"Aaaaaaarg!!" A man about six feet tall , blondish hair, nice eyes, went spiraling from the 13th floor of the apartment complex.
The hoovering red haired girl below gazed up at the tumbling man in terrible surprise. "Oh no!" She directed her body upward, rising rapidly in hopes of catching the man and preventing the eminent death that would occur to him if he struck the pavement falling from that height. His much larger body thudded into hers, almost making her lose her momentum. She steadied herself, securing the man, who had fainted from fear in her arms, and lowered herself to the ground where the proper authorities stood waiting to take the man into custody. She passed him off to the awaiting officer. Then looked directly above her, to the broken window on the 13th floor where the man had fallen from. From the shattered pane poked the head of a young girl with savage green eyes and wild dark hair. The girl glared down at the red head, and disappeared from sight.
"Damn you BC..." She muttered under her breath, turning away from the reporter who was trying to shove a microphone in her face.
Blossom Utonium had had enough. Standing at 4 feet 6 inches tall, head of red hair shining and rippling down her back, pink eyes flashing, the unofficial leader of the super heroine trio known as the Powerpuff Girls, was pissed. It was the 4th time that month that BC had gone too far. Throwing people from deadly heights, beating them beyond all recognition, and practicing just plain cruelty that could be dubbed by the term of sadistic. Blossom was the leader, she was the one that was supposed to be able to keep everyone in check, but BC, the unruly sister, wouldn't listen.
"Blossom, it's almost 9." Bubbles, the sweet one, who would have almost seemed innocent if Blossom hadn't of seen her just recently deliver a kick so hard to a man's face teeth sailed from his mouth onto the street. Bubbles stood an inch shorter than Blossom, her blond hair tied in two perky high ponytails, her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed at the criminals they had just apprehended. She felt accomplished, and had apparently not seen what had just transpired with the plummeting man. Bubbles, the scatterbrained one, the dazed one, actually surprised them all by expressing her displeasure at what BC was doing. But unlike Blossom, she wasn't simply angry, she was concerned. What was going on in that girl's head?
"I know... I guess we better be getting home then," Blossom said with a sigh. Home to deal with BC... Joy. She couldn't wait...
"Where's Buttercup?" Buttercup. Bubbles was the only other person besides the Professor who bothered to call her that anymore. Ever since her enraged outburst during recess a few months ago at the name she hated so much, the nickname "BC" became her first and middle name.
Blossom shrugged, she gazed back up to the window, "Who knows? Maybe she went home already."
Bubbles frowned, "I saw what she did."
Blossom threw a look at her blond sister. So she did have eyes after all, "Yeah... that guy would have been street pizza if it weren't for me. We don't fight like that Bubbles. She used to understand that!"
Bubbles chewed her full lower lip like she always did when something troubled her. Pretty Bubbles spoiling her looks with the wrinkles she was putting in her face from pouting, Blossom thought bitterly.
The girls were 8 years old, and already beginning to grow out of their awkward phase they had initially entered the world in. Their eyes were becoming smaller, their noses grew more prominent, and they developed digits on their hands and feet. Bubbles was the pretty one, with full pink lips, golden skin, and eyes still maybe a little too large for her face giving her a "china doll" look.
"Something's wrong Blossom.," Bubbles said simply after a long pause. "The professor said just to give her time, she'll talk to us eventually. She has to."
"And when will this eventually be, huh Bubbles? After she's killed someone for a petty robbery?" Blossom rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's get home, it's almost bed time."
"Right," Bubbles agreed, her voice sad and quiet. Together the two sisters took to the air, and began their short flight home.
The professor was waiting for the girls in the den when they arrived home. "How was the fight? Anyone hurt?"
Bubbles shook her head, one of her ponytails hitting her in the face, "Everything went fine, Professor."
Blossom fought back a scowl unsuccessfully, "What's wrong Blossom? And where is Buttercup?" He scanned the room for his dark haired daughter who was nowhere to be seen.
"We were hoping she had come home already," Bubbles said in a small voice. "She left before we did..."
"And she did it again!" Blossom interrupted, she couldn't hold her discontent in any longer. "She almost killed someone else. She flung him from a 13th story window!"
"Maybe it was an accident..."
"It was no accident. She stuck her head out after I caught the guy, and glared bullets at me!" Blossom fumed. "Professor, she's going too far... someone's going to die. I don't know what to do... You've talked with her, I've fought with her..."
Professor Utonium sighed deeply at learning the events of the evening. Buttercup had always been the more violent one, the toughest fighter, but lately she had been going too far to prove her title. She had become almost antisocial, notes were coming home with her from school, she was always arguing with Blossom, and disappearing for disturbing periods of time during the day. The professor talked and talked with her, time and time again, and agreeably, and predictably, each time she would nod and say, "I won't do it again. I'm sorry."
What was going on in her head?
"Professor? What do we do?" Blossom pressed, gazing intently at the professor. Professor U sighed again as he appraised his red haired daughter. The girls' physical appearances had begun to change over the course of the years. Their features were becoming more proportionate, and they now hand five fingers and toes. They were becoming young ladies. Blossom's waist length hair swirled around her face as she whirled in frustration. She wore fringed bangs that just touched her eyes, and had done away with the large trademark red bow she used to wear in her hair a year ago. It looked too babyish, she had said. She had the look of a wild woman, her thick red eyebrows coming together as her face creased in anger, her skin flushed, and small lips pursed. Professor wondered what she would look like when she reached adult hood. She was a rather awkward looking child, who one day did have the potential to become a rather attractive woman.
"We should have a family meeting Blossom, " Professor said softly. "That way we can all talk, and express our concern."
"Do you think it will do any good?" Blossom wondered aloud.
"We'll see," Professor said with a light smile. "Why don't you girls go and start washing up for bed. I'll call you down when she comes in."
"Yes Professor," they said in unison. Bubbles skipped up the stairs humming a pop tune to herself as she traveled. Professor smiled, his little Bubbles... she wasn't the smallest of the girls, but she would always be known as the "little one." She was the true little girl of his children, the one who liked dolls, and crayons, and make believe. Pretty Bubbles, with her pretty dreams and fantasies. The other two were mature for their ages, sometimes too mature for their own good.
Professor sat down in front of the television, not really watching it, but liking the background noise it gave as he waited for Buttercup's entrance.
He'd instructed Blossom and Bubbles to go to bed around midnight, and sat up alone pacing. Buttercup had never stayed out this late. She was always pushing the rules, but this was being a bit much. Should he call the police? He'd sent the other girls to bed because of the hour, and because he hadn't wanted them to sit up and worry with him. Maybe he should wake them and have them search for their sister.
The front door opened slowly, and a tiny figure crept in quietly. Professor turned immediately to the door, and hurried to Buttercup who was closing the door softly. "Where have you been young lady? Do you know what time it is? Do you know how worried I've been?"
Buttercup stood still, her head slightly bowed, her hair damp... Her hair was always damp when she returned after hours. Why?
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I..."
"You won't do it again," Professor finished for her. He glared at the girl, "I am tired of hearing that you're sorry. You're not, because if you really were you wouldn't keep doing this to me. Now we're going to sit down on the couch, and we're going to talk. You're going to tell me what's going on with you." Laying a firm hand on her shoulder the Professor tried to guide Buttercup to the couch. He frowned when she resisted. "I don't want to talk. I'm tired. Why can't I just go to bed?"
"It's after midnight Buttercup, and you're just coming in. I don't think you should be able to call any of the shots, much less decide for yourself how you're going to spend the next hour of your life. Now come, sit. We're going to talk."
"I said I don't want to talk!" Buttercup shouted. She removed his hand from her shoulder using a little of her super strength. "You can't make me DO anything!"
"Buttercup," Professor gapped at her. Was she threatening him, challenging his authority? And what could he do against her? She had the power of 100 Professors, 200 Professors.... He stared, "You don't know what you're doing."
"I know what I'm doing!" Buttercup grumbled. "I'm going to bed." With that, she huffed past him dripping water onto the floor, and floated up the stairs.
Blossom sat up in bed after Buttercup's entrance. She'd heard, with her supersonic hearing, the altercation that had gone on downstairs. She knew Bubbles had too, but she feigned sleep to avoid confrontation. Bubbles was such a pacifist. Well someone had to let Buttercup know that is was not ok for her to disrespect the Professor like that, or any other of her elders. Buttercup had slipped off her long pants and t-shirt, and was about to plod to the bathroom in her underwear, leaving her clothes in a soggy pile on the floor, when Blossom placed herself in her path. "Move it Red."
"BC, you were supposed to be in at 9...it's past midnight. Where have you been?"
"None of your business," Buttercup tried to push past her, but failed as Blossom kept her boxed in from leaving.
"I heard you threaten the Professor."
"I didn't threaten him!"
"You challenged his authority! You let him know that he had no real control over you. BC, you can't do that to people..."
"Look, I didn't mean it. Of course I listen to him...I just...I didn't want to talk! I don't want to talk! Will everyone just get out of my face, and leave me alone! Im back! I go to school, I do my homework....I fight monsters... Leave me alone!" She gave Blossom a hard push, sending her sister flying into the wall behind them, then stormed out of the bedroom at top speed.
Blossom pulled herself from the steel reinforced walls. The Professor, once he realized that girls' innocent, yet rather destructive nature, had the house redone with steel lining to save himself from future renovation fees. Blossom glared after the path her sister had taken, and brought herself back to bed, sitting in her designated area brooding. She folded her arms over her chest and bowed her head. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail that kept it from falling into her face.
She felt Bubbles shifting on her side of the bed, and looked to see her sister's blue eyes opened and focusing on her. "So you finally decide to quit pretending to be asleep, huh? Why didn't you stop Buttercup from throwing me into that wall?"
Bubbles frowned, "I told you to leave her alone Blossom."
"You heard what she did to the Professor..."
"The Professor didn't take action, so what give you right to?"
"He doesn't have super powers...He's afraid of her! I can defend myself!"
"The Professor made us, you don't really think he wouldn't have a way of dealing with us if something ever happened...? He's a genius Blossom."
Blossom bit her lip... Bubbles was not as dense as she acted most of the time. She was actually very bright, and extremely intuitive. She knew a lot of things that no one ever gave her credit for.
"He's trying to give her room Blossom. Why don't you do the same? She'll talk when she's ready. You're just running her off. Next time...next time she might not come back, if she thinks she's going to get THIS every time she does."
Blossom huffed, Bubbles was right, but she didn't want to admit it, "Where else would she go? She's 8 years old. She has to come home to eat, to sleep."
"She's not a normal 8 year old...none of us are. You really thing we couldn't survive on our own?"
Blossom was silent. "She's going to get someone killed."
"Hope it won't come to that to get her to open up, then," Bubbles said softly, then shut her eyes and rolled back over , this time to really get some sleep.
She would never be able to get herself clean enough, no matter how much she scrubbed, and the pure thought and feel of the filth that was beneath her skin brought back all the anger and frustration she thought she'd worked off! She sat in a bathtub of scalding water working furiously over her wrinkling skin with the harsh antibacterial bar soap. She'd poured a little Lysol into the scalding water as well, but she feared she didn't pour in enough...it wasn't burning as it usually did. Careful not to get into your eyes....she reminded herself. She had done that the last time, and it hadn't been pleasant. She scrubbed some more with her little scouring pad, cringing as she felt it bite into her skin and draw blood. She had to get clean.
She climbed out of the tub, her skin burning and tingling, it hurt to touch it with a towel, so she had to let herself air dry. She peered at her reflection in the steamy mirror....what was reflected there almost brought her to breaking the glass. She saw a small weak bodied girl, with raw reddened skin, and a horrible tangle of black hair on her head...her eyes were much too large, her features too bland. Why had he wanted her? She was too ugly for anyone to take interest in... It had to be because she was weak. She couldn't fight him. He had managed to overtake her. Weak, weak, weak! She pulled at her dark tangles.
"I hate you," she spoke to the reflection her voice dripping with venom, "I hate you!" She found herself on the floor just before the sink, as her knees had apparently given way, and there she cried while the frigid tile of the bathroom floor soothed her burning skin.
What good was a heroine who couldn't even protect herself?