and rocks at speeds faster than she could ever manage. Soon, tribal camps came into view, and she saw, just briefly, that they were filled with people in white cloth and robes. Among huts and mud abodes were tall white structures reminiscent of Egyptian architecture. She would pass by several of those at her speed, and other things would capture her attention as well as those quaint cities did. Trees with Duranium leaves stood amongst more numerous trees filled with spikes in place of leaves, gnarled and twisted and tortured, their trunks dark as if charred.

Rivers of Chemical X-like fluid ran in tiny streams, once again, amongst normal rivers of water that Buttercup could briefly smell. It wasn't the kind of water she would drink, as it smelled of sulfur.

Up ahead was a tall structure, a spire that reached into the evil heavens of red, orange, and yellow above, with a base as wide as Townsville itself, where a sea of huts and tents surround it. These slums teemed with the same life that could be found further into the 'wilderness'.

Buttercup found herself hurtling towards some kind of a gate in the spire, and before she was thrown into it, she saw… creatures in the horizon, what looked like black jellyfishes the size of blimps, and lobster-like creatures that would put monster trucks to shame in terms of bulk. Worms that looked like they were made of Chemical-X swirled in the air, flying by unknown means. They were more dragons than worms if dragons had no arms and legs and wings, but they appeared huge, larger than some clouds.

Even with her natural psychotic immunity to troubling things, Buttercup was frightened by everything she saw, but she didn't have to see for much longer, for within moments, she was thrown through the gates of the spire and into darkness.

Unknown Location

Unknown Date

Buttercup lit up her eyes like flashlights, shining them here and there in an attempt to make out the features of the room she was in if it could be considered a room. Behind her, the gates she was thrown through were shut as if on their own, plunging her into total darkness.

The floor was rocky, not unlike a cave, except it was dark-colored, like charcoal or shale. It seemed as if there were no walls or ceilings. There were just shadows everywhere. Buttercup was afraid to move. The lack of any landmark or features in the 'room' made getting lost all too likely.

That was until a pair of red eyes lit up in the dark, and it started getting closer and closer until Buttercup could see the Red Man in his fullest form, towering over her more so than human beings, bulkier than the best bodybuilders there ever were, and with a fashion sense completely out of sync with the rest of the world, or at least the world Buttercup knew.

An arm ending with crab-like claws reach out to her. Buttercup shrank away from it. Before the Red Man pursued her any further, He curled his claws out to divide them into claw-fingers.

"Don't be afraid, shadowkin," the Red Man said in a voice that was a cross between feminine and masculine, even swaying from one side to another. "You're home now, and from what I learn in that blue world, 'home is where the heart is'."

The Red Man extended his now-five claw-fingers towards Buttercup once again. Looking at what looked like a deathtrap for a hand, Buttercup hesitated. But she decided in the end that she wasn't going to be hurt. Often times, if she was going to be hurt, she would be hurt immediately, or at least whoever was doing the hurting would try to do so as quickly as they could. The Red Man meant her no harm, or at least, that was what Buttercup tried to believe in.

It was rare that Buttercup was ever timid, and this was one of those times. And so, timidly, Buttercup reached out for the claw-fingers and took the death-trap hand. She was immediately pulled to her feet, and there was so much strength behind the pull that she knew it was effortless to the Red Man. As naive as Buttercup was, she could recognize from this that the Red Man was enhanced like her. She knew because she was resisting the pull, an action that would have pulled an average man towards her instead.

"Are you…" Buttercup's sentence trailed off even before it got going. "Are you… my new friend? The one they've been talking about?"

"No," the Red Man said, and watched as Buttercup's expression changed to one of confusion before he went on: "I'm better. I'm your new family. Your new father, your keeper. I am everything you don't have… Yes… Yes… It's good to finally meet you."

Buttercup smiled, liking what she heard. 'Dad' was nothing; a weakling, a coward who was never on the frontlines. To Buttercup, 'Dad' was an oppressor who lied to her, who had accused her of things she never did and punishing her for it, someone who gave her nothing and took away the few things she held dear, such as her powers, such as… Mom. The being before her, on the other hand, appeared anything but weak and cowardly.

"I know exactly what you want, shadowkin," the Red Man said before going down on a knee and putting an arm around Buttercup. "And I can give you whatever you want."

"Really?" Buttercup said, almost squealing with excitement and joy. Finally, someone who saw eye-to-eye with her!

"Yes, really," the Red Man promised.

"Do I get to fight more often?" Buttercup asked.

"In due time, yes," the Red Man said.

"Do I get to mess up anyone I want?" Buttercup asked again.

"In due time, yes," the Red Man said.

"And what about eating whatever I want?" Buttercup asked once more. "And my own bike?"

"Yes, yes, in due time," the Red Man said with a fleeting hint of irritation.

"But what do you mean 'in due time'?" Buttercup added to her list of questions. "Can't I get those things now?

"That's because there are other things I can give you, things I want to give you first…" the Red Man offered. "I'm very sure that these are things you crave… Without knowing it…"

"Yeah? Like what?" Buttercup said and meant it as a kind of challenge.

"How would vengeance against your former family sit with you?" the Red Man said. "I know exactly how you can get back at them, and I know how to make it soooo utterly painful…"

"That… That would be awesome!" Buttercup said, impressed, completely sold on the idea. "But how, exactly?"

"Be as close to them as you can be," the Red Man instructed.

"What? But why?"

"Be the greatest daughter and sister in the world, be something they can never do without. Be so good to them that the very thought of leaving you for a second is torture… and when the time comes…" the Red Man explained with a sly smile. "You shatter their world into a million tiny pieces…"

Buttercup smiled at the idea. She was already imagining Blossom's reaction when she finally stabs her in the back during a crucial moment, after months, maybe even years, of feeding her some bullshit fairytale of the perfect sisterhood.

"And just in case you're wondering where you'll go and where you belong…" the Red Man continued as Buttercup was musing about betraying her sisters, and 'Dad'. "You belong to me. You've always belonged to me. Your home is here, where it's always been. Do you accept?"

Buttercup's eyes fell to the charred floor. Everything she had ever known had been slowly falling apart like a sandcastle built too close to the waves. The Red Man's offer was too enticing. Who better to be her father than someone as powerful as the Red Man?

"Yes," Buttercup agreed.

"Good… Good…" the Red Man said as he pinned his eyes on Buttercup so intensely that even she, the toughest and roughest of the Powerpuff Girls, had to look away. "We're a family now, as it should be."

"D-do I call you Daddy, then?" Buttercup asked.

"Oh, I won't bother standing on ceremony," the Red Man said. "But my true name is impossible for you to speak, what with the crude lips and throat they've shackled you with. We'll go with something simple. You're allowed to call me 'Him', as those who know me tend to. A fitting word, that one-syllable thing; a simple word for simple minds."

"Him… Him…" Buttercup tried speaking the word a couple of times. It didn't escape her that it was a commonly-used pronoun used to refer to men. It was quite ironic really, considering that Him's attire and half his voice weren't exactly typical of men. But something else soon occupied her mind. "But what about my revenge? When will I have it?"

"Oh, you poor, impatient little thing," Him said condescendingly. "You are marked, and we are one now; that was how my friends and I were able to find you. I will speak to you, guide you along the way through the same methods. I will leave you breadcrumbs along this trail of vengeance for you to sate your hunger for vengeance and I will be there with you when it comes time for you to repay your former family's negligence a millionfold…"

"But when will that happen?" Buttercup pressed on with her question. "What if I want it now?"

"PATIENCE!" Him blew up all of a sudden, which got Buttercup to shut up, but he calmed down just as immediately after that. "Patience, youngling. What will come, will come… But for now, it's time for you to wake up."

The City of Townsville. Tenements. Otto Time Diner.

21 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 0746.

Buttercup bolted up the moment she opened her eyes. The first thing she realized was the strangeness of it all. How was she asleep in the first place? The last thing she knew, she was sitting down with Red Coyote in some magic circle, smoking a long pipe.

The next thing she knew, she was lying in someone else's bed. Looking down at herself, she also noticed that she wasn't wearing her uniform anymore. It had been replaced with a black dress. Even her socks and boots were gone. She couldn't even feel panties below her new dress.

How long had she even slept?

"Wakey, wakey!" came a voice from just outside the entrance. There was no door to her room. Red Coyote appeared at the entrance after that, with another steaming plate of flapjacks placed atop a bed tray. "You're finally awake!" He padded across the room, which was really just a storeroom, and placed the tray over Buttercup's legs.

Buttercup was still trying to get comfortable in her new dress at the time, adjusting it and pulling at it, something which Red Coyote picked up immediately.

"Oh, I had to bathe you while you were having your vision quest," Red Coyote claimed. "You smelled like a day-old battlefield, something which I can't have in my impeccably hygienic diner."

"I saw him, as in, I mean, Him," Buttercup said, once more slightly distracted by the flapjacks arrayed before her. Picking up a small jar of syrup, she noticed that the syrup, this time, was inky black. Smelling the syrup, she noticed, too, that it wasn't chocolate either. Instinctively, she knew it was Chemical-X. She was craving it immediately.

"And I take it that he's spoken to you?" Red Coyote asked, again rhetorically, though Buttercup didn't pick that up this time. "Given you your… mission?"

Memories from that dream had been hazy at first, but unlike normal dreams, it'd all come flooding back the moment Red Coyote mentioned it. Was it even a dream?

"My revenge… Him said that I'm supposed to become the best daughter and sister there is until…" Buttercup's voice trailed off, even quivered at the last few words with excitement, as if she was about to take part in some new game she very much wanted to play.

"I guess it'll soon be time for you to leave then…" Red Coyote said, grinning just as he looked away and began walking away. But before leaving the room, he paused at the entrance and looked back at Buttercup. "It's a new day, and you're reborn, Buttercup, you're reborn…"