Author's Note:

Hey there, RuffDraft here.

I thought I would start this part with a brief explanation as to why these chapters aren't getting updated as quickly as we all might like them to.

Well, first of all I'd like to put your mind at ease that we intend this to keep going for quite some time. Problems come up every now and again, but our progress is only hindered, not stopped.

As for me, I work full time for the U.S. Navy, so I get only a few hours every day between work and sleep (sometimes even on weekends), and even then it's majoritively housework with little time to actually take time out for writing. I do this as a hobby, so I often have to put my hobbies aside in order to get work done, take care of my own responsibilities, or just manage stress. But I try to put as much time as I can into this project.

My friend and co-author, BeeAre, suffers from a genetic disease that has no cure and causes intense pain most of the time; so he's often unable to participate in finishing the chapters during the times when my employment allows me the time to work on the story; he can't concentrate on writing when we need to do so. In spite of this, there are periods where he feels mostly normal, and it's during those times that we do try to get things done.

We want to be able to make this story as fully awesome as possible, and we don't want to crank out anything that's rushed and unfinished in any sense of those words, so we take our time. We hope you understand, and we sincerely thank you for your patience.

Also, we've made a small change to the previous part, so be sure to read it over (specifically during the part where the Professor goes down to the lab) for some additional context.

Thanks for reading thus far, and I hope you stick with us as the story progresses!

Co-Author's Note:

Hallo, BeeAre here.

Everything said previously is true, but we will soldier on (hehe). RuffDraft is very insistent about getting work done when we can line everything up. This story is a very long-running passion project involving both RuffDraft and myself's desire to create a story about the Powerpuff Girls in a way that properly gives them a superhero universe to rival that of any particular comic-verse you might find in a comic shop selling DC or Marvel paraphernalia. We intend that each chapter comes out in a way as to be a series of parts equalling "episodes" or "issues" to a story arc, and each chapter thusly an "ending" to a "season" or "issue arc".

Naturally, this means that we had to have bad things happen, and then experiment with writing styles that could convey "directorial" movement in order to let these bad things, like in life and a good graphic novel, represent problems to be overcome, just like the limitations we face in writing this story.

We want you all to enjoy every chapter, but we know that it will take time for things to work themselves out. Therefore, we, the authors, hope that you occasionally remember to swing by to see if we've gotten a new "episode" for you, and whether you like it or hate it, provide us with feedback to improve the story as we go, however quickly or slowly. Thank you for reading this little introduction - stemming partially from RuffDraft's guilt over the long absences due to his work in the Navy (hehe) - and we both hope you enjoy today's "episode"...

Chapter 3, Part 3: "Locked-Out Syndrome"

"...so he said, 'Oatmeal?! I can't even find the grits!' "

Bubbles noticed that while Robin was laughing louder than the other girls, she was... mentally rolling her eyes. But... fondly? The idea of her friends together was still strange.

The kids were still working on their dishes, with Mitch just finishing up his story from school as he began mashing the potatoes. Blossom and Bubbles handled the roast and Buttercup was helping Robin with a unique recipe—strawberry avocado salad—which she'd learned to make from her mother. Bubbles' attention was fixed on the oven, and she watched the juices and fats from the roast sizzle against the sides of the pan, and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of all the food.

It was all so... relaxing. For a moment, Bubbles felt the urge to cry again, but held back, and simply smiled down as she worked. She hadn't had a day like this in years. Just watching the bubbling in the pan. Just feeling what felt like ancient history come to life around her. Just feeling her family around her after it had been completely missing for so long. She knew she'd missed it. She knew she'd wanted this, and now that it was here, she wouldn't cry again. After she'd noticed it, it kept creeping up in the back of her mind. She had done nothing but cry for so long; it was hard to shake the habit, she realized. Even being happy made her tear up. Blossom looked up at her, and Bubbles knew her sister had seen her eyes faintly glistening as she pulled the tears back.

You remember I said it was okay to cry?

She was quiet, so the others wouldn't hear. "Maybe, but... Things are better. I can do more than cry now."

Good for you. Blossom smiled at her.

But then, suddenly, she felt strange. An unplaceable weirdness, like the wave of happiness was somehow suddenly washed away and replaced by... fear and anger?

...Buttercup?

No, looking at her, she was clearly not angry. She was carefully peeling an avocado.

Bubbles turned further, realizing that the emotion was coming from beyond Buttercup, in the direction of the lab. Was Dad upset about someth—

And then even as she stared at the entrance to the lab, the feeling went away, replaced by a feeling of ease... but it was off. Wrong somehow. Like it felt... fake; then, suddenly, with no warning, it felt... real. What? A flash of fatigue, replaced by idle positivity and rhetorical queries of how the roast was doing. What?

Bubbles took a step away from the oven, her hand against her forehead, trying to unfocus. So many swings of emotion... it was so dizzying. Why was this happening?

Blossom put a hand on her shoulder. "Bubbles, is everything okay?"

"I—" She considered explaining everything she had just felt, but with Robin and Mitch and Buttercup in the room, she wasn't sure that she wanted to let everyone know her secrets just yet. "Yes. I'm fine. I just... got a little lightheaded for a second."

Robin turned, her face hued with concern. "If you're not feeling well, it's okay to let us know, Bubbles."

"I know," Bubbles replied, smiling gently at Robin's concern. "Really, I'm okay."

Buttercup pointed towards the couch with the avocado in her hand. "You wanna lie down for a bit?"

Bubbles paused and almost smiled at Buttercup's concern, feeling how genuine it was, and clung to it for a moment. She glanced between the oven, Blossom, and the others.

"I..." She couldn't hold onto Buttercup's concern. Her only clear thought—the one she knew was her own—was that it was... weird. The fluctuations of emotion and thoughts were still going on, this time intermingling between dinner and the girls and the house and Jack Wednesday and dinner and Robin and Mitch and their Uncle Eugene and then back to dinner; it was making her dizzy all over again.

The door to the lab opened and Professor walked out. He saw her, and flashed a smile which, as he saw her stumbling, turned into a gaze of concern. ...Real concern.

...Why did she think that? Of course it was real, wasn't it? You couldn't fake emotions, could you?

She heard his "voice" for an instant. Did she— and then the ideas that became words in her mind ended. It was so abrupt, and yet he still gazed at her with what felt like concern. She was still half-listening, but didn't hear any other thoughts from him.

Say something! The thought popped into her head, not helping her dizziness. She wasn't sure if it was Blossom, or herself trying to calm the storm in her own mind.

She jolted a little and tottered on her feet a little more. She knew. She knew she had to stop. Stop thinking about it; otherwise she'd go crazy.

She shook her head with a careful slowness to clear it. "...I think I will," and she shook her head again, "...sit down, I mean," she finished, and rubbed her temples even though she knew it wouldn't help. On her way to the couch, she heard as her metal arms began to droop towards the carpet rather than keep pace behind her. Her concentration was wavering.

She felt Blossom drop into step beside her, heard her say something to the Professor about the roast. Blossom put her arms around Bubbles' back and shoulder, steadying her as they walked. Blossom carefully took hold of the roots of her metal limbs where they emerged from her back, making Bubbles shudder for a moment, but her sister was gentle. Slowly and patiently, she redirected them, stopping them from bumping into furniture as they walked. By now, the limbs were barely "walking" at all, more twitching to keep from outright dragging behind her like a collection of broken tinker toys sliding on the carpet.

When they got to the couch, Blossom helped her guide the metal arms over the back, adjusting pillows to account for their weight so Bubbles could sit down comfortably, before she fluffed her own pillow to sit beside Bubbles, rubbing her shoulder. All the while, she could hear Blossom's mind moving slowly, a quiet melody she was humming in her head. Bubbles realized her sister had been doing it the whole time as they walked, and her concentration was returning. As it did, she blinked. The melody was "Love Makes the World Go Round", specifically, Buttercup's low choral tones during their song's singing-in-the-round movement. It brought back gentle memories. She could feel the impulse to listen to the swirling emotions of the now fade away as she remembered something that was just... nice from the past.

Blossom grinned at her when she saw the look of realization, but the gentle melody in her head kept playing, slowing down even further for a just moment as the idea sprung up, mentally in tune with the melody: Emotional white noise, what do you think? What do you think, Bubbles?

Bubbles quietly marveled at her sister's quick—or rather ironically slow—thinking, and smoothly the melody returned to her head, still slow and calm. She closed her eyes for a long moment, and when she opened them, her voice didn't feel ragged. Yet another brilliant move, and again Bubbles was impressed by how well it had worked. "Thanks, Blossom."

"Any time." Then she dropped her voice. "So what did you not want to talk about in front of the others?"

Of course Blossom had known right away. Bubbles wondered if Blossom really was picking up on every little sign and signal that even Bubbles herself didn't know she was making... or if she was just that transparent.

"Bubbles, you are pretty easy to read."

Bubbles startled. "...How the heck—?!

"You were looking at me and then down at yourself. It doesn't take a big leap to suspect you're thinking about how smart I might be, and how not smart you might be. For one, you're definitely smart, so don't put yourself down like that. But... I am a lot faster now, with this computer in my brain." She tapped the side of her head, her fake eye faintly clacking. "I'm..." Blossom frowned a bit, "I'm sorry that I'm doing a lot of the talking. I know you don't like doing that, and now, well... I think can understand why. But I suspect you don't want to do much thinking right now. While I'm smarter than I was, what I can not figure out on my own is pure information in your head. Because I can't actually read your mind," but then she smiled faintly, "If I had to guess, though, it had to do with there being a lot of emotions in the room."

Bubbles nodded, hesitated, and then shook her head, wondering if she could really put it into words herself. "There were a lot, sure, but... It was more like... they were... bouncing and swirling?"

Blossom nodded, patiently, but paused uncertainly, her eyes betraying rare confusion. "Okay."

She struggled to explain. "It's like... they were just... all over the place. First I was feeling happy and calm. Like I was in... some sweet dream—I don't know how else to describe it. Then, suddenly the sweet feeling was gone and replaced by... fear and anger. I thought it might have been Buttercup, but... I... I think it was the Professor."

"The Professor," Blossom repeated curiously, still managing to keep her surprise to a whisper.

"And then he put on this... sudden calm... so sudden that—it—I... I felt like it was fake. Like it was someone barely keeping their... not-calm bottled up. Then... then it was real calm—or it felt like it. It was so different from what I'd just felt, like he'd had no reason at all to fake it in the first place."

Blossom put her hand to her chin, and Bubbles felt her begin to think. Deeply, but not that quickly. Slow, paced thoughts about the Professor's emotional well-being that, as Bubbles was beginning to read into them, began to blur together as Blossom's tendency to overthink began: her thoughts were starting to speed up.

Bubbles swallowed heavily, and continued. "And... and then the Professor was... thinking ...thinking about the roast, and then us, and then... then Mr. Wednesday—"

"...Jack Wednesday?" Blossom boggled, but Bubbles kept going.

"—And then dinner - again - and then Mitch and Robin, then us... It's just... his thoughts—they were all over the place." She shook her head again. "And... it's so... it's so weird..."

"Hm?"

"When he got here... his thoughts were so organized... right up until he saw you, of course."

Blossom's smile was sad and sardonic. "Makes sense..."

"Then, his thoughts were racing and frantic... but he'd steadied out since then. And then this... I just... I don't even know what it was. It wasn't the same as any of the other times." She looked up at Blossom suddenly; her mental voice, went from the beginning stirring speed that was tolerable, and then started to... "buzz", and it was loud.

Blossom's mind was utterly burning with thought.

Bubbles' voice was soft, "Jeez... that's fast."

Blossom only blinked once. "...Huh? Sorry, just... uh, hold on for a few seconds..."

Bubbles had to close her eyes, and yet it was like a bright light. She quickly turned her thoughts out of the house and into the street, searching for anything. A stray dog passed by, and she latched onto it like it was a life preserver. The dog was sniffing a hydrant tentatively.

Smell! Hard ground. Night soon? Other dog! Not here. Smell though! Must mark. Friend find me too!

Bubbles knew what it had in mind next, but that was preferable to focusing on the hurricane sitting next to her. She'd learned very quickly not to focus on Blossom when she was like this, or she'd be completely overwhelmed; it was easily more than the Professor's emotional roller coaster ride moments ago, but so contained that she could avoid it. After a few more seconds, Blossom's mind relaxed, and Bubbles audibly sighed with relief as the dog outside did the same. She was glad to have pulled away.

When her sister spoke, quietly bringing her back to the living room, it was cautious and measured. "First, Bubbles: I'm sorry that you had to... uh, run away from that."

"It's fine, there was just a dog outside peeing on a hydrant."

Blossom laughed, but winced. "Aha. Sorry again."

"What... uh, what were you thinking about?" Bubbles said, with such emphasis on the word "thinking" that her voice dropped nearly an entire octave for just a moment.

Blossom visibly fought the urge to begin thinking quickly again, squinting hard for a moment. "Well... I'm... not sure how, but... I think he might be hiding something."

Bubbles stared back at her in disbelief. She couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice. "But... I can read minds. How could he be hiding anything?"

Blossom frowned. "I... I'm not sure, but, well... You avoided me just now, right? You went to a dog's brain instead of mine."

"Yeah, but that's because you're fast! You're still a superhero," and she felt a swell of affection, appreciation, and pride from Blossom as Bubbles reminded her of her sworn duty despite her current problems.

"That's true, I suppose," Blossom said, unable to resist rubbing her head in an attempt to restrain her swell of self-worth.

Bubbles rolled her eyes, "You're super great, Blossom."

Blossom blinked, and gave a small chuckle. "Right, right. I'm just glad someone still thinks of me that way," and at Bubbles' raised eyebrow, she coughed, "But to the point: I'm fast, right?"

Bubbles' answer was instant. "Yes."

Blossom gave her a wry look. "Okay, well, the Professor might not be as fast as I am, but he might know tricks to help him be faster, or... stronger than a normal person. He might even be able to make you avoid him, just like me."

"H...how would he do that?"

Blossom finally shook her head. "That, I just don't know. I can guess, but it'd be... really specific, and while we have at least some kind of evidence that he knows some kind of trick, how he does it would be pure speculation." She pursed her lips and Bubbles felt her think briefly about their course of action. "Let's ask him about it later," she finally decided. "Tonight we should focus on enjoying dinner with friends and family. We can investigate it tomorrow."

Bubbles felt her curiosity welling up, but then she heard a thought Blossom intended for herself: We shouldn't push the issue and ruin the evening. Blossom blinked as Bubbles nodded at her, and then smiled. "Yeah, I suppose you should know that too."

But Bubbles' mind was still racing; Blossom rubbed her shoulder again. "You're still interested, though," she laughed at Bubbles' bewildered look again, "Look, you keep looking back and forth everywhere, and you keep shaking your head. You keep doing that, everyone will wonder what's got you so upset. I think you should take a rest here for a while. I'll tell the others you're doing okay and we'll call you when the food's ready."

Bubbles could only nod. "Thank you... again."

"You're welcome, again!" Blossom smiled and made her way back to the kitchen, leaving Bubbles there, to relax.

But Blossom had been right. She was just left with more questions, and doubts. Was it really possible? How do you stop someone from reading your mind? Blossom wasn't able to stop her, not really; she could just think really fast and Bubbles' head would spin trying to keep up, so she... avoided it. She could... probably keep up, if she tried.. And Bubbles knew that she could read the Professor's mind. She'd done it entirely passively when their father hadn't even made it to the doorway. At that time, all the thoughts and emotions had been real. Wasn't that proof that he couldn't hide anything from her? It was hard to say that it made any sense, but then... there was a ring of truth to Blossom's theory.

She continued to sit in silence, and as thoughts circled around in her head, this time, it was much lighter. Because the thoughts spun were her own.

Later, as they all sat at the dinner table, Blossom smiled to see that Bubbles had come back with a subtle stoicism; she had barely managed to calm her desperately curious mind. The Professor's temperament, it seemed, must have stopped waving back and forth, and a relative calm around her psychic sister had returned. The Utonium family and guests ate, Mitch and Robin spoke about the going-ons at the school before summer break, Buttercup asked about classmates she hadn't seen in a long time, and Blossom simply sat and listened, intent on getting a picture of how things had turned out since Mojo had faked her death.

"Mary moved away from Townsville a few years ago," Robin recalled. "I think her parents were worried about the monsters... crime..."

"There was also a little bullying," Mitch mentioned, though how much of it was his own he probably didn't want to admit. "After I'd stopped being such a jerk, I would have probably tried to protect her some, but by that time, she'd been gone for over a year."

"That's a shame," Blossom replied. "I would have liked to see her again."

"Yeah," Bubbles's quiet voice assented with a nod, "me too."

"To be frank, I'd like to see all of my old friends again, if I could," Blossom continued. "To let them know that I'm back, and that I'm okay. Well, more or less," she added wryly, rubbing the corner of her robotic eye over the lens.

Robin sighed. "Yeah... well, about half our friends by now have just... moved away. It's something that just happens, I guess."

Blossom masked her unhappiness, and focused on the positive; she smiled. "Well! I am glad you two stayed."

"And Mike," Bubbles reminded her, a tiny twist of sadness in her voice.

Blossom's mind churned for just half an instant of an instant, earning a widened set of eyes from Bubbles, but spoke casually, "Oh, that's right! Speaking of Mike, where is he? We've been talking about him a lot. If Bubbles says he hasn't moved, what's keeping him? He should be here too, don't you think?"

Robin and Mitch glanced at each other and shared an uncomfortable silence. Bubbles looked away, and Blossom thought she saw a look of shame cross her sister's features. Glancing at Buttercup, it wasn't hard to deduce that she hadn't heard what happened to him either.

Blossom frowned and hesitated. "Is he okay?"

Robin remained pensive. "Well... he's still alive... but..." She seemed reluctant to elaborate.

Buttercup craned her head. "Uh... Is he sick?"

Mitch sighed painfully. "He's in a coma."

"He's in a coma?" Blossom repeated, surprised and curious. "Was it a disease, something physical, or what?"

"He got hurt during an attack in the park. That... Tektite thing."

"'Tektite?'" Blossom was familiar with the term, but probably not in the way that they meant. "Tektite" was the term for glassy, molten rock formations, usually occurring due to the impact of meteorites in magma; it seemed unlikely that he was talking about that. One other use of that word she knew referred to a video game monster with four legs and one eye—Oh!

"You mean the Khagan. Mojo always called it Project Khagan. He loved fancy titles, and the etymology was appropriate, up until it was, uh..." Blossom paused very briefly; she'd been about to say something else, but now was not the time, "...it was destroyed by Buttercup in the derelict districts of Townsville several weeks ago," she finished, earning looks of confusion around the table: Blossom had just stated the extremely obvious, with nothing qualifying why.

Blossom gave a tiny rictus grin. "Ahaha, it's just... remembering it is bad for me." Bubbles raised an eyebrow at her, and Blossom began thinking about a strand of irrational numbers and how it was impossible for them to fit into aleph-null for a moment until Bubbles shook her head. She wouldn't look inside right now.

Mitch scratched his face with a finger. "Yeah... that thing. It was after Bubbles, and he tried to fight it, but it knocked him out."

"Wait," Buttercup interjected. "Mike tried to fight it?"

Robin nodded. "Yeah, he did. He's had some sort of psychic abilities for a while now."

"But he... and I... we weren't strong enough," Bubbles muttered sadly, casting her eyes downward to her half-eaten plate of food.

"Ugh... If I'd been there..." Buttercup remarked, clenching her fists in anger.

Blossom's mind burned again, and she jumped in at that moment. "Wait. What do you mean 'if' you'd been there? Where were you?"

"Oh, right," Buttercup half-groaned. "We hadn't got to talking about that yet."

"Talking about what?"

"Buttercup was in a coma at that time too," Bubbles told her.

"What?!"

Two comas!? The same time?! Bubbles merely shrugged at her thoughts.

"Yeah," Buttercup groaned in resignation. "I barely managed to beat Mister Mime but he had new powers that—"

"Whoa, whoa! What? Mister Mime? New powers? I thought he turned back to normal years ago!"

Buttercup winced. "It's... way more complicated than I'd like to get into right now. I'll tell you about it later, okay?"

"Oh, come on, Buttercup! You can't just drop all of that on me and expect me not to ask for details!"

"I know, I know, just..." She seemed truly pained. Blossom's eyes darted to Bubbles, and her head shook minutely. Now wasn't the time to press it.

Buttercup grit her teeth. "I haven't really gotten over it, okay? It was a huge defeat."

"But you won," Bubbles reminded her.

"I won, but it was a loss," she shot back, a mix of pain and anger in her eyes.

Blossom hesitated, then took a breath and restrained her wild curiosity. "All right, all right. We'll broach this later. Let's get back to this thing with the Khagan," She cleared her throat, "Or, uh, the... Tektite. How did it happen?"

"It was... an ambush," Bubbles said, her head drooping and her eyes casting downward yet again.

Everyone else exchanged glances but waited patently for Bubbles to tell her side of the story.

We were in the park—that is, me, Robin, Mitch and Mike. We were playing catch... although, I wasn't really in the mood, so I ended up sitting off to the side, watching. I wanted to have fun, I really did... but I just couldn't find any motivation. I felt so bad when the three of them looked back at me, wanting me to get up and join them.

I was alone back then. With Buttercup in her coma, and Blossom gone, the house was finally empty. The Professor was still at work the next state over, and although he'd requested an immediate leave of absence in the face of monitoring his comatose daughter, it hadn't yet been approved.

"This bureaucracy moves slowly," he'd told me, but he assured me that he'd be home as soon as he could. Which meant at least a few more days. A few more days that I'd be alone... if not for my friends.

There were only specific times I could even be with any of my friends. During school. After... and Robin, Mike, and Mitch did spend most of their time with me. But they still had their own families. Their own houses. Their own beds. They had to sleep sometime. And then finally, after they all went home for the day... I was truly alone. Alone in a way that tore at me. There was no one around. Just the furniture, with scuffs and marks from days gone past. Holes and marks of plaster to fix some of them in the walls. From both mistakes and rage.

I remember walking into the house once and just falling over. The emptiness literally pulled me down. I think I just laid there for... I'm not sure. Could have been a few minutes, a few hours, maybe just a few seconds. I couldn't tell. But then the doorbell rang, and Robin saved me. Then Mike showed up, and Mitch too. All three of them saved me from myself. I wasn't... I wasn't suicidal. I wasn't. I really wasn't. I knew it would hurt everyone else so much. I couldn't bear that. But the silence. The clock chiming into nothing. Afternoon turning to evening and shadows tracing on the walls as it became night. Without my friends, I just... I had to force myself to eat.

"Nothing... nothing tasted good. It had taste, but... I just... if there was no one there, what was the point?"

Bubbles stared into the distance. The Professor's face was obscured by a hand covering it. He sat, hunched over the table. Robin and Mitch had their eyes closed just as tightly as they held one another's hands. Blossom narrowed her eyes, absorbing it all, carefully. Buttercup frowned at everyone's faces, and thumped an elbow down onto the table, startling everyone out of the dark memory of loneliness. Even Buttercup herself had to hold down her grief, and her guilt, but she pushed ahead, because it was the right thing to do.

With everyone blinking at her elbow thunking the table, she leaned her face onto the arm propped up by the offending joint. Buttercup cleared her throat, loudly. "Sorry, Bubbles, but... about Mike...?"

Buttercup saw how as Bubbles blinked, so did everyone in the room, like they were being shaken from a dream. Was it that horrible, or was she horrible for wanting to know what had happened to a good friend so badly that she'd interrupted her "little" sister's... confession of despair? She also noticed that Blossom was not blinking, her somber expression almost unchanged even as she turned her gaze onto Buttercup with the mildest reproach.

"What?" Buttercup gave a sincere wince, "I'm sorry, I really am, but... I want to know. Don't you?"

Blossom sighed loudly, but nodded her head, and looked back to Bubbles, and gave her a small, encouraging smile.

Bubbles's eyes grew watery for a moment, and Buttercup thought she might cry again, but was impressed when she instead took a long drink from her cup, and then cleared her throat.

Sorry about that. I just... It was a blur of days and nights that ended horribly. I won't... I won't keep on about it, but... without you, Buttercup, or my friends, or the Professor, it felt... dangerously lonely. The entire family was falling apart, had fallen apart... and I was powerless to do a single thing about it.

So... so when Buttercup was in her coma, it took a few days of... nothing, but my friends took me to the park. The volcano observatory's staff would be putting on a light show that night. I made sure they knew I wouldn't get upset seeing Mojo's lair repurposed: I thought it was good that the city had actually reclaimed something; and anyway, I passed it a lot when Buttercup and I had to fight crime. So we decided we'd all go.

In the park, though, I had a terrible feeling despite trying to push it back. I saw the observatory and remembered how Blossom was gone, and wondered if Buttercup would be gone too. Mike picked up on my distress, with what must have been his power. Next thing I knew, he was at my side, his hand gentle on my shoulder, comforting me.

It's so strange... I remember every word we said before... before it happened. Every way our tones of voice worked. And Mike's voice... was just like him. Kind... Sweet.

"It's okay, Bubbles," he told me. "Buttercup is the toughest person I know. Nothing can stop her. She'll come out of her coma like," and he struck a pose, waving his hand dismissively. "What coma? That was the best sleep I've ever had!" He was doing a near spot-on impression of Buttercup, and I couldn't help but smile. "Me, in a coma? Pfft! Yeah, right! Watch me lift this Mount Everest!" He squatted and lifted his football into the air and over his head, letting out a roar of victory.

Finally, I laughed a little.

Soft and gentle, he smiled back, "You'll see. Things will get better."

I really wish I could have shared his optimism, but at least I smiled back, and nodded.

"Guys," Mitch called out and I turned in his direction. "Let's all go to the arcade until like... seven, maybe eight? You know, before the show starts. I don't feel like tossing a football around all day, I wanna play Down With The Dead and kill some zombies! I almost beat the high score last week."

"Nice," Mike remarked, simply, aping Mitch's attempts to be manly, making me smile more.

But I admit, I was pretty impressed too. That game was hard.

"They have some games that Bubbles and I like to play together too," Robin added. "Yeah, let's go."

Mike turned back to Bubbles. "What do you think, Bubbles?" he whispered. "It's up to you. If you don't wanna go, we can do something else. Mitch and Robin won't mind spending some time by themselves."

"No, it's..." I took a deep breath. "...it's okay, I'll go. I don't like being sad all the time... and I appreciate all you guys do for me. I think I should be trying to cheer up. And I think you're right. Buttercup will come out of her coma soon."

Mitch had gotten close enough to hear what she was saying. "Yeah, you gotta have faith, right?"

I nodded, weakly, trying to hang on to the always vague concept of faith that was always swallowed up by the echo of my footsteps in my dead home. Yet... it always began to feel possible when I was with my friends. I felt it rising in me in that moment, as Robin stepped up to rub my shoulder. I looked up at my friends' faces.

"Yeah... yeah." I stood up. "Okay, let's go."

And then...

"The robot... the 'Khagan'... the Tektite... it was there." Bubbles wrapped her arms around herself, and looked away, unable to continue. She clenched her eyes shut, very clearly trying hard to suppress the rest of the memory.

"We can stop there is you want, Bubbles."

"No... I..." She took a deep breath. "I need to stop being afraid of it. Just... give... just give me a minute." But her voice was wobbling; her eyes were growing round and glassy with the reflection of eyes full of tears.

"Bubbles," Mitch suddenly started, seeing her face, "If you want, I can pick up where you left off. It'll probably be, uh, easier for me? I think. Er, wait, I mean, less... less painful," he stammered quickly as Robin glared at him for a moment; her eyes softened, then, and she nodded.

An instant after Robin, Bubbles also nodded, pursing her lips. "Okay."

So we were getting ready to go to the arcade, and we had only taken a few steps in that direction when that four-legged robot, the... what, the "Khagan", Blossom? The... the freaking Dragoon... the Tektite, landed on the ground nearby; the crash knocking us all off of our feet, sending us sprawling to the ground. When I looked up, it was towering over Bubbles, and it raised its two front legs to smash her.

But, just like that, Mike had thrown himself between the Tektite and Bubbles, and raised his arms up as if to block it. I yelled at him, but he ignored me. As the arms came down, I was sure that he was a goner, but the robot's arms bounced back as if hitting a wall. An invisible wall! Or... mostly invisible... I think I saw it for a second—some kind of purplish shockwave rippled outward from where the Tektite's arms hit... whatever was there. Mike's power, I guess.

Anyway, it stumbled, but planted its feet and charged again without missing a beat, this time swinging its front arms down against the invisible wall as if playing a giant set of drums. As it beat against Mike's... barrier, nonstop, I could see Mike start to shake and strain from the effort of keeping up his defenses. Apparently, it also noticed Mike weakening. It rose up on its hind legs and swung hard. But at the last second, Bubbles grabbed Mike from behind and threw him to safety. The robot's blow came down on her instead.

The Tektite rose back up on all fours and... that red eye stared... just stared, like it was inspecting the small crater it had made. It used one of its legs to shift the dirt and... rubble and crud aside, and then pulled Bubbles out of it. I could see it: she was groggy and barely conscious, hanging from an opened panel that had clamped onto her leg. The robot looked like it was about to leave, but a blast of...energy that must have been from Mike again... it hit the robot's leg, and it dropped Bubbles. I looked and saw Mike, his body radiating some kind of energy I'd never seen before. It was kind of like a bright, neon-purple aura, some kind of psychic energy. His eyes were full of rage and determination, and he screamed at the top of his lungs something like, "Stay away from her!" I don't remember if that's what he said exactly...

But I'd never seen Mike so angry in my life.

He was putting everything he had into taking on the Tektite. He pooled the energy from his aura into his hands, and started hurling it at the Tektite, trying to drive it back. The robot was actually backing up, reeling from the force of the blasts, but then there was a moment when it started ducking and dodging, and it got closer and closer to Mike.

As it did, Mike shifted to a defensive posture, and the robot started swinging at him, hard. Mike threw out purple blasts to keep from getting hit, each time knocking the robot's arms away. But then it feinted and Mike took the bait, which gave it enough time to change its swing, and Mike took a direct hit, sending him sprawled through the air, before landing face-up in the sand pit.

The whole time, Robin and I had dove under a picnic table. I was stunned. At the robot's ambush, at Mike's surge of power and just... fury... I couldn't move, even to go see if Mike was okay.

I heard Bubbles groan, and turned in time to see her get up. But she didn't have any time to react before the Tektite leapt back to her, and slammed one of its arms on top of her one last time. It picked her up the same way, and I could see that she was out cold. Before we knew what was happening, the Tektite had leapt away, and disappeared into the city.

When we finally got up and checked on Mike, he was barely conscious... he was... he was bleeding from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, but... he was alive. Robin called for an ambulance on her cell and I tried to keep Mike conscious as long as I could. He kept saying that it was his fault that Bubbles got taken and how he wasn't strong enough. I told him that he was plenty strong, and he'd done things I'd never seen anyone other than the girls do before. He had almost saved Bubbles, I told him, and if he survived, he would have all the time in the world to get stronger, and we could find Bubbles together and get her back. I even told him that I thought he could be a superhero if he wanted to... but I don't think he really heard me. He passed out. I tried to get him back, but he wouldn't come to.

Those minutes that started with me shaking him, only to be shoved off by Robin as she tried to perform CPR, desperately pumping her hands into his chest... That was bad. That was... the worst I think I've ever felt. Two friends were about to just be gone. Just like that. We knew loss. We knew it from you, Blossom. But this was something else. Like electricity to stop your heart cold.

But of course then, the paramedics arrived shortly after that and took him away in an ambulance. Although, we didn't really let them leave until they assured us he was stable.

Later on that day, we visited him at the hospital. They said he was in critical condition, and the attack had put him in a coma. They wouldn't know the full extent of the damage until they'd done a CAT scan, but they knew there was some kind of internal bleeding and they didn't know how long they'd be able to keep him alive. I cried. Robin cried. The city cried, because for all they knew, Bubbles had just died too, and with her gone, there just were no Powerpuff Girls left.

So we didn't feel great when we visited the next day. However, the doctors that were looking over him said that the CAT scan actually showed no damage at all. As if the signs of trauma they'd seen had all been healed somehow. But, for some reason, he was still comatose...

"...and they haven't been able to tell us why."

"Uh... whoa," Buttercup boggled. The quiet kid Mike... had superpowers just like they did?

"Yeah," Mitch agreed. "It's crazy. I mean, not just the fight, but the fact that he's physically okay after that. I saw him bleeding from every hole in his face, and the doctors said even that had healed up."

"That... doesn't seem possible," Blossom said, also coming to grips with all this new information.

"I know, no one really has an answer right now. I wish I knew what was going on."

There was a deafening silence. Mitch and Robin poked at their food, Bubbles was breathing heavily, her eyes fully welled up with tears, trying her best not to let them loose. Buttercup kept opening her mouth, and puffs of air kept vocalizing in her mouth as she tried to think up something to say. The Professor and Blossom both tapped at their chins, thinking.

Finally the Professor broke the silence. "There are some things medical science just can't explain yet. I think the girls are living proof of that. Mike's certainly not your average teenager. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Maybe we should visit him at the hospital," Blossom suggested.

Buttercup craned her head. "What for," she blurted. "I mean yeah, it'd be a good gesture, and I'm certainly not against it," she added quickly, realizing what an insensitive thing it might have sounded like at first, "but it's not like he'd know we were there, right?"

"Well... not necessarily," Robin replied.

"Huh? What are you talking about? He's... he's unconscious. Right?"

"Umm..." She rubbed her cheek, eyes thoughtfully askance. "I've read that studies have shown that a part of your brain can still be active when you're in a coma. It varies from one situation to another, but some people in comas or vegetative states have been known to recall memories of visiting family members saying or doing things after coming out of their comas."

Buttercup turned to Blossom. "Is that true?"

"There are several well-documented cases, yes."

Buttercup processed this. Blossom probably had read about that stuff back in kindergarten, so it was easy to believe that she believed... "So what you're saying is: Mike might still be able to... sorta think and feel, even in a coma?"

Robin nodded. "I don't know for sure... but it is possible."

"Wow. I mean, yeah, that's pretty cool," Buttercup sniffed, impressed.

"Any hope is better than none, right?" Blossom shrugged.

Bubbles sniffled so loudly that everyone started mildly, but she forced a smile. "Yeah. Let's go see him."

"I'm down." Buttercup nodded quickly. She was starting to feel bad seeing Bubbles crying so much. Again.

Robin smiled as well. "I'd like to see him again too."

Mitch checked the clock. "It's just before six, and visiting hours are over at seven. We'll need to hurry."

"We got time, me and Bubbles can fly all of us over there in minutes," Buttercup shrugged. She wanted to make sure everyone could see she supported the decision; she wasn't a complete jerkass. She cared about her friends, too, even if no one believed her anymore.

He blinked in surprise. "Huh, I didn't think of that. Well, yeah, let's do that then."

"We still have to finish our meal, though," Robin reminded them.

After clearing their plates and helping Professor clear the table, the five of them left and Buttercup and Bubbles carried them all into Townsville and over to the hospital where Mike was staying. Blossom smiled at Mitch and Robin's whoops as they soared into the sky. She tried very hard not to let her melancholy, at being unable to fly on her own, contaminate Bubbles: it was going to be hard enough for her blue-eyed sister; but Bubbles just smiled at her, surprising her.

"I'm... uh, it's a lot harder to fly right now. Feel all you want," Bubbles said, her eyes betraying a twinkle of amusement despite the sadness she must have been feeling, "Really, Blossom. It's not that bad."

Blossom took her at her word; they got to Townsville General shortly after six-thirty. The front office staff reminded them of the visiting hours and then directed them to Mike's room. Bubbles' metal arms bumped against the walls a few times as they got inside, getting looks of incredulity from nurses and doctors carefully passing them in the hall, but she made sure to angle them away from anything remotely breakable.

Inside, the beeping of the cardiogram set a steady rhythm through the air for them to follow. They filed in and surrounded their friend, and then looked around at each other. Instinctively, Bubbles and Buttercup turned simultaneously to Blossom, who held up her hands immediately and waggled them about. She was not going to take point here. Robin rolled her eyes and made shooing motions at Blossom; she nodded with deep gratitude at Robin as the other girl cleared her throat.

"Hey Mike," Robin said, a little too loudly. "It's us; Robin, Mitch, Bubbles, and Buttercup—she's out of her coma."

"Hey Mike," Buttercup said, speaking about as loudly as Robin had. "I heard you gave the Tektite... you know, the robot? You gave that thing a run for its money. I gotta give you props, dude, that took some serious guts."

Robin nodded and then turned back to Mike. "...And we've brought someone you probably didn't think you've ever see again!" She smiled at Blossom.

Blossom hesitated. This was more awkward than she had anticipated. "H-hey Mike." She was speaking so quietly, even Bubbles looked at her in confusion. She cleared her throat and spoke up. "It's... it's uh, me... Blossom. I know you probably... I mean, you must have definitely thought I was dead, but I'm not! I never... uh, I mean, I never was, obviously, if I'm talking to you now. And well, I wanted to say, er... Sorry about... all this. I was..." She stopped. It was too much to get into right now. "I mean...it was a... it is a really long story. I can tell you everything. But... later," she finished. "But I'm alive. This is me talking... Aha... It really is me, and, well... uh... I'm looking forward to talking to you... again. When you recover. Of course." She cleared her throat and felt her face flush. The others were staring at her.

She shrugged wildly "I mean, really, guys, what am I supposed to say," she muttered under her breath rhetorically, pulling the contact lens from her eye and purposely letting the red pupil dilate, the mechanical aperture of her iris hopefully conveying the fact that it was her inside the robot, the guilt had landed on her suddenly, and she didn't know how to fix that. She replaced the lens with a heavy look at the rest of them, met with various degrees of sympathy and comprehension. For Robin and Mitch, it took a moment for them to recognize the mechanical whirs and red eye symbolizing the Khagan. Buttercup, to her credit, shrugged right back at her with sincere sympathy almost instantly.

Blossom felt a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm back," Bubbles smiled at Blossom as she talked to the boy who looked so peacefully asleep. She leaned down, her own Powerpuff hand gently clutching at his limp, fragile human hand. "I hope you can hear us... I really wanted you to know that I'm okay. I really do miss you, Mike." She began to lean in further, her face drawing towards Mike's, and paused for a moment. Blossom could swear she looked confused for all of an instant. But then Bubbles stepped back and looked away. Blossom dutifully brought her into a hug, and just one large tear fell from Bubbles onto her sister's shoulder.

Mitch said, less loudly than the girls, "I still think you should be a superhero. That is a real possibility with your power. If you don't want to, that's fine, but I think you would be amazing."

"Me, too," Buttercup added. "Anyone who did what you did has got some major potential."

"He's got time to make that decision," Blossom told them. "But first he needs to get better. Until then... the only thing we can do is wait."

Buttercup nodded quickly. "Right. I know that better than anyone." She paused, then squared her shoulders. "Get better, Mike. I wanna see what you're capable of."

The five of them spent a little bit of time in silence. Bubbles let go of Blossom, and blinked. She turned silently to the bed, leaning back over it, her face clearly pained. The others exchanged glances, but no one was really sure what else to say. But then Blossom saw the pain dull, and despite herself, she felt curiosity. Everything else was the picture of a comatose patient visit. The cardiogram beeped steadily, the tempo unchanged from when they set foot in the door.

"Well, Mike," Mitch finally said, looking up at the clock, "I think we should get going. I know it was a short visit, but hopefully you heard us, and know that things are getting better. Get well soon, buddy." He turned to leave, and Robin followed.

"Bye, Mike. We'll be back a lot more from now on, I promise," Robin said, waving as she left the room.

"See ya, Mike," Buttercup said, and followed the others.

"Talk to you soon, Mike," Blossom said, but she didn't begin to leave.

Bubbles was staring at Mike with an utterly blank expression now, and hadn't moved for several seconds.

Blossom turned to her, intoning quietly, "...Bubbles?"

The black around her was stifling. There was no light; no movement; no signs of anyone or anything. If this was what they'd just been talking to, they'd been wasting their time. But Bubbles knew she'd had to at least try; she had projected herself into Mike's mind to search for him, and she'd come up empty. She didn't want to believe that her friend was just an empty husk... but looking at this dark void, she couldn't help but feel that he was gone forever.

And then...

"Over here," came a voice behind her. A familiar voice.

She blinked in surprise and turned sharply. There he was, waving gently, dressed in his hospital garb, which hung loosely against his frame. "Mike!" She ran over to him and threw her arms around him. She didn't have to worry about her metal arms here; they simply didn't exist in this reality.

"Hey, Bubbles. I missed you."

"I missed you too."

She hugged him tightly for several more seconds, and if she could shed tears here, she would have. Instead, it was the same emotion, just without the tears. When they parted, she finally got a good look at him. He smiled weakly back at her; a fake smile to hide how he really felt.

Here, in his mind, it was strange. She couldn't sense his emotions directly, not while she was busy... building her sights and sounds, but she could clearly see that he was depressed. He looked pretty bad; his... she supposed it was his self-image, it was fractured. When she just glanced at him, it was Mike. Standing there in his hospital gown, his cheeks bright as it looked like she was appraising him. But then she felt deeper, and saw more: there were cracks, literally cracks running through the shape of his body, from head to toe. Beneath the cracked skin, his body, when she really looked, was barely more than flesh and bone; his eyes were sunken and hollow.

She looked, felt harder, and then saw shapes around him. He was surrounded by several things.

Imaginary friends? As the question formed, she realized it was true. The more she looked, the more there were of them, mostly small animals more akin to pets than anything with which he could have a meaningful conversation. And all throughout, the "friends", unlike how feeling for Mike's emotions was difficult, they each and every one of them seemed to pulse with emotion she could read. Overwhelmingly, it was sadness, and it felt sad to look at for her.

"Mike... what happened to you?"

He looked down and ran his fingertips along the back of something that looked like a black cat but had multiple eyes like a spider. It seemed affectionate, though, and pressed itself back against his fingers as it walked by his feet. "I... lost," he said after a lengthy pause.

"Well, so did I," she admitted. "But it didn't end there. I'm back."

He shook his head. "No... I mean that when I lost you... it finally happened: I lost the will to live, even though I was too scared to die." An owl with large, feathery eyebrows appeared and flapped its wings to land next to him, and then stepped into Mike's lap and pressed itself against his chest. He scratched it under its beak and it lifted its head to give him better access. As all this happened, he continued, "I was trying to keep you from getting hurt. More hurt. As... as you got worse, I felt something in you. You were like me. I started to really feel it only a few weeks before the—Blossom calls it the Khagan, right?" He paused, and seemed to listen for something. "Yes, she does call it that: the Khagan. Closest thing to its real name, I guess. Though if everyone in Townsville called it the Dragoon or the Tektite, who am I to say they're wrong?"

Bubbles stared wildly at Mike, feeling the ripple of power that lashed out from him when he'd paused to think about what Blossom called the robot. He looked at her, and smiled for a moment. "You think I'm strong for that, Bubbles. Thanks. It's not true, though," his mouth dropping into a heavy frown.

She winced at his self-depreciation, but he didn't seem to notice, and kept on. "Just because you don't know how strong you are, Bubbles... just because you don't know how to see like I see it yet..."

Many of the animals bristled and retreated from Mike as his expression grew dark. "It shouldn't have been able to take you. I knew my powers had been getting stronger, so I thought... I thought for just one dumb moment, that because it was you..." and then it was Mike who cried without tears, but only for a moment before he looked at her again, circles under his eyes growing, "...I thought could fight it." The owl faded away very suddenly and he sunk his arms back into his lap. "But of course, I failed."

Bubbles shook her head. "Maybe that one time. But it's okay. I've never been successful at everything either, right?"

He looked the other way, at nothing. "And because of me, some evil bastard, someone Blossom thinks is Mojo and... something else she's not sure of?" His eyes narrowed in confusion, and then turned back down. "...It doesn't matter. Someone went and... experimented on you. Those legs... arms... limbs... I could see them, you know. I could see them before you even touched down. Before you walked into the hospital's front doors. They're... they're beacons, Bubbles... bright lights. And they're doing even more for you than you want to know." He clenched his eyes shut, as if wanting to clear away that thought and pretend it was a horrible dream. "That's unfair. I shouldn't have said that, Bubbles. I'm sorry."

That is not the only thing he's apologizing for, she realized. "Mike, the arms... the attack... none of this is your fault!"

He hung his head, staring at the literally empty space beneath his feet. "I wanted to believe I was strong. But I can't even protect a single person. One of the only ones I... think I can even begin to care about. More than anything else, Bubbles. I'm still a failure. So I'm not waking up yet. Those arms seal the deal."

Bubbles didn't understand, but was taken aback. He wasn't a failure. "The arms?" How could he really have expected to beat it? Just fighting that thing took a ton of courage. He had done his best. Why couldn't he see that?

"It's like... I can see a little bit better than you, but your eyes are so much bigger. Does that make sense? You see... quantity. I see quality. I... I hate myself for seeing it now. Because now I'm doubting."

"Doubting what? You did nothing wrong!"

"No... But you might have."

Bubbles felt a sting of shock. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be taken, either!"

"Wait, sorry, that's not it. That's wrong too. Not something you did intentionally. Just another problem I can't help but... see." He shook his head. "I... I think I might... that... you know how you just feel... so... much? I wonder if all that... that 'muchness' just... leaked out of you. I wonder if that makes how I feel about you, about Mitch and Robin..."

He finally turned away, and the animals crowded around him, drowning his form in shadows for a long moment that made Bubbles feel like she couldn't breathe. Then he turned around, his features fuzzier, more indistinct. The cracks were barely visible. He was hiding from her, even as he smiled. She felt the hollowness in his eyes.

"I appreciate you guys visiting me. I really do. But you guys shouldn't waste your time on me. I can't help you, and I'm not a hero. Not yet, or not ever. Whichever happens first," and he sniffed derisively, "and honestly? It would probably be better if my body just withered to dust and I just died in this shell."

Then she snapped, "Mike, no! None of that is true! But you are, and were true; you were so brave! When you tried to save me? That thing was designed to fight full-fledged superheroes like me and Buttercup. You... couldn't have beaten it at that level."

Mike's eyes came into focus, and they were angry. "You don't know that."

She tried not to recoil much, but he saw and his eyes grew sharper while the rest of him grew fuzzier, like he was wilting. But she pressed on. "Who do you think I am? I'm a Powerpuff Girl. I've seen it! Experienced it! I know that if you'd had time to develop your powers—even just a little bit more—you might have beaten it easily!" She paused, and lowered her voice a little. "You didn't have that time. But you will. You're stronger than you know, Mike. And all of us really want you to get better and talk with you again. All of us. Buttercup, Blossom... Blossom, Mike! And of course, Robin, Mitch, and me."

Mike sat there and listened, his shape coming into focus in bursts as word after word hit home. The cracks became more visible, but they also began to seal, and for a moment, Bubbles thought she could wake him up, right then.

But he stared back at her with his eyes, still so outlined by dark circles. "See, the thing is, is you might be right, Bubbles, but for all the wrong reasons. I might have been strong enough. I might have been. But when it came down to the moment? I lost."

She couldn't help herself. It flowed out of her "voice" all at once, desperate to convince him. "Strength isn't about how much power you have. It's how much you're willing to push yourself for others. It's how much you push yourself for your dreams and aspirations in spite of your failure. That's something my very much alive sister talks—well, thinks about a lot, when she's not... fast. Strength is more than just having extra abilities. It's willpower. It's focus. It's taking your experiences and using it in different ways. And sometimes you aren't strong enough, and that's okay. You don't give up on everything because of one bad mission," she continued. "Think about all the times me and my sisters fought monsters in Townsville. We didn't always win, but we always tried. And sometimes we failed. Then we learned from it. And the next time we were better. We won. We were stronger because of our failures."

He nodded slowly, piecing together her logic as pieces of him filled in cracks. But his eyes were still dark.

"When you get better, you can try again. And we'll all wait for you to do it."

Even more of the cracks seemed to knit together as she spoke. His form grew more distinct. He was still broken, but she had gotten through to him, and he was a little bit better for it. For the first time, his smile was warm and familiar. She didn't so much "hear" the words "thank you", but she felt them all the same. She beamed at him, and nodded a silent "you're welcome." But she couldn't shake the dark circles. They had grown up under his eyes as he had dipped down into the nadir of his despair, and while his body, his features, his face became more distinct, and less cracked, his eyes were still dark.

Bubbles frowned, and he frowned back at her, like he knew what was coming. "Mike, there's nothing physically wrong with your body. You healed yourself through your powers, right?"

He blinked. "I did, didn't I?"

She blinked. "Er... Did you not?"

As he paused to think, the animals all but vanished, an eerie dark outline of faint movement far away from his body in the darkness. As he thought, his form vibrated, becoming fuzzy and distinct in intervals for an instant, like he was a ripple on a pond. "I guess at the time, while I was unconscious, I found myself thinking really hard that I wanted to find you, and rescue you from that thing. For a little while I wanted so badly to just survive the attack. I kept thinking about it and how I wished my wounds would just close up and I could get better so I could go and find you. I wasn't exactly trying to heal myself. Maybe I did it without knowing I could, or something like that? Or maybe just thinking that I wanted to be better triggered some kind of supernatural healing effect?" When he was done speaking, he looked back at her and his form came back into clarity.

"Maybe." She didn't know precisely how her own healing factor really worked, but that seemed... plausible. "So then, you can come out of your coma any time you want to!"

He craned his head back and forth briefly, a few cracks shifting into existence, some disappearing. "I... I don't think I could have back then. I must have tried at the time. Something else was stopping me, and I thought it was just more failure on my part. But now..." He looked away, and then clenched his eyes shut, the corners of his dark eyes forming even more cracks than the rest of his skin. When he opened them, he was still looking away. "But right now, I don't think it's a good idea."

She was taken aback. "But... why?"

"I don't think... knowing what I... think I know now, seeing you, seeing those... beacon limbs of yours... feeling your sister's mind beginning to speed up... Not yet. Let's say you're right, and it wasn't really my fault. The fact remains that I tried to save you and failed."

"But—"

"It's okay, Bubbles. I won't die. I'm not going anywhere. If you want to visit me again, I'll be here. I'll probably come out of this coma some day. Soon, I think. But not right now. I don't have the strength I need—no, that's not right. I have the strength, I know that." He sighed. "I just don't have the strength I want," and he chuckled sadly, "Part of it is courage, of course."

She was so thrown, she fixated on it. "The courage? But, we... You heard me, you have to embrace that failure with the people you care about!"

His dark eyes almost twinkled, and for a moment, she saw the circles recede. But then a whirring sound filled her mind.

"It's been months since I went into this, well, state, and it won't be easy, you—" He stopped and looked out at nothing, listening. "Wow, she is fast, isn't she? It's only been a few moments, and she's speeding up. She's going to outpace us. You were right to jump to the dog."

The spiral sound grew more frenetic, and Mike's form grew... hazy, not fuzzy. She was losing him!

"Mike, hold on! What's happening?"

"I'm okay. Don't worry about me," he said, almost outright laughing, "We can... er... talk more about it later, another time. Tell Blossom this if you can remember it: I was really surprised and am so glad she's back, and I definitely don't blame her. Even if she was there, she was silent. She's right, you know. She wasn't anything but a battery when it happened," and as the noise got even louder, his grin widened. "Right, right, another time. Try to remember anyway. Listen, Bubbles: you mentioned people to care about. Well, in case you're not paying attention to how faint we're getting," and it was true, he was fading, and his voice was growing quiet, "and how, uh, loud this is, well, there's someone you care about calling out to you, right now."

She'd heard him but didn't understand. "What?"

He shouted now, to speak over the whirlwind of... noise. His eyes were still dark as they faded, but his mouth was smiling. "Right! Now!"

Blossom shook her shoulder, her thoughts accelerating wildly. "Hey!"

Bubbles gasped sharply and turned at Blossom, eyes wide.

Blossom's mind settled back to its regular—thankfully slower—pace as Bubbles finally responded. "What's wrong? You zonked out for a minute there."

"I was..." she looked past Blossom and saw the others staring back at her from the open doorway. They were all just outside the door but leaned back in as Blossom had raised her voice. Bubbles considered, and felt herself drawn back to Mike for a moment. It was difficult to resist the pull back inside, to speak to him again, to try again. But it was too soon. She knew it somehow; Mike was... radiating his patience. She blinked, and looked at the stares, and surprising herself, the words slipped out."I... I was talking with Mike."

Blossom blinked several times, and resisted the impulse to visibly react, but Bubbles heard her clearly: What?! What did he say?

The others looked confused; Robin was sympathetic, her mind—and surprisingly, Mitch's too, both resisting the urge to tear up, but they smiled at her.

Buttercup was simply skeptical, as though this was a given, a strangeness. She gestured to Mike. "Well, I mean, yeah. We were all talking to him, but it's not like he can actually answer back, you know."

"No, I mean, I was actually talking with him. In his head."

Robin's head told Bubbles her heart skipped a beat. Mitch wanted to believe, but something milder, yet similar to Buttercup was building in him. They both said nothing. Blossom's thoughts had begun to whir, but somehow it was beginning to grow quieter, like she was whispering. Blossom was trying hard not to distract her, Bubbles realized.

The pleasant notion was pushed down as Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," she muttered, though in her mind, she was actually sad for her sister. She didn't see how mind-reading could work, after all this time.

Robin's doubts were finally quieted by this seeming callousness, and pushed forward, and stared at her seriously. "Really? You spoke to him?"

Bubbles nodded earnestly.

Mitch craned his head, his curiosity overriding his skepticism. "What did he say?" Blossom held it together, but her mind "braked" to a halt with relief.

Buttercup turned towards him in disbelief, and breathed, "Whaaat."

"He... well, he..." Bubbles said, shaking her head, trying to remember the conversation, which was slowly leaking out of her mind, like a dream. The important ideas were there, and as she felt her friends' pushing her on, statements and images flitted through her head, and she clung to them instead of the minds around her. "I... it is so hard, but... a lot of it was... He didn't feel strong enough. So he feels like a failure. Or, he did? We talked. I think... I think I helped him, but... he doesn't want to come out of his coma," Bubbles shrugged simply, shaking her head slowly, like a metronome.

Robin and Mitch exclaimed it at the same time, their voices in pain. "Why?"

"When he fought the Kha—the Tektite, he said he was trying as hard as he could to save me, and thinks that he wasn't powerful enough, so he failed. So he's... trying to get stronger? I think that was it."

Mitch threw up his hands, and Robin looked at him in brief annoyance as she leaned back to avoid being accidentally swatted as he almost yelled, "Well, maybe so, but he did his best! It was incredible!" Robin gently did swat Mitch on the shoulder, and he slumped down, nodding in apology.

Robin looked at Bubbles. "Can you go back into his head and tell him he's plenty tough and none of us think he's a failure?"

"I did! I promise you, I did. But, it's like... he doesn't—"

"Oh, come on you guys," Buttercup cried incredulously. "People can't read minds! I've seen this stuff on TV before, it's either parlor tricks or mental gymnastics or something."

"Buttercup! She can move things with her mind! Why is it so hard to believe her," Robin demanded, glaring at Buttercup, "when she so obviously can do something with her mind? Maybe she can read minds too. How often have you known Bubbles to lie about stuff like this?" As Robin spoke, as the indignity in her friend for her rose, Bubbles' frustration grew as well, and she looked at Buttercup with plain hurt.

Her sister held up her hands. "Okay maybe she's not lying, maybe she's just... I dunno, maybe she's confused or something. Like memories that got mixed up or something. I dunno!"

In a moment of frustration, Bubbles looked into Buttercup's mind more completely than she had since the computer on her back had driven her deep into her sisters' and her own psyche. Buttercup had, for some time, been ignoring the idea. Why? Why was it so hard to believe?

The answer rose immediately in the opening thought itself: Buttercup remembered the computer. She remembered the power that Bubbles had in warping reality, and thought it had come from the machine. Not her. Bubbles thought back in Buttercup's memories to a few months after their first birthday party, when they'd had a shared dream and beaten the Sandman. The girls hadn't spoken about it when they'd woken up! Or... had they? The memory was fuzzy for Bubbles herself, but Buttercup clearly believed that whatever they'd experienced was a fluke, something conjured from images and possibly shared by proximity, and the potential in the villain's supernatural power itself. But she had grown hard-hearted as the years without Blossom had gone on, and buried the possibility that anyone could see into her heart.

All the while, as Bubbles tried to sort out her sister's mind, Buttercup waved dismissively. "Maybe this is like the time she said her stuffed animals were talking to her? That was something like a month before my coma, too, okay? You, Mitch, and Mike should remember her talking about that kind of thing. Was she serious then?"

Robin was almost shaking with rage, and Bubbles felt the impulse to give into it, when Blossom put a hand on her shoulder. Not yet. Not yet. Hold on. This is not the moment.

Bubbles turned to her, open incredulity in her eyes. Buttercup saw this, and misinterpreted it. She thought Blossom was comforting her because she needed comforting. Not because she was about to burst into Buttercup's head and prove herself. Buttercup threw up her hands defensively. "I'm sorry, okay? But... You need some kind of serious... proof. Bubbles... she wasn't in a good spot."

Her fury deflated as Buttercup's defenses fell, and shame crossed her features.

"I was so awful to her. I was cruel because I was sad and afraid, and Bubbles had to deal with both of our pain because of me. So saying that she could talk to Octi—when it wasn't the devil—and all those other stuffed animals? Maybe... maybe that helped her cope."

Now Bubbles felt bad; Buttercup thought her sister's strange behavior had roots in her mistreatment and was in fact Buttercup's own fault.

"I'll say this, okay, guys? Bubbles has always been good with guessing how people feel, but this? Maybe... I don't know, maybe she's just exhausted and daydreamed that or something."

Blossom's eyes narrowed, her voice quiet and measured, without judgment. "Is that what you think, Buttercup?" Her voice was gentle. She was asking kindly, and Buttercup was listening wholeheartedly, to Bubbles' surprise. "Is that what you think? I am not saying you're wrong. Do you think she is... messed up from you? Right now? Or exhausted? Daydreaming? Right now?"

"No, but I mean... it's not like she's—" She stopped, and for a long moment, she teetered. She honestly questioned herself. Bubbles felt the tip backwards, though. Something else was keeping Butterup away, and she couldn't see it. It wasn't anywhere near the surface, so she couldn't read it; her green-eyed sister scoffed and shook her head in exasperation. "Whatever. If all of you want this? If you want to hold onto this little idea? Entertain it, be my guest. Thinking she had a talk with him just now? It's probably... I dunno, therapy. I'll wait for you guys in the lobby." And she flew away, her thoughts a rush of barely hinted sadness under frustration that no one could consider her right. Again.

Mitch groused, Robin screwed up her face in frustration, and Blossom shook her head.

Bubbles took a long moment, breathing through the emotions she'd just felt, and her friends all put hands on her shoulders. It was easy, then: she shrugged off Buttercup's criticism. She smiled at them. "It is true, though. I was really talking to him."

"Well, I for one believe you," Robin told her seriously, and Bubbles' smiled widened; she could feel that Robin was being honest.

Mitch pursed his lips. "I'm not, like, fully convinced, but I can't say I don't believe it's possible," he opined.

Blossom craned her head slightly. "You're not surprised?"

Both Robin and Mitch shook their heads. "Not really," Mitch answered. "I mean, I think I know what Buttercup's saying about... TV psychics or whatever being a thing... but there are genuine psychics out there. Not merely 'telekinetics,' moving things with their minds, but 'telepaths,' who see into minds."

Robin gave him a look, and he grinned with some significant guilt. "I like to read the tabloids down at the grocery store sometimes. Schlock is fun. And anyway, after what I saw, I think Mike's proof of that, and if Bubbles has those powers too, it's not too far a stretch that one power could be a... gateway into another," and he looked at them, desperate for confirmation, "...right?"

Robin's smile was very tender and intimate, and she put a hand to his face, making Mitch, but also Bubbles and Blossom blush at the frankness of the gesture. "That's a good Mitch." And he laughed, shakily. She turned back to Bubbles, "You know, I... I kind of suspected a while ago, but it's kinda cool to get actual confirmation of it."

As Robin took her hand off Mitch's face, Bubbles breathed a sigh of relief... for multiple reasons. "It's really... nice to hear you guys just... wanting to believe, much less actually believing it. Most people might get nervous about a," and she paused, finally saying the word herself, "psychic like me," and she found that it actually felt good to finally admit it openly, "would be constantly reading their minds, and get all self-conscious."

The two of them blanched, looked at one another, and then looked in different directions. Bubbles' eyebrows rose a quarter of an inch. "I didn't exactly need to read your mind just now."

Blossom grinned. "Neither of you had thought of that."

Mitch scratched the back of his head. "Uh... no," and now his mind was brimming with flashes of imagery that made Bubbles blush and pull away, because he was extremely bad at burying them—and then in surprise had to pull back from Robin as well, for exactly the same reason. She had to focus on Mitch's voice as he went on. "But I guess if you found out we were dating because you read my mind earlier, it kind of makes sense."

"Ah," Bubbles said and looked down at the floor. "Sorry."

"No, it's..." Robin was blushing, but after struggling for a moment, she forced herself to look Bubbles in the eyes. Her mind snapped into focus, all of the ...surprising thoughts vanishing, making Bubbles herself snap to attention. "It's not your fault. You didn't ask for this, so we can't really blame you for anything." She grabbed Bubbles' hands and held them tightly. "You're our friend, no matter what. Okay?"

Bubbles didn't cry. She nodded and smiled.

Mike sat inside his mind, watching the ensuing argument about Bubbles' psychic powers in silence. Mike too had been surprised that she was so powerfully psychic, but probably not as surprised as he should have been, all things considered. After all, her presence was likely responsible for the... relationship between his friends now. It had likely been responsible for all of their moments, the passing glances and casual brushings of hands past hands, making each other jump with intimacy that they weren't mature enough to handle. He should be angry, he thought. She was so strong that she had made the four of them... fall for one another. All at once, and equally, through Bubbles' need for some kind of love. That was his working theory, at least. After all, once he and Bubbles had been removed from the equation, the remainder of the little quartet had immediately become romantic, likely out of familiarity and a hopeless need for comfort.

But he couldn't dwell on that, not right now, with them in the room. Bubbles was too close. He didn't want to let her in right now, partially to protect himself, partially to protect her. He could feel residual self-loathing in her from her behaviors, her despairs, the very things that made her cling to her friends, likely and unknowingly generating what was an emotional feedback loop. Letting her know that she'd probably made them all love one another too sincerely out of desperation would hurt her. He cursed inwardly, having let the idea go on longer than he'd intended, realizing how hard it was to pull away from the other three, who were back in the room with him. He didn't want them to leave. He wanted them desperately to leave. But as they did not react to him, he pondered something else. Something darker, but safer for its darkness. His psychic powers probably worked differently than Bubbles' own. It still meant that they were both psychics, though. Just another thing they had in common, he mused to himself, forcing himself away from the follow-up thought that his recognition of their commonality might have just been Bubbles' power again. A loop, of joy and laughter fighting sadness against all hope of success.

He sighed wistfully as he watched, as he felt Robin, Mitch, and Bubbles leave the room, noting Blossom's furious storm-like noise as she left last, with a long stare at him. From his seat in the black void, he watched as her thoughts grew fast, and then slow. The idea formed.

I'll help you, too, Mike. Hold on.

Then the idea was gone, her mind whirring away impossibly fast. But he caught images. Ideas. "What-If's." Scenes of Mike laughing with them again. He knew Blossom was trying to comfort him, and was surprised that she had worked out so much of the situation at once. He was starting to regret letting himself be so caught up in depression that he stopped trying to go back to the real world. But then Blossom left, too.

He was alone again. Finally, and terribly. What he'd said was mostly true: he still didn't have the courage to pull himself free from his self-created cage. He suspected he had the strength, but... It wasn't right. Something told him so. So he waited, and gradually let the idea bubble up through him, making the cracks on his own self-image, feeling very much as real to him as they'd looked to Bubbles—and he knew how terrible they'd looked to her. The idea was simple: build up his courage. His strength. With Bubbles found, with Robin and Mitch, all of them waiting for him to come out of the coma, he knew that day wouldn't be too far off.

Right then, his other friends returned. The animals returned, and he was surrounded by their vague if comforting presence. He did not smile, however. For with them, the shadow had also returned.

A familiar shadow that was with him still, after all this time; it kept watch from inside the void... biding time. It wanted the day to come too, to see what Mike would do. If Mike could tear this shadow out of him once and for all. The shadow was in tatters. It had been for a long time. But it had never left, and both the shadow and Mike knew it. Knew that it didn't matter if the shadow was in tatters. The shadow's name was in tatters, too, after all. Mike shuddered for a moment, but then thrilled as he could still feel the bright beacons that were the limbs on Bubbles' back as she left the hospital, soaking in the power of all the minds around them. He smiled.

But the shadow smiled, too.