Chapter XIV
Baby Steps

There was a quick squeak of a magic marker as it was forced to make a mark against the stone wall of the prison cell. Its owner smirked as he sealed the cap on the utensil. On the wall were hundreds of tallies, something that wasn’t at all uncommon to find in each cell.

“Not long now,” the man said as he went to reside on his cot. “I’m not going down that easily,” he said. He lifted up one leg and crossed it over the other. “Two more days, and the fun begins.”

0ooooooo0

Mojo’s silence over the last few days had been troubling to Blossom and mainly because she knew that she was the reason for it. Her only defense for her conscience was that Mojo needed to get it out of his system. He needed to tell somebody. Blossom had always believed that sharing one’s pain was the first step to healing, but now she was beginning to rethink that logic. Now Mojo wouldn’t even look at her, nor would he respond every time she greeted him. It was becoming heart-wrenching.

It had already been three days. Surely he couldn’t keep up this silent treatment forever, could he? Well, this was Mojo. Stubbornness was his greatest defense, after all. But he wasn’t the only one who could be stubborn.

Blossom waited patiently in her room, a book laid against her legs, which were pulled up close to her chest. She had already read the thing a dozen times, but she needed something to entertain herself while she waited for Mojo to bring her her next meal. The hours crept along agonizingly slowly, and Blossom was at the point where she thought she would fall over from boredom, but she instantly became alert and focused when she heard the knob jiggle as Mojo unlocked the door to enter.

“Thanks for knocking,” said the Puff sarcastically. “I could have been naked, you know.”

Mojo shrugged. “I am certain you had nothing to show.”

What an ass. Oh well, at least he was speaking to her.

The chimp set Blossom’s meal down on the desk and quickly turned to leave. The teen knew that as soon as he walked out that door she probably wouldn’t see him again for another twelve hours.

“Mojo, will you just stop it already?!”

The villain came to a halt, his hand resting on the doorknob. He made no response, but Blossom could practically see his lips mouthing silent curses and insults.

“I’m sick of this, okay? I’m sick of you not talking, I’m sick of you not even looking at me, or acknowledging me when I talk to you! I’m sorry, okay? I just thought if you told someone, you’d feel better.”

Mojo snorted in disgust, though he took a moment to note the irony of the Puff’s words, remembering when he had been the one trying to coax her out of her silence, and he was still kicking himself over that. “That is a bunch of nonsense. How does reliving every last detail of one’s traumatic ordeal possibly make one feel better?” Mojo finally turned to face the teen. “You just can’t understand. There are some things that cannot be forgotten, things that cannot be healed, or forgiven!”

“How do you think I felt? You fooled me into thinking you actually cared about me. I put all my trust into you and you threw it in my face. You broke my heart…but I can honestly say that I forgive you now.”

Mojo looked more disgusted now than ever.

“And why is that? Is it because you pity me now? Is that it?!”

“Mojo-”

“Just shut up! I am through listening to you!”

Mojo gave the teen no time for a response. The familiar sound of the door slamming followed his final words, leaving Blossom alone once more to process her thoughts. She stared sadly at the plate of food that sat a few feet away on the desk, knowing full well that her appetite had left her. She abruptly turned and threw her face into her pillow, the fabric becoming stained with the continuing flow of tears within an instant. Her entire body shook with loud, violent sobs, though they were easily muffled against the pillow.

It was more than she could bear. Mojo had suffered alone for so many years. All of the destruction and violence was all an extension of his fury and pain. It had become a drug for him, a dangerous drug that did more harm than relieve the pain. If only she had known. She could have turned his life around a long time ago, but she had always seen the world as being black and white. Her obsession with thwarting evil and protecting those who fell victim to it prevented her from seeing the gray.

But she couldn’t blame herself. After all, Mojo had never been open about his past to anyone until now. But his destruction and mayhem was proof enough that he wasn’t suffering in silence. She should have reached out to him a long time ago, but his betrayal prevented that. She could never get past that fact that he had used her for his own gain, and then tossed her aside once she was no longer of any use to him. Her entire life she had regarded his betrayal as that of evil and wickedness and nothing more, but it was clear to her now that her own suffering and broken heart simply stemmed from Mojo’s anguish. But it was never too late. Maybe she just had to keep reaching out to him, no matter how many times he turned her down. Obviously things were going to be rocky for right now, but the fact that she had managed to get Mojo to be open with her about something he had never breathed a word of to anyone else his entire life could easily be compared to making a leap over the Grand Canyon. From there on out, it was just baby steps.

Blossom rolled over onto her back and wiped her eyes. Just baby steps she told herself.

0ooooooo0

Mojo’s face became illuminated as the lights to his lab flickered on. Eyes narrowed, he scanned every square foot of his work station. Robots, lasers and other inventions of the past were scattered all around. It was a gallery of sorts. All the gadgets had seen a battle at least once, though they had all failed each time. Some of the devices he managed to restore, while others he left to collect dust.

The chimp came to stand in the center of the room. “What does she possibly know?” he growled, staring at his Robo Jojo with malice. “Nothing!” he yelled, looking now to one of his ray guns. “She knows nothing!” He stormed over to the north side of the lab, finding the storage cubbies which housed dozens of blue prints. Most of them had been stored away on a temporary hiatus. He randomly grabbed one of the rolled up blue prints and threw it down onto his desk, quickly rolling it open to see its progress. “But she thinks she knows everything.”

Mojo stared down at the blue paper with growing anger. He grabbed a well-used pencil, every inch of which was covered in teeth marks. “I will show her,” he said through gritted teeth. He touched the tip of the unsharpened pencil to the paper, waiting for the inspiration to come as it had so many times in the past, but the utensil didn’t produce so much as a scribble. He didn’t let it hinder his determination, however. We waited patiently, searching his oversized brain for that one spark of creativity, but the minutes continued to tick by and the pencil remained motionless.

Suddenly, he heard what sounded like drops of water pitter pattering onto the paper. Looking down, Mojo noticed several dark spots dotting the blueprint. His vision became distorted and he heard the soft pitter pattering sound again, and it was then that he realized that they were tears. Shocked and disgusted with himself, his hands flew to his eyes and he rubbed at his eyes furiously.

“You weak-minded fool,” he said to himself, still wiping his eyes. As the tears continued to flow, Mojo gave up on trying to keep them at bay. In a fit of rage, he grasped the blueprint in both hands and tore it to shreds.

Letting out a shaky breath, Mojo placed his arms atop his work table and buried his face in them, giving up the fight and allowing himself to cry freely.

0ooooooo0

Blossom rolled over and looked at the clock in annoyance. She couldn’t have had no more than a few hours of sleep, and it was already eight o’ clock in the morning. There was no point in her going back to sleep, as she knew Mojo was going to be coming in any second now, which she was dreading. His last visit left no room for doubt that he was distraught and didn‘t want to be within so much as ten feet of her, but Blossom still held firm to the belief that it was for the best. This was all just a healthy process of emotions, and best of all, Townsville wasn’t paying the price this time. The way she saw it, Mojo had simply been walking down a darkened path all his life, and now someone was shining a bright light in his face. It would be agitating and confusing at first, but soon his eyes would adjust, and maybe then he would be able to see a much better path. Of course if she outright said that to him, she knew she’d be picking up her teeth from the floor.

But then what if it backfired? What if all this just made him more infuriated and hell-bent on destruction? Considering how emotionally unstable Mojo was, it didn’t sound so farfetched. The thought made the teen’s heart fall into the pit of her stomach. Should she just back off? Forget everything that had been said and move on?

The door suddenly opened, bringing the teen out of her thoughts. As Mojo silently entered the room, Blossom lifted her eyes but did not lift her head. Though her bangs mostly shielded her eyes, Mojo knew she was looking his way, though he said nothing. However, the look he sent her way clearly said, “I’m ignoring you.” Giving it one last thought, she knew she couldn’t back out now.

“Mojo, listen…”

Oh, if looks could kill.

The redhead ignored the chimp’s murderous glare and went on, “I know you don’t want to hear anything I have to say, but-”

“Then that should be a fairly good indication for you to shut up,” Mojo interrupted. “That is to say remain silent, mute, aphonic; do not move your lips at all in a way that produces your insufferable mutterings that I do not wish to hear!”

Blossom clutched her comforter tightly as the wave of frustration passed.

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“Right, because that is your duty,” Mojo scoffed, leaning back against the desk.

“I’m not trying to help you because I feel I have to. I want to help you. Is that really so hard for you to understand?”

Silence.

Blossom took a deep breath. “I want to know…do you think about your mother often?”

Mojo debated with himself on whether to just walk out that door or kill the Puff. But somehow he felt that if he walked out that door, he would be deeming himself a coward, which would only give more credibility to Blossom’s words.

“Every day,” he answered through clenched teeth.

Blossom looked a bit surprised at having received an honest answer. “And…do you think she would approve of what you’re doing?”

Blossom saw Mojo’s hand grip the back of the chair that sat just a foot off to the left of him. She held her breath as she waited for him to fling it at her, ready to throw herself out of the way if he moved even the slightest bit. She knew the question was close to crossing the line, or it may have already been crossing the line, but she had come this far.

“Mojo, didn’t you ever once stop and ask yourself if maybe things do happen for a reason?” she asked, trying a different approach. She leaned back in fear as Mojo swiftly marched over to her and leaned in dangerously close, teeth bared and eyes narrowed.

“Are you trying to suggest to me that my mother’s death was justifiable?!” he shouted.

“N-No, Mojo!” Blossom stuttered, leaning back as far as she could. “What happened to your mother was deplorable and nothing could possibly justify it. But at the same time, you have to look at what you gained: you have vast knowledge, you have independence…you’re no longer under the thumb of man.” The teen sighed. “Look…I don’t really know how to say it in a way that doesn’t make it sound like I’m excusing your mother’s death, I’m just trying to get you to see that what you have really is a gift.”

Mojo drew away from her, turning his back to her sharply. “Every day is Christmas,” he replied sarcastically, his tone bitter.

Blossom buried her face in her hands. “God, Mojo, how can I get you to understand? Do you not seewhat you can do with the knowledge you have? All you’ve done is taken that knowledge and used it to extend your anger to the entire world through destruction and pain. I know you’ve suffered, but there are creatures of all kinds that suffer just like you did every day at the hands of man and will continue to suffer, and what you’re doing doesn’t help them! It doesn’t help them, it doesn’t help you, it doesn’t help anyone! If you want things to change, you’re going to have to change first, Mojo.”

Blossom took a moment of pause, allowing her nemesis time to respond if he wished, but when he remained silent, she went on:

“Just think of what you could do. You could take your knowledge and use it to better the lives of your own species and others. They don’t have a voice; you do. You’re exactly what they needed all these years, and not just them but humans, too.”

Mojo snorted as he went to stand in front of the window, arms secured behind his back as they usually were whenever he was deep in though. “You make it sound like I am the Chosen One, or something of that creed.”

Blossom smiled softly as she glanced downward. “Yeah…I guess I am.” Eventually, she looked back over at the chimp, feeling surprisingly lightheaded as he continued to stare out the window in silence. The more she observed him, the more she felt she had gotten through to him, or at the very least left a huge crack in the ice. She didn’t know how much longer she had to keep chipping away, but she felt like she was close to the other side now.

“I think it would be a great honor to your mother‘s memory,” she added a bit nervously. She wasn’t surprised to see the chimp stiffen at the mention of his mother, but he did not shout at her for it.

“I‘ve heard enough,” he said curtly as he turned and made his way for the door. His quick exit and lack of response wasn’t a shock, nor was it in any way troubling to the teen. The fact that he had heard everything that needed to be said was what was important. Now it was up to him.

0ooooooo0

Mark lifted his gaze as the sound of numerous footsteps approached his cell. It was not a foreign sound, but this time they had a chilling, foreboding echo. They grew louder, all of them out of rhythm, which made it easier for him to distinguish that there were at least three men. Finally, he smirked.

“Show time.”

The men approached the cell door, keys jingling as one of them moved to unlock it.

0ooooooo0

Blossom’s eyes fluttered open only to be greeted by darkness, save for the little bit of light from the nearby city that flowed in through the window. She sat up slowly and ceased her breathing for just a moment so she could catch whatever sounds were coming from the other side of the door; she could have sworn she heard something fall over. She looked towards her clock and noticed it was after eleven. She never recalled Mojo being up this late very often.

Throwing her covers aside, she stood up and quietly made her way towards the door. She listened for Mojo’s voice, knowing that he often talked to himself, no matter what he was doing. Perhaps he was having trouble sleeping and decided to get up for a late night snack, but she could hear the person’s footsteps on the other side of the door, and they were very slow and quiet as the person walked. Blossom didn’t think Mojo cared about her getting a good night’s rest that much that he’d be quiet while he was up. But suddenly she heard another pair of quick, heavy footsteps, and she knew instantly that they belonged to Mojo.

“Who’s there?” she heard him demand and instantly she knew something wasn‘t right. She got down on the floor and tried to peek through the tiny gap under the door, but the lack of light made it impossible for her to tell what was going on.

The next sound she heard was loud grunting and what sounded like wrestling. Mojo’s voice was evident but she could also pick up the sound of someone else grunting. The sound of furniture being knocked over and glass breaking made her heart skip a beat.

“Get out!” she heard Mojo yell, pursued by the sound of more glass breaking. Blossom suddenly felt her heart leap into her throat.

“Mojo!” she screamed, jumping to her feet and banging on the door. “What’s going on out there?! Mojo! MOJO ANSWER ME!” she screamed louder, wincing as her throat began protesting her high pitched vocalizations. “Mojo, what’s happening?! What‘s going on?!”

There was no answer except for what sounded like more wrestling and yelling. It sounded as though they were tearing the entire observatory apart, judging by how much stuff could be heard being knocked over through their rough exertions. “Mojo, who’s there?!”

The sound of a gunshot made Blossom’s blood run cold, and even more so when she was certain she heard a body hit the floor with a loud thud. Panicked, she grabbed the doorknob and started pulling as hard as she could, despite knowing that the door was locked. “Mojo!” she screamed, banging and kicking on the door. She leaned her head against the door, helplessness overtaking her. She could no longer hear the sound of destruction or yelling, which now she realized was a more comforting sound than a gunshot pursued by silence. But as she listened more closely and held her breath again, she could hear footsteps approaching her door.

Oh God, please be Mojo she thought as she began to slowly back away from the door, ignoring the irony of that thought. She saw the doorknob jiggle a bit, and then the sound of the lock being turned could just barely be heard. The door slowly opened and Blossom could faintly make out the outline of a tall man standing in the doorway. When she saw the gun in his hand she could feel herself growing weak.

“So you are here,” the man stated with amusement, taking a couple of steps into the room. Blossom thought she felt her heart drop when she recognized the voice.

“M-Mark?” she stuttered, taking a few more steps back.

“You remember me, huh?” he replied, amusement in his voice.

“How can I forget someone like you?” Blossom spat, continuing to match a step backwards for every step he took forward.

“So…shacking up with the monkey now? I thought you hated him?”

Blossom mentally cursed as she felt her back suddenly press up against the wall. “Why are you here? How did you escape?”

Mark shrugged, twirling the gun in his hand. “It was easy. Tonight I was scheduled to be executed. As soon as they came in to get me, I grabbed this here gun out of one of the officer’s holsters and just shot my way out. It was pretty easy. I guess it helps that Townsville is overrun by idiots.”

Blossom shuddered at the lack of emotion in the man’s voice.

“Where’s Mojo?” she asked softly, though she already knew the horrible answer to that. The man just grinned as he continued to twirl ‘his’ gun.

“I always hated that blabbering monkey. There wasn‘t a day that went by that I didn‘t see his face plastered all over the papers or heard his name mentioned on TV.”

The man suddenly took another step towards Blossom, who now had nowhere else to go. “Aren’t you going to come at me? Hit me, maybe? Or how about kill me? That’s what’s you want to do, isn’t it?”

“I’m not like you,” Blossom hissed through clenched teeth. Mark raised both brows.

“Oh really? You know, I remember hearing about you beating up that stupid monkey after you had thought him to be the killer. They said you would have killed him had they not pulled you off him. Not like me, hmm?”

Blossom looked towards the floor momentarily with shame. She shook with anger, wishing she still possessed her powers. “Shut up!” she screamed.

“Well…come on, then. Come at me.”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on. You said yourself how much you wanted to see me dead.”

“GET OUT!”

“What’s the matter? Need a little persuasion? Alright then.”

Mark suddenly raised the gun, causing the teen‘s eyes to widen. Paralyzed with fear, she remained where she stood, her blood running cold as Mark squeezed the trigger.

There was a scream, followed by the thunderous sound of a firing gun.

And then there was silence.

TBC…

Author’s Note: To all those who say Mojo/Blossom is less likely to happen than Brick/Blossom simply because Mojo isn’t human, consider this chapter a big middle finger to you all :D

I feel kind of lousy for writing such a terrible character like Mark. I admit, he was just a cardboard cut-out villain used as a plot device to bring Mojo and Blossom together and sort of make Blossom see that there are people far worse out there. I know I shouldn’t have done that. But…I guess it’s better that I used an OC rather than a canon character. I’ve seen a lot of people completely trash canon characters and turn them into the bad guys in order to make their pairing work. But I still feel really shitty for doing it. But I really didn’t know how I could have fleshed him out without making the story about him. I honestly just didn’t care about him -_-; Please forgive me, guys. I know this is a big no no.

Wow, 122 reviews! I’m amazed. Please keep them coming!