The birds outside the window of Buttercup's hospital room flew freely, making somersaults and figure eights in the blue sky. Buttercup wished she was free. Free from this world. But she wasn't. She was still alive, much to her chagrin. Was that Butch I heard when I was dying? she thought. She shook her head. It must've been the pills.
A sudden slam alarmed her and she turned towards the door. To her astonishment, Butch stood there with a hand gripping the doorknob and the other hand on his hip, his face showing his emotions freely. "Here I am," he said with a snarl. "Alive and well and mad as hell."
He strode into the room and slammed the door behind him, making her jump again. "You'd better give me a damn explanation why you tried to commit suicide or else I'm going to hit you. And I'll remind you I don't give a damn if I break your face."
She stayed quiet, tactfully keeping her eyes focused on the window. "Damn it, Buttercup!" He stomped the floor and cracks appeared on the surface. "Give me a damn answer!"
She turned her head towards him. "Butch, relax. You'll break the whole hospital. But I'm glad you're alive."
"You're trying to stray from the subject!" he exclaimed. "Why the hell would you try suicide to solve your problems?!"
Slowly, Buttercup moved to a sitting position. "Isn't that what people who were depressed do?" She sounded rather innocuous, which only added to his fire of anger.
"You're lying to me! You've done some stupid things before but you never did anything stupid like try to die all because other depressed people did it!"
"Did you just call me stupid?!" That made her drop the innocence act when she heard him call her stupid.
"Then let's say you were idiotic!"
"I'm not idiotic!"
"Of course you are!" he retorted. "If you weren't idiotic, you'd really tell me the truth because trying suicide all because other people had done it is the stupidest excuse I'd ever heard of!"
"Butch, shut up!"
They stayed in a glaring match until Buttercup closed her eyes and lied back down on the pillow. "Butch, I'm really not in the mood for a confrontation."
He moved to the foot of the bed and braced his hands on the edge. "Buttercup, I don't give a damn whether you're in the mood for a confrontation or not." His voice was low and dangerous. "If you don't want a confrontation, answer my damn questions."
"So ask!" She threw her hands up in the air and let them fall back onto the bed.
Butch dug in his pocket and threw the empty container he'd found yesterday on her lap. She sat up again and picked up the small cylindrical object. "This is your question? Sleeping pills?"
"So you know what they are."
"Of course I do! I bought these!"
"Yeah, to kill yourself." Although he was using a measured tone, his voice was plainly thick with anger. "Utonium tracked down the pharmacy you bought this from. Roseford Health Center. The pharmacist said you told her you were having sleeping problems so she recommended that."
"I wasn't lying!" she said defensively.
"Then what the hell were you doing at night if you were having sleeping problems?" he demanded.
"I..." She seemed at a loss for words. It wasn't difficult to see she didn't want to tell him.
"Buttercup, what the hell would you be doing late at night if you had sleeping problems?!" His voice rose angrily. She was obviously disinclined to tell him. He walked over to her and grabbed her by the collar of her hospital gown so they were a mere few inches apart. "Buttercup, I warned you I wouldn't be scared to hit you."
She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, as if she was bracing for the hit. But she completely surprised him when tears crept out from under her closed eyelids. "What the hell?" He let go of her and she fell back onto the pillow. She threw her arm over her eyes and he could hear her sob.
He only stood there, unable to move. Indeed, this was a new experience for him, seeing the strong girl in front of him cry. "You going to tell me or not?" His voice sounded less angry but angry nonetheless.
"At night..." Her voice sounded shaky. "When I can't sleep... which is more often than you think... I go to my desk drawer and take out this... pair of scissors and—"
"Shit!" She winced at the sound of his voice. He paced the room for a few seconds, his hand pressed to his forehead. He stopped and turned towards her. "Where?"
"Dr. Villanueva said—"
"Where?!" His voice seemed to echo through the whole room.
Buttercup appeared to have no words to give him. In a silent answer, she sat up and put her hand, fingers spread, on her stomach. Then she placed her hand on two other sectors on her midsection.
"Crap!" He kicked the wall hard enough for a shallow hole to appear. He continued to pace and ran both hands through his spiked dark hair. "How long?"
"I don't really—"
"I said how long!"
"A week after moving to Roseford," she said quietly. For some odd reason, she didn't like telling him all this because this was the first time she'd seen him freaking out this much. His lips were moving but no sound came out. She didn't need to ask to know he was muttering curses.
Finally, he paused in his pacing to start hitting his head against the wall. "Butch, if you don't stop, you'll crack your head."
"My head will be fine! This is coming from the girl who tried to OD!"
"Butch, just calm down—"
She stopped when Butch turned to her, fury blazing in his forest green eyes. Whoa, he's really messed up about this. Does that mean he cares?
"You want me to calm down? Then tell me why you tried to commit suicide. Because of your damn superhero brain, you should've thought how people would be affected if you died and what would happen to your family and all that crap! So why?!"
And then her temper flared. "Why didn't you?!"
"Why didn't I what?!"
"Why didn't you think about how people would be affected if you died and what would happen to your family?!"
"Why would I think that?!" Butch snapped at her. "Nobody cares about me, Brick, or Boomer and you know what happened to my family?! My family died with me on that battlefield!"
"Well, maybe somebody cares!" she protested.
"Somebody like who?!"
"Maybe somebody like me!" He froze, hearing this declaration. She just went on. "Or somebody like Blossom! Or Bubbles!" Tears fell from her eyes but she merely ignored this. "Don't you know how messed up we were after you died?! We didn't get to sleep until three in the morning after you and your damn family died on that battlefield! And the only consolation?! That you'd be revived! So don't you damn say that nobody cares!"
And an interesting scene it was; Butch, standing frozen, his hands slightly upraised as if in an attempt to stop her tirade; Buttercup, panting and red in the face with a poisonous glare filled with tears. And the only words Butch could think to say was, "You care?"
Buttercup wiped her tears away and looked at him with clear eyes. "Of course I do. So does Blossom and Bubbles. Why would we be so upset after you died?"
Butch didn't exactly know what to make of it. "Alright, fine." He leaned against the wall. "I got my answer there. So answer me another one. Why did you try to kill yourselves? And I don't want you answering it's what depressed people do. What? You made a pact to kill yourselves?"
Buttercup nodded. "It's just..."
"Just what, Buttercup?"
"Blossom said what we were feeling was a psychological phenomenon. When you want to go back to the very place you left, even though you left because you hated it there. And we were feeling really... down then."
"Explain." His anger had returned and it felt as if his eyes could bore holes through her with his gaze alone.
"It's sort of like..." She shook her head. "We weren't really happy in Roseford. But we weren't happy in Megaville either. It's like we wouldn't be happy anywhere. And we realized the problem."
"And that is?"
She shrugged but weariness was evident in her green eyes. "Well... we were tired... of everything. We tricked the professor and all those other scientists, Butch... Tricked them into thinking we were fine... even tricked ourselves. We were tired of everything..."
"So you made that pact to kill yourselves?"
She only shrugged in an answer, meaning yes. Butch ran a hand through his hair. He needed to say something in case something like this happened again. "Buttercup?"
"Hm?"
"If we die again, don't you damn go into a downward spiral and do this again because I'm telling you right now, doing any of that shit isn't going to make me happy."
She smiled, the weariness fading. "Okay."
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DISCLAIMER AGAIN FOR ANYONE STILL READING: IF YOU'VE MADE IT THIS FAR, IT'S VERY OBVIOUS THAT THERE ARE ELEMENTS OF DEPRESSION, SUICIDE, AND SELF-HARM.
So, that's Blossom and that's Buttercup. Let's try to see how Boomer and Bubbles are doing so far. \(^_^) /
- BlackAndWhitePersona