Yes, I know. I said I wasn't going to do a sequel for Taking Responsibility. And it's not a sequel. It's more closure than anything, specifically for the Rowdyruff Boys. This three-part fic is also my Swansong of sorts, as I don't foresee writing for the PpG section after this. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: The Powerpuff Girls don't belong to me and no profit was made from this. All rights belong to Craig McCracken and Cartoon Network.

And the Clock Ticks On

Part I: Clarity
("As I breathe out, the past is gone")

The postcard of the world map was old, crinkled, and had numerous of coffee stains on it. Accompanying the crinkles and the coffee stains were red circles and x's over the different continents, indicating the places he had visited or the places he intended to visit. Folded up and stuffed into his wallet, it had been used and handled so many times it was a wonder that it hadn't been ripped to shreds. Really, though, a couple more uses and it would crumble. Even if that did happen, he'd just find some tape and put it back together. For as long as he had breath, he was going to make sure that the postcard was going to stay with him.

His lips twitched at that thought as he lifted his coffee cup up to his face. His bright blue eyes carefully scanned the area as various people passed him by. There were some on bikes and there were those that walked, but all of them had the same look on their faces. Whether they were talking to their companions next to them or wrapped up in their own little worlds, each of them seemed content and at peace. It was an expression that was once unfamiliar to him and starting to become something normal.

"You look happy."

He looked over at his beautiful companion and smiled. "I like this time of day."

"Around three in the afternoon?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No. Not the time, but thefeeling. It's that time of the day where people are at peace with their surroundings. It's that time when people take a break from their hectic lives and just…be. They stop being businessmen and women, employees and employers, and are just themselves. They stop and appreciate their time with each other or the time they have for themselves. It's peaceful. I love it."

It was her turn to laugh as she sat down across from him. "I understand. It's a good feeling."

The two fell into silence as he continued his game of watching the people around him. He could vaguely hear his companion ordering a cup of coffee next to him, but he just allowed the quiet atmosphere to overwhelm him. Exhaling a breath, he closed his eyes.

"Boomer?"

"Yeah, Bubbles?"

"Are you tired, or are you just enjoying yourself?"

He opened his eyes and winked at the young girl sitting across from him. "Enjoying myself."

The small smile she had on her face grew wider. "Good."

They sat in a comfortable silence once more, the sounds of daily life washing over them. Boomer watched as one person idly traveled down the cobblestone street on a vesper, as a mother and daughter pointed to delicately made dresses through a window, as a young man laughed at whatever the person on the other end of his call said. Bubbles, for her part, watched Boomer before glancing down at her hands.

"I can't believe I nearly destroyed all this."

Bubbles looked up, shock etched on her face. Though Boomer's face was neutral, she could see the painful guilt in his eyes. Softening her look, she murmured, "What do you mean?"

He gestured to everyone around him. "This. I nearly destroyed it."

She stared at him as his words bounced around in her head, trying to process what he just said. She had thought that they had talked through this. She thought that she had settled whatever turmoil was plaguing him. But she could still see it in him, turning around and around in his head.

"The streets of Paris – it's amazing they fixed it to look the way it used to. Beautiful." He didn't seem to see the conflict in her face at what he said previously. Every word he said, cut into her heart. He wasn't just observing the beauty of the old European city. No, he was observing everything – and everyone – he could have destroyed. This wasn't just enjoyment. This was atonement.

Then she knew.

(After all, why wouldn't she? She knew him better than anyone else.)

From the moment he was released from his cage, Boomer had been unstoppable. He had wanted to visit every place he had read or heard about. He wanted to completely immerse himself in the life that Bubbles had so vividly described to him in days of yore. Bubbles, knowing this desire, wanted to experience every moment with him. She wanted to see him move beyond his past and become someone different, someone better.

While she had thought the trip was about experiencing the new aspect of life, she had missed that Boomer was on a journey of atonement. Or, perhaps, it was punishment? He wanted to see the places he felt he nearly destroyed, to see the people he felt he nearly crumbled underneath his fist.

"No."

Boomer jerked his head towards Bubbles at her strong word. Blinking slowly, he repeated, "No?"

She reached across the table and placed a hand on his hand. "You didn't destroy the world."

Now it was his turn to stare at her, at the woman whom had started out as his savior and was quickly becoming his foundation. Furrowing his eyebrows, he started to say, "But–"

"No." She violently shook her head. Bubbles clasped both of her hands on his one now. She stared at him with such conviction he could feel it in the depths of his soul. She shook her head again. "You didn't nearly destroy this world. I cannot take back your past. What's done is done."

When the guilt in his eyes didn't leave, she stood up, went to him, and kneeled before him. Gently brushing her fingertips against his cheek, she murmured, "It's time to embrace your future. Every second you spend immersing yourself in guilt, you miss out on this gift presented to you. Look around, Boomer. The humans pass by you without a second glance."

At her words, Boomer looked at the people around them and saw she was right. At the other tables of the café they were in, people were busy talking amongst each other, not sparing the two blondes a glance. On the streets, people walked by without looking at them, at him. In the buildings, people moved on with their lives, not concerned with them.

"They know who you are. They know what you did." She placed both hands on his face and directed his gaze on her. She smiled. "But they don't stop you from being a part of them because they have forgiven you. Boomer, you are forgiven."

Something in her words twisted his heart.

Forgiven.

It was such a small word, but such a powerful one to him. He took another moment to glance at the distracted people around him. They didn't stop him from entering their cities, they didn't stop him from eating their food, and they didn't stop him from sitting at this table.

As those thoughts settled inside of his soul, a cup of coffee was slide onto the table. Boomer jerked, startled, as he realized it was the coffee Bubbles ordered. He glanced at the beverage, vaguely aware Bubbles was getting up to accept her order, and then heard their waitress say, "Anything else I can get you, monsieur? Mademoiselle?"

Tentatively, he glanced up at the waitress. There she stood – a small, fragile thing – and patiently waiting for him to say something. When he didn't say anything, the waitress very slowly offered him a smile. That took the breath away from his lungs because the smile was genuine. It was true, honest, and open smile. A human was smiling at him as if he was any other person. Then he realized Bubbles was right.

He was forgiven.

"No," he whispered, fighting back tears. "No, everything is fine. Perfect, even." He shuddered a breath. "Thank you."

The waitress's smile grew wider and simply nodded at him before turning away. He knew she didn't understand the deeper meaning, the gratefulness behind his 'thank you,' but he knew it was all right.

(It was okay because he was forgiven.)

He brought his hand to his mouth as he turned back to people watching, the guilt swept away with raw joy. He didn't move when Bubbles scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, her coffee cradled in her hands. And he didn't stop watching the people around him when Bubbles asked him, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

And he could only answer with the truth.

"Yes."