Dil POV

Two weeks into the semester, and I already felt like I was drowning—lectures, lab reports, assignments. On top of it all, I couldn't stop obsessing over Chemical XX.

The more I dug, the worse the rabbit hole became. Every lead I found pointed to the same unsettling conclusion: Chemical XX wasn't just a souped-up version of Chemical X. It was the kind of stuff mad scientists dreamt up—the kind that could turn ordinary people into superhumans, potentially stronger than the Powerpuff Girls.

The most frustrating part?

There was zero documentation on what would happen if someone already superpowered took it. Maybe it would kill them. Or maybe it would push them beyond what anyone thought possible. Either way, governments weren't taking chances. The compound was banned almost everywhere, treated like nuclear waste.

In the middle of decrypting yet another shady classified document, my phone buzzed next to me. I knew without looking who it was.

BUBBLES: Don't tell me physics is more fun than me.

I couldn't help but grin. That was how things had been with her lately. Simple. Fun. But also deeper than I expected.

What had started with us just exchanging information about processing grief and exacting justice turned into hours-long conversations about everything and nothing.

She told me things she said she hadn't told anyone. Like how lonely it felt to always have to be "the happy one."

How exhausting it was being a symbol of law enforcement, not a person.

And I told her things too.

Things I didn't even realize I'd been holding in—how I'd always felt like the odd one out, the weird kid in a family of high achievers. How physics was the only thing that made sense, even when everything else in my life didn't.

And it felt good, talking to her. Maybe too good.

Then I had that dream.

She was floating in the air, just a few inches above the ground. She was only wearing panties—no bra—and her hair was glowing the way it sometimes did on TV when she fought villains. She looked… perfect. She gave me this soft smile, like she was waiting for me to say something.

"Do I look beautiful, Dil?" she asked, her voice soft but playful.

In that drean, I sat on the bed, looking up at her. She was so much smaller than me, but I knew that she was infinitely stronger. There was something about the contrast—the fragility she projected versus the raw power underneath—that was driving me wild.

And I wanted her.

Badly.

Then I woke up, heart pounding, sweat drenching my sheets. For a long moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to push the images out of my head. But they wouldn't leave.

I stopped texting her after that. I had to.

For the next few days, I dodged her messages, giving her some lame excuse about being swamped with assignments. And it wasn't even a total lie. School was kicking my ass. But the real reason I kept my distance was more complicated.

The dream had freaked me out—not just because it was sexual, but because it made me realize how much I actually cared about her. Sure, I had had friends growing up - Lil, Kimi, Susie, Angelica - but they were all literally family. I had never felt care mixed with lust for any girl before.

And that scared me.

Yo make it worse, she wasn't just some regular girl I could text and forget about. She was Bubbles Utonium, a freaking celebrity superhero. And I was… just me. A nerd who could barely keep up with his coursework, let alone get involved in or solve some radioactive chemical conspiracy.

I needed to clear my head. So I did what I always did when things got overwhelming—I shut everything out.

It seemed like the perfect time to go see my dad.

My dad, Stu Pickles, was in his workshop when I got there, tinkering with something that looked like a miniature satellite. He was always working on projects for some government agency, which was both insanely cool and totally intimidating.

He looked up when I walked in, a little surprised to see me. "Hey, Dil. What brings you here, buddy?"

I hesitated for a second, then pulled the spectro gizmo we built together from my backpack. "Hey Dad. I need your help with this."

He took the device from me, turning it over in his hands, including the smashed up bit. "How did it get like this?"

"It's… a long story," I said, then launched into the whole thing. I told him about Bubbles silencing it by crushing it, meeting the Utoniums after Buttercup's suicide, and I even told him about Chemical XX and how I needed the spectro gizmo fixed to figure out what the hell was going on.

When I finished, my dad gave me a long, hard look. "Dil, son; listen to me. This is way over your head."

"I can handle it," I insisted, though even I wasn't sure if that was true.

He shook his head. "Bubbles is a super being. If anything goes wrong, she'll survive. In preschool, those girls wete literally foghting giant monsters, bigger than sky scrapers. If it came down to fighting bad guys she will be ok but you won't. You're normal, son. You're just a kid trying to play in a world that's too dangerous."

The words hit me harder than I expected. I knew he was trying to protect me, but it still stung. I wasn't just some helpless kid. And this wasn't just about me being curious about some chemical.

I cared about Bubbles, I gave her my word that I would help - I was her only hope to contacting Buttercup and getting the closure she needed.

And I hated that he didn't understand that.

"Fine," I muttered, stuffing the device back into my bag. "Thanks for nothing."

"Dil—"

But I was already out the door.

By the time I got back to my dorm, I was exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. My roommate was out, probably at some party, which gave me some much-needed time alone. I collapsed onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts spinning in every direction.

I had hit a brick wall.

There was a knock on the door.

I opened it, and there she was. Bubbles.

She looked… different. Not in a bad way, just… sad. Her big blue eyes were dimmer than usual, her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world was pressing down on them.

"You're avoiding me," she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

I opened my mouth to explain, but no words came out. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, how confused I'd been, but all I could manage was, "I'm sorry."

She crossed her arms, looking at me with a mix of frustration and hurt. "You could've just told me if you needed space, you know. Ghosting is so not cool."

I ran a hand through my tangled hair, feeling like the world's biggest idiot. "It's not just that. I—" I paused, trying to find the right words. "I went to see my dad to get the device fixed, but… he won't help."

Her expression softened a little. "It's okay," she said. "I know someone else who can help. Another redhead, like you."

"Who?" I asked, curious.

"Let's just say she's… very resourceful," Bubbles replied with a sly smile.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You always have a plan, don't you?"

Her smile grew, and just like that, the tension between us faded. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt… okay again.

"Duh."

In that moment, there were no spicy images in my head for my to run away from, or a dad to keep me from helping this sweet creature.

In this moment, I was just glad she was here.