I'm back baby!

Sorry about the MEGA delay but this past summer, I have been B-U-S-Y and it has all to do with the new Powerpuff Girls reboot the CW is making. Let's just say I've been spent these past few months being very vocal about my opinion on that show.

I'm also starting a Youtube channel where I will be posting regular content, specifically about the Powerpuff Girls. Still getting the hang of editing, but hey, come check it out if you want to hear what my voice sounds like. :o

Other than that, thanks again for your continued patience and all the love for this story. If you need a refresher, I invite you to revisit the past couple of chapters, but in short: the Professor was last seen by Elmer & Dexter and he was very thin. Buttercup is out with Snake at the Garage, Butch is stuck in the club and suffering from Antidote X. Bubbles and Boomer are officially together with Boomer possibly getting a job with Princess.

There, all caught up. :)


-Narrator's POV -

"Miss Utonium, the doctor is ready to see you now."

Blossom stood from her chair and placed the magazine she had been looking over back on the small, wooden table before making her way to the nurse. She kept her gaze steady and walked through the heavy doors separating those sitting in the waiting room and those turning over in hospital beds.

She didn't look at the nurse when she passed by, but simply followed her own way to her father's room without any external direction. It was as if she could smell him from where she stood.

Blossom entered the chilled hospital room and saw her father lying under the thin blue sheets of the hospital bed, a respirator contorting his familiar, friendly face. Tubes and wires stuck out from his covers in odd angles, twisting over his body and into machines. The heart monitor kept a slow yet steady beat. His breathing was quiet, his eyes were closed. The Professor was asleep.

"You must be his daughter," began the doctor. Blossom nodded in response but maintained her gaze firmly on the Professor. Her face had a stony quality to it, neutral it seems, to the matter at hand. The doctor cleared her throat and continued: "His condition is stable, for now, but I'm afraid we'll have to keep him for observation."

"For how long?"

The doctor hesitated at the interruption but pressed on. "It's possible that he may be here for several days, at least."

"I see."

"Ma'am, your father suffered a minor heart attack. While he may not have had any pre-existing conditions, his malnourishment and high blood pressure have no doubt increased this risk." The doctor ventured a step further towards the young woman, who was still looking straight at the Professor. "It is serious, and I understand perfectly if you have any questions or concerns that you may want to address."

"No, thank you."

The doctor, feeling uncharacteristically nervous, adjusted her glasses and fidgeted with her hair. A moment of silence overcame the room with only the beating from the monitor and the deflating ventilator keeping the silence from becoming unbearable. "W-well," the doctor cleared her throat again. It was so dry. "I do have some questions for you, to better understand the symptoms of the patient, if you're able to answer them, that is."

Blossom at last stopped looking at her father, and met the eyes of the doctor, the latter of which felt her chest tighten, as if she too were suffering through a heart attack. Blossom spoke to her in a stern, sterilized tone, "Of course, Doctor."

"Very well," the doctor nodded, moving from the Professor's bedside over to the computer in the corner of the room. She felt Blossom's eyes trailing her, suddenly her stomach turned. Ridiculous, the doctor chastised herself. I must have had something bad to eat.

Or perhaps she didn't eat enough. After all, the room had started getting so cold…

"Whenever you're ready," Blossom said in that same tone.

"Right," the doctor sat down and began typing, pulling up the appropriate records. "As far as you know, has your father experienced any chest pain, pressure, squeezing, or similar feelings in the past ten days?"

"No."

"Any pain or discomfort in his arm, back, neck, jaw, or stomach?"

"No."

The doctor sighed. "As far as you know, has your father had shortness of breath, lightheadedness, or nausea?"

"Fainting spells."

The doctor stopped typing and scrolled through the documents on her screen. "There aren't any records of fainting spells here," she started. "How long has he had fainting spells?"

"Few weeks."

"A few weeks?" The doctor's demeanor darkened. "Why didn't you bring him in earlier? As soon as they started…" she trailed off.

Blossom merely kept her eyes locked on her, her face as cold and expressionless as that of a porcelain doll. She didn't answer the doctor's last question, but merely kept looking at her. Looking through her.

The doctor moved on to her next question. "Has your father experienced any extreme stress recently, or have been recently diagnosed with depression?"

"Yes."

"Yes…to which one? The stress?"

"Both."

The doctor opened her mouth to say something, but not a sound came out. She resumed her work, the clicking of the keyboards joining in with the other signs of life. She kept typing, having been otherwise at a loss of words.

"Is that all?" Blossom broke the silence.

"Y-yes," the doctor said. "I think that's all for now. I do have to get to my, uh, other patients." The doctor stood up and disposed of her gloves, wiping sanitizer over her exposed hands. "Nurse Alex will be here to watch him for any changes or improvements. We will of course call you if anything comes up. Would you like to stay a little longer?"

"No, thank you."

Blossom turned the handle of the weighted door and let herself out. She had other engagements to get to tonight.

The doctor watched her leave and shuddered. Just another Townsville weirdo, she reassured herself.

I'll be lucky if those creepy pink eyes don't haunt my dreams tonight.


-Butch's POV-

I stepped out of the restroom and made my way to the elevator towards the back of the room. I scanned the barcode onto the elevator and held my breath. Here we go.

The elevator dinged and buttons for every level showed up: L'Enfer Rave Room, Eden's Garden Gentlemen's club, some fancy new restaurant, the Casino, and a bunch of new levels I didn't recognize.

Weird, I took a closer look at the options. There are only 8 levels.

9 Rings is supposed to have 9 levels, right? With the first three being underground, the rest should be the Casino and above. But there's six stories. Where's the sixth-floor option?

What's on the ninth level?

Guess we'll go with the next best option.

I pushed the button for the fifth floor, level 8, and watched the lights flash as the elevator raised me up. Suddenly the numbers blurred together, grew fuzzy.

Shit...must be after-effects.

I checked my arms and legs, they still worked fine. I still felt strong, but something was up with my head. My vision went back and forth from clear and blurry, and out of nowhere, my ears started ringing.

This better be worth it.

The elevator door opened. I slinked out and dove into the corner of the room to inspect the area. The ringing in my ears continued, making it harder to concentrate. No time to lose. Squinting harder, I stepped out of the dark corner and into the dimly lit area. I came into a hall and peered down it. There was a faint light, probably coming from a lamp, on the other end. I continued going down, trying to move as quietly as I could despite the sudden ringing, it sounded like high-pitched screaming, and I came upon a living room.

It looked like an apartment.

Was someone living here?

It was jarring, going from a crowd filled with dancing, drunken people, to suddenly being in an empty home, silent. I moved through the apartment carefully, keeping an eye out for any security detail that might be hiding somewhere.

The high pitch faded, and my hearing came back. With it, I heard voices. Out of instinct, thinking they might be near, I ducked behind some furniture and searched the room for anyone who might see me. My breathing got heavy, I couldn't tell if from the adrenaline or because the Antidote X. There was no one there, for now. From my hiding spot, I could hear talking. A quiet whisper. A word I could barely make out. "Why?" said that voice.

Buttercup.

I shifted my weight, hoping it would help me hear better. Then, it hit me. Wait a minute…

How did Buttercup get past the forcefield?

Another voice was talking now. I crawled closer to the room to try and make it out. It was male, that much I could tell. The voices were coming from across me, behind a slightly open door. I couldn't see anything other than the low-yellow light, but I could smell the stench just fine. Too well.

The room wreaked of alcohol, among other things. My head still wasn't right, so I couldn't really make out the other smells, or even the words that were being whispered to Buttercup by the man. But it doesn't take a genius to know who would be behind that door.

It is his club after all.

The door creaked open. I hid back under the furniture and tried using my x-ray vision to see who was there. Sure enough, Buttercup walked out, hands wiping her eyes. Was she…crying?

My chest hollowed. I'd never seen her cry before. It made her look…not like herself.

Now that I think of it, she hardly looks like Buttercup at all. Her clothes hung loose around her, her arms with bonier than before. Her legs were skinnier too. Under this light, at least I hope it's the light, her face looked sick and pale. There were dark bags under her eyes, and her face was sunken in. She looks like she'd been starved, and I can't imagine what else. I didn't bother to use x-ray vision to see under her clothes. I had a feeling it would only be worse. That motherfucker.

I'm going to kill him.

But first, I needed to get Buttercup as far away from him as possible.

The door closed behind her. No one else came out. Ace must've stayed back. I peered out the side of the couch I was hiding behind and watched as she approached the golden doors of the elevator. She didn't press the button right away. Buttercup just stood there, staring at the door. Her back was to me but when I squinted to get a closer look, I could see her hands were shaking. They were balled up in fists, but they were definitely shaking. Her breath, if I heard it right, was ragged. After a moment, her fists stopped moving. She let out a strained sigh, raised one hand as if to flick a tear off her face, and finally pressed the button for the elevator. The lights at the top of the elevator began moving as it rose. Buttercup adjusted her hair and waited. I should go now.

I staggered up, finding it surprisingly difficult for my legs to hold me, and made my way to her. I placed a hand on the armrest of the couch to help when I heard the 'ding' of the elevator. Shit, waited too long. Buttercup was already stepping inside.

"Wait," I called out, just loud enough for her super-hearing to pick up. "Buttercup!"

She saw me just as she swiped her card. We made eye contact as the doors were closing. I wanted to run, to fly, hell it would've been fine just to be able to walk the six steps it would've taken to get to her, but I couldn't. The drugs were ending their run through my bloodstream and were clogging up my brain. "Bu, Buttercup," I said, but the word didn't come out quite right. My tongue felt fuzzy.

I did see her eyes though. She saw me. I was sure of it.

The lights from the elevator continued flashing in front of me, one by one, to the other end. I had to get to her.

My arms felt disconnected to the rest of my body, and my legs were heavy. I lunged at the elevator's shut doors, leaning against them for support. I wanted to try and pry the doors open, but they wouldn't give. I couldn't just wait for the elevator to come up again. I'd lose track of her by then. Can't use it.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the door that led to the emergency staircases on either side of the elevator. I willed myself to reach the door to the staircase closest to me and used the key card to unlock it. I fell onto the stairs and reached up to grab the railing. I gripped it so hard that the weight of the metal gave under my fingers, denting the steel bar. So, I do still have my strength.

Or some of it anyway.

I barreled down the steps, trying to keep count of the floors as I went. Buttercup, she was heading down to the third floor. I think. Was it the fourth floor? Dammit, think! What bulb was it? But the memory was hazy. I don't even remember if I saw what floor she stopped on.

Casino, I thought. She has to be there. If she's leaving, that's where she has to be going. I looked around to see what floor I was on, but all the steps looked the same. It made me dizzy looking up and down these dull red stairs. How do I find the Casino?!

I tried the door closest to me and opened it. The lights were a neon pink, and the loud hip hop invaded my ears. I shut the door immediately and stepped away. Casino…that's above the strip club, but by how many floors? I went upstairs and strained my ears to look for the sound of the machines through the thick walls. I kept going until I heard clinking. Finally!

I shoved the door open where the sound of coins falling got louder. I walked past the machines that littered the sides of the casino and out into the middle where the elevator was. The light on top shone green. It was open. I hadn't beaten it.

Cursing under my breath, I started searching the room. The casino was more crowded than usual tonight, but sure enough, there she was. Buttercup in that same stupid outfit that Ace had been parading her in for weeks. She was approaching the exit.

I pushed past the people to get to her. As I kept my focus locked on her, a sheen caught my eye. The forcefield.

I was just about to call her name again when I felt a chill down my spine. Suddenly, I felt all the security guards watching me. Maybe they finally noticed the guard I left stranded in the staircase. Maybe he woke up. Can't draw attention now.

Besides, she might not be able to pass the forcefield which means I have time.

The thought was immediately shot down as I watched her pass seamlessly through the door. What?

I followed her carefully, but the field was definitely up. I could see. I waved my hand over it and felt the energy pulsing underneath. I let a finger fall on it and it zapped me.

Then, how?

I was sure that I still had a decent amount of Antidote X in me, judging from how drunk I still felt on it. For Buttercup to just walk right out, she'd practically have to be human. She'd have to be on lethal levels of Antidote X and I-

Elmer.

"I heard her over the phone, talking to some guy about Antidote X."

That's what Elmer said.

I watched as Buttercup made her way to the street where a sleek black car was waiting for her. Shit, Buttercup. What are they doing to you?

There was nothing I could do but watch. If I tried to follow, the shield would throw me back and now I know why it didn't affect her. I watched her step into the backseat of the car, rather than the passenger seat like I thought she would. Her head hung low. The window in front was rolled down and there was a familiar face looking back at me. I inched forward, squinting my eyes to see better.

Snake.

We locked eyes, mine narrowing into a glare. That slimy sucker, he must know about what Ace and Blossom are doing.

Then, I noticed Snake was doing something with his hand. His finger was pointing up. I looked at the sky, but there was nothing special there. I looked back at Snake, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. He'd rolled up the window and drove off, Buttercup stuck with him.

Anger coursed through he, and finally I felt like I was sobering up. I failed, again. And again, Buttercup was gone and worse for wear because of it. And now, I don't even have a plan for getting out. Like an idiot, I used up all the Antidote X getting in and instead of toughing it out, I'd crumbled and washed it all off the first chance I got. You weak piece of -! How are you going to get out with this force field still up?!

Up.

Snake was pointing up.

I looked up to the ceiling, the chandeliers burning bring and hanging dangerously low. What's up there, Snake?

I went back towards the elevator, still walking calmly to keep the guards' suspicion away. Only they weren't just watching me anymore. Two of the guards that had been standing by weren't at their posts anymore. If they were looking for me, then this is going to get ugly fast.

The crowd thickened, making it that much harder for me to slip past without calling any attention to myself. I could feel my blood pumping hard against my skin, my ears. The closer I got to the elevator, the louder it became. Suddenly, my arm started searing in pain again. Not now!

But it wouldn't go away.

Just ignore it.

Losing patience because of the pain and because the guards were starting to close in on me, I shoved the last remaining people out of my way and ran into the elevator.

"Hey man!" One guy grabbed me by the collar and tried pulling me back. I ignored him and kept going, dragging him behind me until I got inside. There were other people crowding the elevator, so I threw them out, knocking the guy off my back while I did so. Now the gambling crowd noticed me. Now they whined and stopped their dealing.

Now the guards came after me.

I used the key card and the elevator started closing, just in time for me to see five guys fail to catch me at the last second. The inside of the elevator glowed in its new, red velvet color. It hummed quietly as the lights turned on and off with each floor. The highest it will go is the floor I found Buttercup on. That is where the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. I guess this is where I'll start.


-Elmer's POV-

"Elmer, this is a bad idea."

Dexter shivered beside me as we drove closer to the mountains. "This is a very bad idea," he continued.

"Yes it is," I said, keeping my eyes on the road. "But I needed a car, and I knew I had to bring you to use yours, even if I knew you were going to be annoying about it."

Dexter scoffed, and kept fidgeting in his seat. "I thought you were going to stop following Blossom and-."

"I'm not following her," I said. "This is not about her, it's about Buttercup."

"Of course," he said under his breath. "Buttercup, of course. It's about your never-ending obsession with a superhero that you think needs your help."

I didn't respond, just kept my eyes forward. Dexter continued to ramble out of nerves, and the darkening skies didn't help the situation. He probably thought a storm was coming.

There was a midnight run happening tonight.

I got a tip from a few friends that Crusher's gang was holding races to find new runners. It wasn't my scene, the fact that all of a sudden they're looking for new drivers made me wonder if it had to do with what happened at Red Pearl.

It was all over the news: the Warehouse Incident. Bunch of drug dealers torn apart in an old warehouse, all of their drugs missing. I remember that Dexter and I had talked about it. How I thought maybe Blossom had something to do with it. How he thought Buttercup was responsible for the murders.

It wasn't something I believed, and I still don't. I refuse to believe that Buttercup, my friend Buttercup, the person that I'd known and cared about for years, would do that.

But I can't ignore the fact that Townsville's been changing since Buttercup went missing. With Bubbles and Buttercup gone, plus Blossom doing whatever she's doing, suddenly the criminals of Townsville have changed. They're bolder, crueler, and definitely less afraid. Part of my investigation to find Buttercup led me to keeping tabs on what's going on regarding the sudden rise in crime. Crusher's gang, some car gang that had operated on the east side of Townsville for years, is one of those things that changed. Only a short time ago, they apparently got ahold of a new weapon that made them the terror of any of their rivals. They've since expanded to the whole of Townsville, stealing and assaulting in places they'd never stepped foot in before.

Then there was the disappearance of Boogie.

"What's on your mind?"

"Huh?"

Dexter pushed his glasses up and said, "You have been quiet for several minutes, so you must be deep in thought. What are you thinking about?"

"Couple of things," I started.

"Like?"

"Boogie going AWOL."

"Oh."

We sat in silence as we continued down the highway, a few other cars driving past us on the otherwise empty road. Dexter shifted in his seat, the leather squeaking as he moved.

"How long has it been since Boogie went missing?" He asked.

"About three days," I sighed. "But that's just since he was last seen, up in 9 Rings."

"And you said Blossom was meeting with him?"

I nodded. "She's involved, or was anyway. I tried keeping an eye on her, but I haven't caught her meeting up with Boogie since that one time."

"Maybe she's not involved then? Their one meeting is not enough to accuse her of working with him, in my opinion."

"Well, they looked pretty comfortable so I would bet that it wasn't the first time they met. It's not like Boogie had changed into some upstanding citizen or something—he was a crook. He was involved in illegal stuff and rather than bring him to justice, Blossom just casually met up with him as she would a friend."

"Fine," Dexter stopped me. "Say she is involved with Boogie, what does that have to do with where we're going?"

"I'm not too sure yet." I looked over at Dexter, he was looking down at his lap and fiddling with his fingers. I focused back on the road. "I think there's a connection between Buttercup and all this."

I didn't want to admit to Dexter that he might be right. That Buttercup might have something to do with the crime rates going up. That something might have happened to her, maybe something Blossom did or knows about, that led to there being more bad guys. It turns my stomach to think all this, but there has to be a connection because my friend had told me that the guy organizing the race wasn't one of Crusher's usual guys, or Crusher himself (who'd also been awfully quiet the past several weeks).

It was some new guy. Some guy with green skin.

Green skin meant Gangreen Gang.

I might be wrong, but there's a chance that if the Gangreen Gang is suddenly telling Crusher's gang what to do, then there must be a reason for them to start working together. The new weapon they got…does that have to do with Buttercup? Sure, she has a past with Ace, but that was ages ago! It wasn't even a real…anything. She's hated him ever since. I wasn't making sense. I was grasping at straws, but if I'm right, then this race brings me one step closer to finding Buttercup, right?

But, I don't know if I want to be right.

"GPS says we're almost there," Dexter spoke up. "Where, exactly, did you say we were going?"

I swallowed. "Mexico."


-Bubbles's POV—

The sun was setting, leaving the sky a mix of faded orange, yellow, and purple. I sat on the roof of my tiny house, waiting for Boomer. He had sent me a message that he'd be running kind of late to our little dinner date tonight; his meeting with Princess regarding his architecture job ran late. I half-wondered if it might've been because of Princess's notorious rambling, she can get pretty excited sometimes.

No matter the reason, I was fine with waiting a little longer for him.

I gazed at the sky above me, a calm blue with a few clouds stretched across the surface. It felt good to look at the sky.

Most of my time now has been spent being distracted with all the pleasant chaos of my new life. School definitely keeps me busy, between the cooking classes, the painting, tutoring Princess, and all the other regular classes. Then there's Princess herself, a fireball of energy and endless projects. I try to help her whenever I get the chance, but I have no idea how someone can fit so much to do in one day. It's been challenging enough for me to keep track of it all: schoolwork, Princess, Robin, all my friends, and now Boomer. Not that Boomer is a burden in any way. No, I thought. Boomer's been a blessing if anything.

He's made living a lot easier.

Still don't know how Princess, or anyone, could do so much without powers.

I remember back in middle school, Blossom also had a busy schedule. She never really spent time with Buttercup and me because of all the things she had to do for school on top of being a Powerpuff. I sighed.

Blossom, "Powerpuff."

It just occurred to me that I haven't heard the word "Powerpuff" in so long.

Since I've been distracted for so long, I guess I just haven't really thought about my old life. I mean, I do think about my sisters, Buttercup especially. But Townsville? My friends from back home? The Professor?

Oh god, the Professor.

I wonder how he's doing. I can't imagine what he's going through, thinking one of his daughters was gone. Oh no…

Did I make a terrible mistake?

Oh Bubbles! How can you be so selfish?! Look at yourself! So happy with your friends and your school and your boyfriend! Meanwhile everyone back home…

The guilt churned in my stomach. I know things weren't…great when I made the decision to leave but what if by doing what I did, I just made everything worse?

What if Buttercup never finds the note I left behind saying I was alive? What if the Professor blames himself? Does he know it wasn't his fault?

"Hey you."

I snapped my head up to see Boomer carrying a picnic basket under his arm and a confused grin on his face.

"Are you ok?" he asked, settling down next to me. "You looked kind of serious just now."

Don't say anything, you'll ruin the date. "Yeah," I smiled at him. "I'm just waiting for you, silly!"

"Oh, okay." Boomer floated down next to me and took a seat, placing the woven basket in front of us. He opened up the basket and laid out a white cloth which I helped him set up. One by one, we took out the morsels of food and settled in.

Boomer and I prepped the crackers and cheese under the fading light. It was getting cool. "So how was the meeting with Princess?" I asked. "Did everything go OK?"

"Mm!" Boomer agreed, though his mouth was stuffed with cheese. He swallowed and went for another one. "Better than okay! We went to an actual meeting with some investor people —that's what Princess said they were— and at first they didn't look happy. I dunno," he paused here to swallow his cracker and drink some juice. "If they were mad because I'm sixteen or-"

"You're sixteen?" I asked.

Boomer tilted his head. "Yeah…you didn't know?"

I shrugged back. "Guess I just always thought you and I were the same age."

"Well, how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Really?"

"Yeah, at least according to the Pro," I hesitated, all my thoughts from before rushing back. Ignore it. Clearing my throat, I kept going. "The Professor. He estimated our age to be five when were created."

"Oh." Boomer started on his sandwich. "Yeah Mojo made us at five too, at least I think he did." He took another bite. "Actually, now that I think about it, he didn't really tell us. Hell, I don't even know my birthday."

Boomer kept eating his sandwich, as if he hadn't just dropped the bomb on me. "What?" I replied.

"What?" he asked with a mouth full of sandwich.

"You don't know your birthday?" I sat up. "When do you have birthday parties with your brothers if you don't know?"

Boomer shrugged. "We don't celebrate it. It's just a birthday."

"Boomer," I said softly.

"Relax, it's not the end of the world. I still hang out with my brothers and things have gotten a lot better since Brick and I moved to Citiesville," Boomer took a moment to think there. "For the most part anyway. So, I don't feel like I'm 'missing out' or anything."

"Huh," I took a bite of my own sandwich, making a mental note to do something about this later. Not have a birthday, and just because mean Mojo didn't bother to celebrate it. "Odd how that hasn't come up until now."

"Huh," Boomer laid on his back. "Yeah, I guess it just wasn't that important."

I stayed sitting, fiddling with the cheese knife. "So, are you going to tell Brick about this job with Princess?"

Boomer sighed but remained laying down. "I am planning on telling him, but not just yet."

"Oh, okay."

"I am going to tell him. I'm just going to wait for the right time."

"Okay, I believe you." And I did, but Boomer kept eyeing me as if he was suspicious of me. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing, nothing." Boomer put his arms under his head and readjusted himself. I mean, there was more that I wanted to ask him, both about his new job and his brothers, but I wasn't sure how to bring it up. My face must've given me away however because Boomer sighed and sat up. Then he looked at me and said: "I know you have some questions about my brothers that I never answered before, but I'm ready to answer them now."

"…How did you know?"
"I know you, Bubbles. I can tell what's weighing on your mind and," Boomer paused. "And now that we're together, I don't want to hide anything from you. So, ask away."

"Okay," I shifted my weight so now I was sitting over my legs and was facing Boomer directly. "When we went to Princess's house and Brick was there, we talked a little," I started.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah and I asked him what happened to Butch, where he was. Brick never really answered the question." Before Boomer could say anything, I tried to clarify some things. "I'm not trying to be nosy or anything, it's just that, well. I was very close with Buttercup before I, you know, came here. I miss her whenever I even start to think about life before I ended up here or whenever I see something that reminds me of her, even a little, and I'm just…worried."

"Worried about Butch or your sister?"

"I…don't know. Both, I suppose."

Boomer moved closer to me and placed a hand over mine. "Well, I don't know about your sister, but I can tell you about my brother." Boomer squeezed my hand gently. "Butch is safe, he's in Townsville."

"Townsville?"

"Yeah. According to Brick, he's got business there? Either way, I know he's probably a lot happier in Townsville than he would be here, what with the whole 'no supers' rule. I know he misses us, but he always keeps in touch and Brick goes to visit him often so he's not entirely alone."

"Oh."

"Besides," Boomer continued. "My brother is a lot like your sister: tough, loyal, and just flat-out a badass."

I giggled at that, which in turn made Boomer chuckle.

"Yeah I know but it's true. I've seen your sister in action and I remember those fights, and the bruises she left on my brother when we used to battle."

I smiled at the memories. "Yeah well Butch was no slouch either. It's not just any bad guy that leaves my sister so exhausted after a fight."

"See, that's what I'm telling you!" Boomer smiled wide, happy to have made his point. "Listen, if it worries you that much, we can give Butch a call."

I laughed, but politely declined. "I'm sure he's busy, I wouldn't want to bother him."

"Hey now," Boomer put an arm over my shoulder. "You are never a bother. Not to me or my brothers or our friends so get that thought out of your gorgeous head."

"Gorgeous head?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Eh, I stand by it. I know I'm no poet but it's true. Your head is gorgeous."

"Thank you Boomer," I replied.

"Of course."

The sun had officially set. Now we had a beautiful starry sky over us, with the lights from my house below giving the lavender field a soft, golden glow. I rested my head on his warm shoulder, enjoying his presence. He had an arm wrapped around me and the both of us gazed at the scene before us.

"Have I told you how much I love this?" He looked at me with a small, genuine smile.

I sat up so as to face him directly. "What? Picnics with me?"

"No," he said, but started chuckling when he saw me pouting. "Well, yes I do enjoy that," he corrected himself, giving me a peck on the nose. "I love picnics with you. I live for picnics with you."

"Oh stop!" I giggled, giving him a playful slap. He started laughing too. I reached over for a bag of fruit snacks in the picnic basket. "So, what do you love besides picnics with me?"

"I don't know," Boomer shrugged, reaching for a gummy from my baggie. "Just, this. Being here, watching the sunset. Watching how the trees get darker and taller, like they're the silhouettes in a painting."

"Yeah," I said in between chews. "I can see that."

"Plus," Boomer sat closer to me. "I love seeing you happy."

"You make me happy," I said to him. "You and Princess and Robin, this school, this place. I didn't think I could be this happy since…"

I trailed off, silencing myself out of habit. Boomer didn't say anything, he just held me tighter to keep me warm.

It's time, I decided. He answered my question about Butch. It's time I answer his question about Blossom.
"Boomer?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm ready."

He sat up; his eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Ready for…?"

I sighed. "I'm ready to tell you the truth about," I paused. "About everything. Townsville, my sisters, my leaving, all of it."

"Oh," he shifted his weight. "Okay, okay." Boomer looked at me with a serious expression, it made me a little nervous.

"Okay," I sighed. "Right, so…"

Where to start?

I sighed, squeezed his hand, and began:

"I told you before that I ran away because of Blossom. That, I ran away because she shut me out."

"Right."

"Well, it was a little bit more…complicated than that. She didn't just shut me out. She,"

I paused, unsure of how to phrase what I wanted to say. Boomer waited, his arm pulling away so he could look directly at me. Blossom hurt me, I wanted to say. Having not talked about it, having shoved it to the back of my mind for so long, made it difficult to vocalize. Then Boomer ventured to ask: "What did she do?"

Nothing? "I, I- uh, nothing, I guess. Technically, she didn't do anything to me, she just-" I stopped. Oh god, did I overreact when I left?

Did I just make everything worse?

No, Bubbles. I argued with myself. Don't sit here and act like she didn't purposely ignore you, pretend that you were nothing more than a bother, or made you feel terrible! She didn't love you like the sister you were to her...not like the friends you have now. That, that has to count for something.

"She just didn't love me," I whispered. "One day she just stopped talking to me, stopped wanting to be around me."

My arms were shaking, why are they shaking? This is ridiculous. Boomer hugged me and I had to fight the urge to start weeping into his shirt. "Am I crazy? Am I just so selfish for leaving?"

"No, I don't think so," Boomer said in a soothing voice. "It's not selfish to want to be happy."

"No, no it is," I broke apart from him and wiped the tears from my eyes. "It was the way I left. I, I made them think I was dead."

Boomer didn't really say anything at first but looked extremely concerned. "Wha-how did, what?"

I took a deep breath. "I have this…power. Like my ability to speak to animals, it's a special power that, as far as I know, only I have. I can clone myself, in a way."

Boomer stayed quiet, still grappling with what I was confessing. So, I continued.

"It's a strange process, but from the times I'd done it in the past, I end up sacrificing an emotion."

"Sacrificing…an emotion?"

"Like," I tried to find a way to explain it. "When I make the clone, it's as if an emotion comes out of me and embodies that clone. I have no idea which one it will be when I make it, but for example: I make a clone and it's 'Sleepy.' It's my ability to feel sleepy. So that clone would be sleepy all the time while I won't feel tired ever. Not until after that clone is destroyed. Anyway, I used this power to make a clone of myself before I left Townsville."

"And," Boomer started, still hesitant. "What emotion was that?"

"I'm almost sure it was my happiness," I answered. "It's hard to know for sure because I wasn't in a good place regardless, but I just remember feeling so sad or feeling numb. But I do know it took a long time for me to feel genuine joy again and I remember that clone's face. She was smiling. She looked happy."

Boomer nodded solemnly. "What else happened?"

"I grabbed a vial of Antidote X and," Don't say "killed." "And gave it to the clone. The clone died almost instantly."

"Hell."

"I left a note, I didn't want my family to be confused or blame themselves. Then I grabbed my things and ran away. Eventually I wound up here and I became so worried about what I was going to do and how I was going to stay hidden. That's why I changed my name, and that's why I lived under the school. I had nowhere to go, but the more I think about what I did now the more I wonder: was it worth it? I'm happy, sure, but at what price? My home, Buttercup, the Professor, it's just all-"

I stopped, knowing if I opened my mouth I'd start bawling. My face grew hot from shame, I couldn't even bear to look at Boomer knowing that he knows the truth now. That he sees me for the awful brat I must be, overreacting how I did. A fake suicide! What was wrong with me?

"Hey, hey." Boomer grabbed my wrists and pulled them from my face. "Look at me." He plunged his eyes into mine, reaching down and pulling me away from the downwards spiral I was headed towards. "You are not a monster, or anything like that. You were just lost. Just, stuck in this horrible place and maybe you didn't make the best decision, but you did the best you could at that time, alright? I don't think you ever meant to hurt anyone. You just didn't know what you know now, and you did what you felt you had to do at the time. I don't think any less of you, Bubbles, and you shouldn't either."

"But,"

"No, don't say anything. I meant it when I said I would always be there for you. I," and he stopped. He held my head and said with more conviction than he's ever spoken with before, "I love you. I love you so much."

I love you. "Re, really?"

His face broke into a grin, and he pulled me closer, kissing my head. "Yes, really. I really do, and I have for a long time, silly."

I hiccupped and smiled back. "I love you too."

And he held me, and I stayed.


-Narrator's POV—

Butch returned to the floor where he'd first found Buttercup and came in guns blazing, expecting to find some kind of trap, because why else would Snake lead him here? As far as Butch was aware, he was nothing to Snake so why would Snake betray Ace to help him? Butch showed up however to an empty apartment floor. No guards, no Gangreen Gang, no trap. Not yet. Carefully, Butch made his way through each room of the makeshift home looking for something, anything, that might explain why this place was so important.

The place had two bedrooms, one considerably smaller than the other, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and a living room. It was certainly an upgrade from the literal dump that the Gang used to live in, but despite the better furniture, most of the apartment was trashed. There was a noticeable stench, one Butch associated with the unique pungency of a crack house: sweat, sex, piss, blood, chemicals. For a moment, Butch was grateful that his senses were on the fritz. He didn't want to imagine what the stench was like with super-smell.

Butch got to work, searching the area. There was nothing of importance in the small bedroom, there was nothing in there except a bed. The bathroom wreaked of piss and he found a few needles, but nothing else. Just as Butch crossed the living room to enter the master bedroom, something caught his eye. Something in the kitchen.

Something pink.

Butch walked into the kitchen and sure enough, partially stuffed into a drawer, was pink slip of paper. Hidden away in a half-assed manner.

Butch opened the drawer and pulled the sheet out. It was folded in half but had creases and wrinkles that prove it had been crumpled up, stuffed in pockets, and used for a while. Butch unfolded the slip and scrawled over the top in swirly writing were the words:

Blossom's "Feel Better!" Soup!

Butch skimmed it; it was just a recipe for some kind of beef stew but there was an ingredient in there that stuck out to Butch. Instead of a normal ingredient, it just said Xtra Special Spice

Xtra Special Spice?

He'd heard that term before…but where?

Suddenly, he heard footsteps.

Instinctively, Butch pocketed the slip of paper and hid behind the counter. He kept his eyes peeled but saw no one. Slowly, he stood back up, searching for the source of the sound. The footsteps got louder as he walked towards the center of the apartment and there, Butch could pick up a couple of voices, albeit muffled. He traced the sound to the ceiling. Upstairs.

Right, there was yet another floor on top of this one. Butch didn't have the slightest idea what would be located above Ace's living space but whatever it was, it must be what Snake was referring to, right? But how do I get up there?

Whatever that place was, the guard that Butch stole the keycard to didn't have access to it. Butch figured maybe none of the guards did. He double-checked the stairs, they ended at this floor too.

It occurred to him that he could just fly up and bust through the ceiling, but that option was risky at the moment. He decided to leave that as a last resort.

Butch kept an ear out for those footsteps, making sure he'd be able to hear when they left. Meanwhile, he stepped into the master bedroom to see if it would lead to anything. That's where the odor really hit him.

Butch immediately fell back out of the room, stifling his coughs so no one could hear him but that smell! Alcohol was the biggest offender, and by itself it wouldn't have been so bad, but it was mixed with the stench of sex and vomit. Butch got back on his feet and used one hand to pinch his nose closed as he stepped further inside. He blinked several times to get the smell out of his eyes and noticed the room was, for the most part, empty. It had a large bed and a nightstand on one side, across from that was a single wooden desk that doubled as a vanitycluttered with small liquor bottles, and a closet in the corner. Butch inspected each part of the room. The sheets were disheveled, torn in some places, and the wooden bedposts had fresh scratches on them. By now, Butch was able to ignore the smell of the room and unpinched his nose. On the wall next to the nightstand, there was a small hole. Butch thought its shape looked similar to the holes he's punched into his own walls but found it odd that it would be so close to the ground, maybe two feet off the floor. In the closet were stacks of boxes, and some clothes thrown into the corner. He turned around and arrived at the desk. On it amongst the bottles was a plastic bag with a white powder inside. At first, Butch wrote it off as cocaine. Made sense for a junkie like Ace to keep a stash of his own. He almost walked away but got a gut feeling that he shouldn't. There was something there. So, he took a closer look at the bag and its contents. When he opened it up, a bit of the powder flew up to his exposed nose and Butch ended up inhaling just the tiniest amount of white.

Immediately his pupils enlarged.

A surge of energy ran shocked him. Butch let go of the bag, it falling straight down to the floor and landing gruffly, nearly spilling. Butch felt his fingers jostling at his side and his eye started twitching. His senses, which had been come-and-go before, returned to their original state. In fact, he felt them stronger.

With his hearing sharpened, Butch could better trace the footsteps upstairs. It was heavy boots and high heels. It was a man and woman, upstairs. They spoke. It was Ace and Blossom. Butch followed the sounds of their footsteps as they were leaving the room. The elevator descended. Butch shot out the room, breaking the doors and ending up in the elevator shaft. He started falling. He tries to fly, as he should be able to, but for whatever reason, he couldn't. He just keeps falling. Butch lunges for the wall with one arm and digs his fingers into the steel wall. Now, he can find out what's at the top floor.

Butch launched his other arm into the wall and grabbed hold of the metal. Moving faster now, he pulled himself up and jumped upwards, catching himself using the walls and climbing further and further up. The metal creaks and bends under his grasp and Butch makes it at last to the final floor. He kicks in the door and enters.

The room is red.

Everywhere Butch looked, it was a burning red color. The walls, the blinds, the rugs, the bed. All except one thing. In the center of the room hummed a rather large machine. It emitted a blue, pulsating light that rose into the ceiling and faded into a shimmer above. The force field!

The machine was the size of a coffee table and was reinforced with titanium. Butch might've had some trouble with it had it not been for the drug he found in Ace's room. His strength was more than there now, and he kicked in the machine. He punched it, one, two, three times. It dented and screeched. Sparks and screws flying past him. The light glitched and weakened but hadn't completely faded away yet. He raised his arm to punch again but noticed that the rug underneath the machine was disturbed. He got distracted by what looked like movement under the rug and lifted it up. It covered the floor, but the floor wasn't…floor. It was a window. Down below, he could see the apartment he'd just been in. Had they been…watching him?

"Restricted Area, buddy."

Butch turned to see Ace leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, cigarette in his mouth. Butch stopped what he was doing and focused his anger on Ace instead.

"You motherfucker!"

Butch flew to the doorway and smashed his fist where Ace had been leaning against, just barely missing him as ace ducked out of the way.

Ace was by no means a brawler like Butch and their strength was no comparison, but ever since he started using Buttercup to do all the heavy work of his business, he had a feeling Butch would come looking for him. He also knew about Butch's weak spot, thanks to a certain mutual contact of theirs.

Butch fired another shot at Ace, this time hitting his nose dead on. Ace stumbled back, pinching his nose, and looked up to just barely catch Butch ripping a chunk of drywall and throwing it at his head. Again, Ace tried to move out of the way, but was less lucky this time and was hit in the shoulder. Before Ace could recover, or even react, the pain in his shoulder suddenly worsened. Butch was there in the blink of an eye, squeezing the injury to the point where he nearly broke the bone, but didn't. He did continue delivering blows with the other hand into Ace's torso, making Ace cough blood. Ace squirmed under his grasp, trying to think of anyway to break free, but his own mind was swimming from all the alcohol. Though, the alcohol and Ace's experience of being able to take a beating was probably the only reason he was still conscious.

Butch glared him down, and Ace could see that same clouded look in the dark of his eyes that Buttercup got at the warehouse. Butch's nostrils had a hint of white too, and Ace put two and two together.

He'd taken something, he probably found Buttercup's drug in Ace's room. Still, Ace reasoned while flailing under the assault. He ought to be tearing me apart, breaking me. Why isn't he?

Butch was showing restraint, and Ace noticed. It something that he could use.

Ace spat out another round of blood, aiming it this time at Butch's face. It landed just under Butch's eyes, making him flinch. It was enough to weaken his grip on Ace, allowing him to slip out.

Ace staggered to catch his balance. Thinking quickly, he put his arms up in front of Butch and said:

"Hold on," Ace started, keeping a safe distance from the Rowdyruff. "I know why you're here, Butch. I know what you want."

"Oh, you know?" Butch mocked. "Tell me then."

Ace kept moving, his eyes darting around the room to find something, anything, to give him the upper hand. "I imagine you're being here h-has," he stuttered as Butch's eyes glowed threateningly at him. "Ha-has something, something to do with our mutual friend."

"Friend?" Butch scoffed. He rushed Ace again, this time grabbing him by the throat. "Is that what you'd call her?" Ace gasped for air, and again found himself struggling to pry Butch's grip from him. "Though I've seen you around Snake and the others so yeah. I guess that is just how you treat 'friends,' right?" Butch squeezed just slightly harder.

Ace's eyes were now bulging.

"I don't know how you're doing it, getting Buttercup to do your dirty work for you, but I'm going to get her out of here, and you're going to regret ever crossing paths with her." With that, Butch flung Ace into the machine.

Though the machine didn't take much damage, Ace felt a piece of the industrial metal parts pierce his skin. It felt like he was being stabbed, but at least he was able to catch his breath. Fuck, think Ace! He had only seconds, at most, to do something before Butch comes after him again.

The machine, which remained barely intact, continued to shoot up its Anti-X force field, though now it was glitching. It, however, gave Ace the advantage he needed.

Like an enraged bull, again Butch went after Ace. If it weren't for all the years of fighting the Powerpuffs, Ace might've been completely screwed. By now however, he knew how fast they travelled, how to calculate his own movements. He used to move out of the way and drag the busted machine into position.

Butch noticed at the last moment what Ace was doing and tried to stop himself but was too late. He hit the crumpling machine head-first and split it open. The chamber of the machine split and exposed the core, which instantly threw Butch back. He landed on the floor with a thud and stared bewildered at the glowing machine. What the hell just happened?

Ace smiled, still sat on the floor. One hand holding his torso, he pulled himself up the machine and reached into the core. That same energy which had been powering the force field, the one that repels Chemical X, was of course made with Antidote X. Just as Ace suspected it was.

The machine was, after all, a courtesy of the mutual contact Ace had been referring to before: Blossom.

The solid sphere had cracked from the impact. Ace grabbed it and smashed it against the metal of the machine. He did so a couple of times until the sphere finally split in two.

Butch meanwhile was staggering to his feet, dazed by the sudden exposed core. He held his head with hand and looked up to see Ace struggling to stand himself, or rather, he saw two Aces, both of them holding something sharp. Butch cursed under his breath, he was seeing double.

No doubt Ace noticed Butch was weakened by the blast.

Ace smirked, now that the odds were tilted more in his favor than before. Butch swung at him, but wildly miscalculated the punch and hit nothing but air. Butch shook his head to try and clear his vision, and Ace took that opportunity to slash him with the jagged end of the core. Butch saw the attack and moved his face out of the way, the end of the core slicing his shoulder instead. The solid Antidote X cut through Butch's skin like butter, leaving the 'Ruff with an ugly-looking scar searing his skin, but it wasn't deep enough to damage him.

Ace grimaced but held his ground. His goal wasn't to kill Butch, far from it. Killing a Rowdyruff, even if he were physically capable of it, would mean a certain death (more than likely painful and slow) delivered by his brothers. No, Ace just to had to get Butch to leave, hopefully with a truce. But as the fight continued, with Butch fighting in a scattered manner and Ace getting in more cuts here and there, the chance of a peaceful exit seemed less and less likely. Just get him outta here, Ace thought. Anything to make him leave!

Butch stopped to catch his breath, he was wasting too much time. Even if he killed Ace right then and there, it wouldn't guarantee Buttercup's safety. No, Butch was no idiot, and he knew neither was Ace. Knowing Ace, he probably had some cards up his sleeve. He needed information, and he needed a way out. Butch eyed the ripped apart machine that was still functioning. But, Butch decided. Not for much longer.

Ace saw that Butch had stopped trying to fight him and took that opportunity to try and negotiate with him. "For what it's worth," he coughed out. "Buttercup chooses to be here. I ain't forcing her to do nothing."

Butch's anger flared up again. "Better watch that tongue of yours because I'm no fucking idiot. I know for a fact that Buttercup would never 'choose' to do anything for you except for digging your grave."

"Is that so?" Ace raised an eyebrow, tightening his grip of the Antidote X core. "Tell me, how is it you know so much about Buttercup?"

Butch pursed his lips and said nothing. He merely narrowed his eyes at Ace and took a step closer.

Immediately Ace raised up his weapon, which made Butch halt. Then Ace continued, "See because even before all this, I've known Buttercup. I've watched her, and I've been there since the beginning you know."

"Yeah I know you're a real pervert, you don't have to explain that."

"Funny guy," Ace bantered. "But either way, it means I know her, and you don't. And I knew when she needed help, and you didn't, so you can drop that 'hero' act you're trying to put on."

"I never claimed to be a hero," Butch inched closer to the machine, keeping an eye on Ace. "But having a drug made specifically for people like us," Butch pointed at himself, "and shooting Antidote X in Buttercup is pretty fucking far from my definition of 'help.'"

Ace ignored that comment and continued. "And you'se all didn't know that Buttercup had the chance to leave. She could've walked right out, and you know what? She did. She left, and I didn't stop her. And you know what happened?"

Butch stepped closer to the machine, Ace too focused on Butch's eyes to notice what he was doing.

Ace smiled and lowered his weapon. "She came back. Buttercup asked to stay with me."

"Alright, fine." Butch started. "You don't need to control her, right?" He stepped closer to the machine and was now in front of it. "So, I guess you don't need this."

When it dawned on Ace what Butch meant, it was too late. Butch had grabbed what was left of the Antidote X in the machine and chucked it out the window, the glass smashing as it broke through. It burned Butch just to hold it, but once it left the vicinity, he could feel a fraction of his strength return. The machine sputtered and stopped emitting the blue light, and the sheen outside the club disappeared.

The force field was gone.

Ace growled at the loss of such a powerful weapon and this time, let his anger get the best of him. He lunged at Butch with what was left of the Antidote X in his hand and jumped onto Butch's back.

Butch felt something stab his back and yelled in pain. He reached up, grabbed Ace by the arm, and tossed him to the floor. Butch slammed his foot onto Ace's wrist, bones snapping under the weight, breaking the wrist. Ace howled in pain, his injured hand dropping the weapon it had been holding. Butch kicked the Antidote X away and began punching his victim's face. He continued this assault on Ace until Ace could barely talk, barely open his eyes.

"How are you doing it Ace?" Butch grabbed him by the shirt and pulled Ace up to meet his eyes. "How did you really get Buttercup to agree to all this?"

Ace mumbled something and coughed. Butch gave him a slap to get him to come to his senses, but Ace merely looked at him with a taunting, bloody smirk. "Well, I did have some help, if that's what you're asking…"

"What kind of help?"

Ace started to laugh and choked from the blood in the process. "Now Butch, I know you're not as sharp as your brothers but still."

Butch growled and dug a fist into Ace's torso injury. "I'm tired of your games, Ace. If you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna-"

And in that instant, Butch's left arm, the very one that had been pushing down on Ace's injury, exploded in pain. Butch screamed, actually screamed, and fell back to the floor, holding his arm. It felt as though it had been dipped in gasoline and set ablaze. The pain was enough to bring Butch close to tears.

"It's her, isn't it?" Ace smiled, holding an arm over his wound, still coughing. "Our mutual friend?"

Butch was grinding his teeth together, his whole body tensing from the pain. "What?" was all he could mutter.

Ace tried to stand, but his strength failing him, could barely move an inch upwards. "To answer your question, since you're dying to know, it's her." Ace sighed, "Or 'Blossom,' as he's going by these days."

Butch could barely hear Ace over his own pain but heard him say "Blossom," and the pin dropped. Fuck, it's worse than we thought. Butch forces himself to try to stand. He crawls onto his knees, but groans as his body refuses to let him stand upright.

Ace kept going, now talking more for himself than anything else. "I don't know what he's doing to you, but I bet it hurts like a bitch."

Butch glared at Ace, unamused, and kept squirming.

"You know, Blossom paid me a visit today…" Ace went quiet. Butch didn't notice. "I guess you could say I'm suffering too. We have that in common, don't we? The hold over us?"

"Ff," Butch moaned, his legs shaking as he tried to stand again. "Fuck you."

Ace chuckled, and locked his jaw when that worsened his pain. "It's true, Butch. You and I, we're both slaves to the demon."

"No," Butch said. "No, we're not the same." Ace looked up from his lap and saw that Butch was now standing, despite the pain. Butch squeezed his fists together and walked towards Ace. "You chose this, I didn't."

He walked up to Ace, who was leaning beside the half-torn force field machine, too weak to move.

"And I fight like hell every day, but you? You caved the first chance you got."

Butch raised his foot and brought it down, yelling through the pain. Ace braced himself for the impact, but he wasn't the target. The machine shrieked and dented under the weight, Butch kept kicking, punching, tearing apart until it was nothing but useless pieces, obliterated beyond repair. Now Ace would be unable to fix it or ever use that thing again. Getting rid of the machine while his arm was in this condition exhausted him however, not to mention everything else he'd put his body through earlier. He had to leave, gather his strength, and come back when he'd recovered. He also had to tell Brick what he learned tonight. Shit.

He was not looking forward to that conversation.

Butch began walking towards the window, the only window in the room he noticed, when he heard Ace mutter from behind him.

"What's this?" Ace said. "You're leaving me here alive? After all that? I didn't know we'd bonded so quickly."

"Shut up."

"Or did our little friend just hurt you bad enough to make you walk away? I didn't know Blossy cared so much..."

"That wasn't Blossom, you know that's not Blossom."

Ace shrugged. "She's in the same boat as us, or worse maybe. Was she weak too, Mista' High-and-Mighty? Did she 'cave' like me?"

Butch's eyes glowed green and he threw an orb of green energy in Ace's direction. It didn't hit him, intentionally, but it was enough for Ace to get the warning. "Tonight is just the start, Ace. I'm coming back. I'm going to get Buttercup out of here and when I do, I am going to beat the living shit out of you. That's a promise."

"But you're not going to kill me, huh? Must be your good side poking through…"

"No, I'm not going to kill you." Butch smirked, suddenly feeling lighter. He started floating, looking down at Ace's mangled body. "I wouldn't want to deprive Buttercup of that pleasure."

Ace narrowed his eyes at Butch. "And what about Him?" He asked.

Butch glared at Ace but stayed silent. He instead simply flew off into the night, leaving Ace alone in the trashed room.

"Leaving me alive?" Ace muttered out loud. His eyes glazed over and peered at something dark and shiny in the corner of the room: the Antidote X left behind by Butch. He smiled.

You're going to regret that.


r&r ^ . ^