The Girls Are All Grown Up

Ch. 41

Well the Blues had an...emotional time, the Reds had an enlightening talk, now time for the Greens~

I gotta say Blossick had always been my favorite couple when I was younger, but in this story... reading back over my old writing pieces and picking it back up, I realized I love things about each couple to where now I don't have a favorite anymore.

Is it like that for any of you guys too?

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Something whizzed by Butch's head in the dark room he and the Professor sat in, slamming into the wall behind him with a loud THUNK!

''Get down!'' he hissed at the Professor as he shoved him to the floor and down.

Butch clenched his fists and braced to fight when they struck next. He couldn't see them at all, but he could feel that they were there.

Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.

Butch gasped in pain as something swiped his side and tore the skin. Jumping back, he pressed a hand to the wound and felt the blood dripping down. What had they slashed him with?

Whoever was in this room with them was very fast.

Terror crashed through him as he thought of who else was in the room still. Someone Butch needed to get out of there and away to safety first.

The Professor didn't make a sound or resist at all as Butch threw the old man over his shoulder and slammed through the wall next to them. He seemed to be in shock at the events but followed Butch's lead as he got them out and into the hallways.

The room behind them stayed dark but was eerily more quiet now.

The lights came back on in the hallway, just flickering slightly.

The Ruff froze at the sight in front of him. 

Butch couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak.

All he could do was mouth her name. Buttercup.

It was her, she was right there. Blood staining most of her clothes, her shirt full of holes and rips showing she'd fought long and hard against something. Her hair had blood in it and looked like it hadn't been brushed in at least a week.

Everything was her...except her eyes.

They were completely black, no green, no pupil, and no white.

''Buttercup?" He whispered, his voice coming out raw even to his ears. Like a dead man's last croak.

''It's not her right now, Butch,'' The Professor groaned, reminding everyone (including the author) of his existence. ''She's in there, she can see and hear everything, but she's not in control of what they make her do right now.''

''What?" Butch glanced at the man in confusion, not wanting to turn fully away from Buttercup. ''How do we get her back?"

''Butch, that's not the issue right now. The hold can only last so long, they'll lose the connection to her soon, but'' the Professor stared past him to where his daughter stood with a haunted expression. ''Right now, her goal is to kill us so running would be great about now.''

Butch looked back to Buttercup and then the Professor with a pained look.

''You run, get to safety. But I'm not turning from her or running,'' he growled, finally setting the Professor down and stepping so he stood in between Buttercup and him.

''Butch, she could kill you right now and then hate herself forever for it! She won't be able to stop fighting, they did the same thing to Blossom and it took years for me to understand what had happened to my girls that night!!'' The Professor gripped his arm.

Buttercup cocked her head to the side, but made no movements to attack yet. 

She stayed still, watching them as if they were prey.

Butch tugged out of the old man's grip and shot him a despairing grin, ''If I go down, it's going to be by not giving up on her. And like you said-- she's still in there. If anyone can fight through hell and come out swinging, it's Buttercup.''

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 The Professor had a single tear slide down his cheek as he watched his worst nightmares come back to life. Bubbles had come to him and finally revealed a game the girls had to live by and the rules only a short time ago.

He'd been able to piece together so many missing pieces since then. Since the boys came to see him again, he'd put together what had happened that night all those years ago.

Far too late.

He'd failed his daughters all over again.

He stepped further back, but didn't run and didn't hide. He was the father of three beautiful, strong girls that had grown up. And one of them was there in front of him.

They'd forced themselves to grow up because they hadn't been able to look at each other or him after that night. His girls...had really thought he was better off thinking they were dead than seeing them live with their fears and regrets.

They had no idea that his worst fear had always been losing them. That them faking their deaths had utterly destroyed him more than anything else they could've ever done.

He watched as Butch slowly put his hands up and out as if to show he was no threat as he approached the possessed Buttercup. As if she were a wild animal ready to tear him apart.

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Welp.... Gotta say I have really missed tormenting characters...