Puff Most Epic Ch. 2 P. 4

Part 4: Rapid Third Eye Movement


  The sun rose reluctantly. Sliding ever-so-slowly into the sky on the horizon, its orange-red glow cast a cool morning light on the landscape. The light slithered across the grass, and the ladybugs yawned, and flitted their wings as they took a sip of the morning dew, and basked in the fresh rays from the sun.

  It baked the land as it went further and further, and then stopped at a white, faded wall. It seemed hesitant, but it climbed, higher and higher and finally poked its way into the bedroom windows.

  The sun touched the sleeping girl's eyes and brought that familiar sting, and she clenched them tighter shut. She opened them slowly and tried to roll over, away from it.

  But they were in her way.

  After a moment of just thinking about why she couldn't turn her body, she once again closed her eyes and sighed.

  So annoying.

  Two, coiled over her body like a shield; the other two lay above and below, cradling her gently. She concentrated on the arms, and on what she wanted to do. At once they untwisted and moved away, and then she turned her body just enough to rise, and dangle her legs over the side of the bed, still squinting against the impertinent beams. Her arms dropped slowly, clanking as they bumped against themselves on the floor. She looked at them briefly. She wasn't as... weirded out by them anymore.

  Why was that? Because of what Blossom had told her?

  ...the very state of mind of... you, Bubbles...

  They were a part of her. They were an extension of herself.

  Permanent?

  Maybe.

  In silence, she sat, and shook her head clear, then stood, and stretched with some minor discomfort. Finally, she hunched forward, allowing her back to peacefully relax.

  She turned, and looked onto the bed.

  Blossom slept on the other side, almost smiling. She looked around the room. Buttercup was... nowhere in sight.

  At first, she didn't react, but she smiled, crawled back on to the bed, and sat on her heels, just staring at her in silence.

  It had been so long since they had shared the same bed. The fact that she could sit there and watch her in slumber... well, that was enough. Just the thought was enough, really.

  She looked down at the arms.

  ...the very state of mind...

  She didn't need to be ashamed... she knew that. But, she—Buttercup—didn't like them. But in her absence, Bubbles could do what she wanted, and it felt... good.

  She concentrated, slowly, and it heeded her easily now. One arm uncoiled and extended. Her eyes met the bookcase, and it reached out to it, pressing its tip against the books. As if she were right in front of it, she knew the books, even though she couldn't see them. As she pulled away, a single book came out of the bookcase, slowly—her eyes flickered, but never broke her concentration. As it left the shelf, it dangled from the rounded tip of the arm. It was like a magnet.

  She concentrated just a little harder. Like a hand.

  The book stopped swinging and held its place. As she brought it to her, the book opened and it flipped to a random page. She loved this story.

  She looked to her right, brought her focus to the other arm, and simply extended it across the room, slowly going over the bed, towards the far wall. She touched it experimentally, and then began to pull back. Her arm passed over the bed.

  ...at're you doi...

  The book dropped to the floor, and she froze. She heard... Blossom's voice? From where? The arm? No... but it had passed Blossom when she heard it.

  She looked at her sleeping sister with the crimson hair, curiously, moved the arm over her sister and leaned in.



  "What are you doing?"

  "I think you deserve to see this," he stated flatly as he brought screen to life.

  There, inside the brightly glowing box, a coffin, surrounded by people. People she knew well. The people of Townsville, and her family, gathered at her wake. The hum of the screen was the only thing that told her she was still alive, as she watched her casket lower into her grave.

  She wept, the tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping from her chin. "It's horrible," she told him.

  He sneered. "If you are looking for sympathy, know that this is the most you will get from me." He lifted up her chin and stared her in the eyes. Though it surprised her, it did not intimidate her at all. "I show you this only so now you know how much the world you left loved you. And I can see in your eyes that now, you know how much the world hated me. So I have nothing left to lose."

  He let her go abruptly and cut the power to the screen. "You are a tool—now and always, my dear—a means to an end. You should be prepared to never see your family again."

  After a moment of pause, he turned his head and asked, "Do you want to keep watching?"

  Restrained to the table, she could do nothing but nod.

  He turned the screen back on and left the room. She watched the ceremony draw to a close. She cried, but she could not forget. She would not. It would keep her going.

  She imagined the day when she would return, and tried to imagine the looks on their faces.



  Bubbles drew her head back, and felt her tears. She sat back, and dabbed them away with her hands.

  Blossom moved and opened her eyes, almost rolling over, but found her vision on Bubbles' face, and stared up at her. She sat up a little, and looked at her more closely. "Bubbles," she whispered. "Why are you crying?"

  Bubbles clenched her eyes shut and threw her arms around her sister, crying harder. "I don't know how you did it..."

  Blossom almost fell onto the bed, taken aback by Bubbles' sudden flux of emotion. She didn't understand. "Did what?"

  She sobbed harder, and struggled for the words "Made it." Sniffle. "You... you made it. I—I would've..."

  "Bubbles..."

  "But you're here. I'm... so glad you're here, Blossom. I—" Sniffle. "I love you so much."

  The tears, already forming at the corner of Blossom's real eye, trickled down. "I love you too, Bubbles."

  Blossom wrapped her arms around her loving sister, and held her tight.

  Their morning routine in effect, Blossom and Bubbles got up with a new set of clothes and made their way to the bathroom. Blossom glanced at the arms; Bubbles had enough autonomic control to keep them hovering above the floor. She pursed her lips and nodded approvingly. And they kept hovering, calmly, as Bubbles waited for Blossom to finish. She looked down and saw Buttercup, sleeping on the sofa. Buttercup was making a sad face and muttering in her sleep.

  Bubbles craned her head... What's she dreaming about? She closed her eyes, slowly concentrating.



  She held his hand. "Master, you can't die! I need you. I can't—"

  The monk, her mentor, rasped as he spoke. "Buttercup, it is my time. All things must come to an end. Please, accept my death and continue living."

  "No! No, I can't do this without you, I'm... I'm too angry! Bubbles—I don't want to do these things I'm doing, but I can't... I can't help it."

  "We can always control our actions." His breathing was deep and he looked up at her meaningfully. "Anger is a part of life. It is impossible to run away from anger, but all things must be in balance. Anger tips the scale. First, admit that you are angry, and then focus away from that anger."

  "Yeah, but..." She turned her eyes away. "I just... I'm angry all the time, I—"

  "Search, Buttercup. You must find that which makes you happy. Be it crime fighting, friendship, family... go out and find it, and free yourself of anger." He laughed, and then coughed, as it became too much for him. His breathing became more shallow.

  "Master!"

  He held up one hand, barely, to ease her concern, and then took a breath, looking her in the eyes. "Go, Buttercup. You have the strength... to accomplish... any goal you... set out for. Use that strength—be good... and do not miss me."

  "I can't help—I mean, I'll miss you no matter what—Master!"

  He rolled back and folded his hands over his chest, smiling, even as his breathing became impossibly slow.

  "Master! Please, don't leave me!"

  He kept smiling, though, as she tried to bring him back. He was at peace.

  And then he took one final breath, and was gone.

  She stared, blood draining from her face—he lay, lifeless, but smiling.

  She collapsed to her knees, and cried at his wake, as her tears dripped to the floor.



  Bubbles cast her eyes downward. So that's what happened. She had never met the man in her vision, but she felt Buttercup's tears as if they were her own.

  "...bles."

  She closed her eyes. It took all she had to hold back the tears.

  "Bubbles?"

  Her eyes snapped open as Blossom pressed her hand against her shoulder, and she looked up in surprise. She was mostly dry but for her hair, and had changed into a white tee and pink sweat pants.

  "Are you all right? I said, it's your turn. Go ahead."

  A beat passed before Bubbles blinked and nodded. "Right. Sorry, my mind was... elsewhere."

  She went into the bathroom before Blossom could comment, and closed the door behind her.

  Bubbles stepped into the tub and sank into the water. Warm. Soothing. Relaxing.

  She was worried. About Blossom. About Buttercup. About the Professor.

  The sounds of his sobs brought the girl from upstairs in the living room, downstairs to the laboratory. She peered into the dim room, and saw him, sitting alone, head in his hands, at his workbench. The single fluorescent light in front of him cast a gloomy haze on the room. She frowned sadly as she came closer, hovering towards him.

  He looked at her out of the corner of his left eye, and turned to see her. "Bubbles."

  She cast her eyes askance, trying to find something to say.

  His hands were folded and he looked like he was in pain. "I tried, Bubbles. I... I was just trying to be a good father, Bubbles. But I'm not... I'm no good. I can't—I can't even..."

  A moment of silence followed. "I think you're a good father."

  He looked at her, smiled, and pulled her into his arms, kissing her on the cheek. "I love you, Bubbles."

  "I love you, too, Professor."

  "...but I don't know what to do."

  Her soft sniffles came through as she hugged him back.

  "I didn't know that she would react like that..."

  "Professor..."

  "I wasn't prepared for... for this..."

  She opened her eyes, and for the first time looked at his workbench. Laying on its surface was a single black-and-white plastic sheet... an X-ray.

  A single broken rib.

  Bubbles' clenched eyes opened even as her cool tears dripped into the hot water... the memory... she could feel her other arms twitching... she tried to stop them, but the shudders kept coming.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the arms.

  Her expression widened. "Oh—oh..."



  After a moment of silence and idle thoughts, an earthquake seemed to be happening in the bathroom, and then it was silent. She was about to speak, but Bubbles beat her to it. "Blossom? Could you... give me a hand?"

  She blinked. "Yeah, sure." Opening the door and putting one foot into the room, her eyes went wide. What she saw surprised her, but she still walked the rest of the way in and shut the door behind her. The arms were waylaid across the room; one was hooked over the rail for the curtain; one lay over the toilet and went into the sink; another faked itself across the rug, and one was embedded in the wall, above the bathtub. Soap, toothbrushes, razors and the like were strewn across the floor, the arms having knocked them all over. Bubbles sat in the tub, hugging herself, concealing her body with her own arms. Was she simply being modest, or was she not used to having family in the room while she changed?

  She almost seemed hesitant to speak. "I... can't get my back," she said after Blossom had closed the door. She was facing away. Even if she saw what her arms did, there was nothing she could do about it; Blossom knew that as well.

  "Uhh... Sure. I'll help you." After a moment, Blossom found the soap on the floor and picked up a washcloth. "Lean forward."

  Bubbles did as she was told. The arms barely shifted with her as she adjusted her posture. Blossom wet the cloth and rubbed it against the bar of soap. She looked up at Bubbles' bare back, trying to figure out just how she was supposed to clean the grid to which the arms were fixed. Finally, she touched the area experimentally with the wet, soapy rag.

  Nothing happened.

  She washed the top—around the first set of arms—and then further, expecting at any moment that an arm would suddenly swing to the side and knock her unconscious, but they never moved. And then she was finished, and she rinsed off the soap. Nothing had happened. Everything was fine. Apparently the area was waterproof. She wondered if the arms were rustproof as well, but certainly only whoever did this to her would know the answer to that. She started to wonder about the real purpose of the limbs, and why they'd been attached to her sister, and then...

  Bubbles wiggled uncomfortably. "Blossom?"

  "Oh!" She snapped her hand away and rinsed off the cloth in the tub. "All done."

  She nodded. "I'm... fine now... I'll... just...."

  "Yeah, you finish up." Blossom winced, and started to back out of the room.

  "Blossom?"

  She stopped, and turned. Bubbles looked over her shoulder at her, and smiled.

  "Thanks."

  She smiled back as she shut the door.



  Blossom waited outside as Bubbles finished up in the bath. She looked over the banister again. Buttercup was gone from the couch. She looked around, but she didn't see her. Where did she go?

  The door opened and Bubbles stepped out wearing her blue pajama bottoms with the orange sunflower pattern, but she had her towel pressed against her chest with a bit of cloth coming from between her arms. Her other arms floated shakily behind her, covering up her back. "I can't get my shirt on," she said, embarrassed, and extending the ball of torn cloth that was her shirt to Blossom.

  Blossom sighed. "We're gonna have to help you figure that out. Hold out your arms."

  She helped Bubbles dress, and then they headed downstairs.

  The stairs thumped softly beneath Blossom's feet.

  Buttercup closed the front door behind her after with yesterday's mail in her hand. She turned to the closet by the door and threw the bundle of papers carelessly inside. She passed the stairway, and her eyes met Blossom's. She all but jumped back, as if seeing a ghost. And then she relaxed, blushing. "Hey, Bloss."

  Blossom's expression grew a little forlorn, with just a hit of irritation. "Morning, Buttercup." She looked towards the kitchen. "You didn't happen to make breakfast again today, did you?"

  "Huh?" The idea came around to the front of her brain and she realized how hungry she was. "Oh, no. I didn't even start yet."

  "Good, then it's my turn. You and Bubbles watch TV. I'll make breakfast."

  Blossom bounded towards the kitchen, and Bubbles shrugged in time with Buttercup.

  Buttercup looked at Bubbles, and then behind her. She winced just slightly.

  Bubbles returned her gaze, and faked a smile. "Good morning, Buttercup."

  "Morning." She turned away and sat on the sofa tried to relax. But her mind was elsewhere.

  "Come on, Bloss, it's time for the show!"

  "That wrestling thing?"

  "It's the freakin' Doubleyew-Doubleyew-Eff! Come on! I've been waiting all month for this! They play cartoons all the time!"

  "But I'm watching this.

  "Just change the channel!"

  "Just watch it in the TV upstairs!"

  "But this one is High-Def'!"

  "Ugh. Fine. I'll go upstairs. Enjoy your show. Wrestling's fake anyway."

  "It is so not fake! You suck! Go away!"

  Blossom sighed and floated upstairs, and Bubbles followed behind her, looking back for only a moment, sadly, before turning back to Blossom.

  Buttercup changed the channel and glanced over her shoulder, watching them disappear into the bedroom.

  She turned back to the TV. She could always apologize later.

  But she never did... never really thought it was that important... they were a family, after all. She could apologize now... but she knew it would seem silly. She kept quiet.

  She tightened up her cheeks; she shook her head; she tried to concentrate on the TV; she sighed.

  Bubbles frowned sympathetically, and all six of her arms drooped. She walked over and took a seat on the couch, and the arms draped themselves over the back almost naturally. Buttercup glanced at her and then back at the TV, and sat in silence. Idly, the two of them watched the screen. Buttercup's eyes shot to Bubbles for just a moment. She grew restless, and then handed Bubbles the remote. "Wanna watch something? I'm gonna take a shower."

  She took it from her gently. "Sure. Thanks."

  "Yeah," she replied and jumped off the couch, flying upstairs in a hurry. Closing the bathroom door behind her.

  Why is it so hard to be in the same room with her? She felt her hand scratching the back of her neck.

  She disrobed and stepped in front of the mirror, and stared at her reflection. She touched her scars one after another, starting with the one on her left eye—

  A big, pink claw.

  —and then on the side of her neck—

  It tore at her skin.

  —she moved her hand back, to the patch below her shoulder—

  His teeth sank into her back.

  —and then she stared at the ones on her right fist—

  She punched him in the mouth.

  —she rubbed them in a daze. She shifted her gaze to her chest, at the one long scar that ran from her right shoulder to her left leg and around the knee.

  One huge swipe.

  She still remembered that day... and what happened after. She shuddered. Pushed the unpleasant memory back.

  Now she was looking at the edges of her scar. The other day, they seemed a little cracked... now they seemed a little more flush.

  But it was a scar. It wasn't going to heal all the way.

  She fully undressed, and turned on the water. Her hand tested it. No burning today.

  She was out in a matter of minutes, dried, redressed and came downstairs just as Blossom finished setting the table.



  Blossom's breakfast was more palatable than Buttercup's, and the three of them ate happily, having a decent meal for the first time since they had gotten back home several days ago. Buttercup scarfed her eggs, crunched her bacon, and chugged her milk quickly, ravenously. Bubbles giggled, and Blossom couldn't bring up the will to chastise her. She was just happy that this could take place, that she could see it happen. Besides, they were home. It didn't really matter how she ate.

  The window glowed behind her.

  Blossom looked outside. "It's such a lovely day, isn't it?"

  Buttercup looked outside. "It's pretty bright out, yeah."

  Bubbles looked outside, and her eyes seemed to sparkle. "Look! A butterfly!"

  Blossom saw it and watched it flit by, but Buttercup paid no mind, and looked away.

  Bubbles' expression changed and she glanced at Buttercup, but remained silent.

  Blossom noticed the moment, frowned, and then looked at the ceiling in thought. "Hey guys, what do you say we go out today?"

  Bubbles' eyes went wide and stared at her in shock. Buttercup's was more of dull surprise. "You sure about that, Blossom? You've been... well, dead... for a long time."

  "Yeah, I know. I think it's time to let everyone know I'm back. I'm looking forward to surprising everyone. Especially Miss Bellum."

  Buttercup grinned. "Yeah, right! Hang on, I'll go get ready." Scarfing the rest of her food, she flew upstairs.

  Blossom looked at Bubbles for the first time since she had made her suggestion. She did not look remotely happy. "Bubbles?"

  Bubbles—looking away, her hand pressed against her lips, her eyes cast downward... she looked pale.

  "You don't want to go outside?"

  She shook her head quickly.

  "Hm." I guess it can't be helped. "It's okay, I don't really blame you. If you don't wanna go, then I won't either."

  "Oh, no! I—"

  "What?!"

  Blossom looked over, and Bubbles turned, to Buttercup. She had returned, and her expression had gone sour. "Why don't you wanna go?"

  Bubbles looked at Blossom.

  "Buttercup, she's obviously hurt over the arms. She's—"

  "Oh, come on! Yeah, they're pretty creepy, but so what? What does she care?"

  Blossom glowered at her. "Don't you think if some guy experimented on you, you'd want to keep hidden?"

  She scoffed. "So do you wanna stay home, too?"

  She shot out of her chair, slamming her hands on the table. "Buttercup!"

  "Didn't you wanna let everyone know you're alive? You haven't seen anyone in years! Everyone thinks you're dead." She paused. "And you look dead. You could use some sun."

  Blossom scoffed. "I'm not leaving without her."

  Buttercup rolled her eyes and threw up her arms. "Ya ain't keepin' me in here. Everyone knows I'm alive..." She opened the door, and before they knew she was gone, the door had already slammed shut.

  Blossom sat there, seething, staring at the door. The silence was deafening.

  Bubbles looked over at her. "Please don't call her that."

  They froze. Blossom, and Bubbles an instant later in turn. Bubbles gulped.

  After a long pause: "I didn't say anything."

  "...No, you didn't."

  "Out loud, anyway."

  "...I know."

  Blossom's heart thumped wildly. "Is it... hard?"

  She shook her head. "Not really. You and Buttercup are pretty... uh... loud."

  Blossom looked away. "Can you... even stop?"

  "Uh..." she sighed. "Well... I get distracted, but..."

  "...you don't really stop. I mean, you haven't, at least."

  "Well, it's really hard right now. You're... um... really... fast. And getting... faster."

  "Am I... hurting you? Has it ever hurt?"

  "No, you're not. It hasn't hurt at all... um... yet."

  "Does Buttercup know?"

  She shook her head.

  "Hm." She thought about it. "It's probably better that she doesn't... at least not yet, huh?"

  Bubbles looked up and smiled.

  She smiled back. "So... what do you wanna do today?"

  After a moment of thought, she looked at Blossom and her smile widened.



  Buttercup floated on her back, in the clouds, frowning darkly. Unbelievable. Her heartbeat was in her ears and in her eyes. Sighing, she swung out at the cloud around her, knocking away the cold immaterial vapor.

  "...eeeelp!"

  As she hit the cloud, the sound came through. She turned, wide-eyed, rolled out of the cloud—free-falling to Earth. With a blast of cold air, in front of an old lady laying on the grass by the street. "Are you okay?"

  The old lady looked up at her fearfully for just a moment, then her eyes shifted, and she pointed down the street. "That man stole my purse!"

  Buttercup turned, seeing the fugitive, and sped towards him. As he ran, he looked over his shoulder.

  "AHHH!!" He dropped the purse in fright and ran faster.

  She stopped over the purse, watching the criminal get away. Looking down, she saw the purse. She picked it up—

  After Blossom died, Buttercup patrolled on her own. The same lady with the same purse. Buttercup handed it over.

  The old lady was afraid and unsure. "Th-thank you... uh, B-Buttercup." She shuffled away in a hurry, as if afraid to be anywhere near her. She wouldn't even look her in the eye.

  "Pfuh," Buttercup muttered. "Next time do it yourself."

  She shook her head and sped back. "Here." She handed it to the lady, who dug through, making sure that nothing was missing and clutched it to her chest. "Oh... Thank you, Buttercup. Thank you."

  "Thank you, girls. How would you like some bubblegum?"

  "Heck yeah. Thanks, lady."

  Yeah... they had all had to deal with this old lady a bunch of times. Was she just unlucky with guys stealing her purse?

  And the criminal... she knew she had let him get away, and she felt bad about it... but she had made this old lady happy. For some reason, she felt... perfectly fine about it.

  She hesitated briefly. "Take care," she said, and flew away.

  She watched the city roll around her as she sat on top of the revolving restaurant. How was she supposed to feel? She hadn't felt like this since... back then.

  She rolled back on to her hands, staring up at the clouds, and thought back.

  She nodded. "Good times."