Work.

School

Stress.

Play.

Rinse, repeat. Such are the aspects of all young school children, with different portions of each depending on their lifestyle. A good bath wiped away the marks and blemishes that such aspects left upon their bodies. Bruises, scratches, sores and dirt. Sweat and tears and stuff that hurt. To take such things away was easy. They always came back; it was unavoidable. Most children allowed it without thinking, and often ended up laughing about it, although some might cry at first. Children - normal children - would go about their lives day to day without a single thought of why they did. They simply enjoyed it as they grew older, but all children go through a stage in their life where nothing is there to worry them, to occupy their every thought with the consequences of possible failure and what a single, critical moment could do to their still-young lives. For most people, these concerns did not arise until they reached their teenage years. School was an avenue for friendship and fun until High School, when things began to count. Actions became difference-makers and knowledge was currency. One wrong move, and a person's life could be brought down because in some cases there was no such thing as a second chance. Such things, by default, were normally the concerns of older children who had the experience and preparation to deal with such things.

Blossom folded her arms, creating a small splash as she did so. Sometimes she hated being a Super. Like High Schoolers, she too was cursed with such monumental worries. All the preparation she had made... all that she had yet to make. One wrong move and it would mean nothing. Problem was, she didn't know when her exam was. She had devoted herself to putting in as much time as she could to her readiness, and the bath was helping her to remove the tarnishes her body had sustained. Both in body and mind, she was wrecked once again and was looking forward to a good night's sleep in her warm bed, next to her sisters who were probably just as beat. She glanced sidewards at Bubbles, who was playing with a blanket of her namesake that coated her body like a slippery jacket. A particularly large and fluffy assemblage of the foam was perched atop her nose, wiggling and teetering as her head moved, in danger of falling off whilst never quite managing to. But she didn't seem to notice it was there at all, and she continued to coat her hands in the soapy white froth as if they were treasured gloves of the latest fashion. She didn't seem worn out at all, but she barely showed anything other than her natural exuberance. Blossom believed that if that girl were not happy, not cheerful and not blissfully oblivious to every negative or deathly-serious thing in this crazy, messed-up, unfair world, she would not be Bubbles.

On her other side, seeming moody and rather uncomfortable amongst family and the sea of white waves and warm depths, Buttercup sat with her arms folded in a more huffy manner to Blossom. She always hated baths, particularly when the Professor told her to take them with her sisters and not have her own all to herself. She liked really warm baths, so warm that Bubbles could never share the same five-sided irregular pentagon spa tub with her. So instead she was made to sit here, in less than desirable temperatures, feeling uncomfortable due to what she called 'public nudity' despite the only audience being girls she knew very well and who were just as clotheless, all in an effort to stay social and save water. Of all of them, she would bear the most obvious ravages of preparation and formulation. Her scuffs and scrapes probably hand't even gotten wet yet. All she had done was sit down, hold her arms and sook to herself. Not even a mumbled curse or a stifled groan of annoyance. She became a moody fortress, untouched and forboding. Looking into those narrowed, steely emerald eyes would tell anyone that if you disturbed her, you died. She had expressed a great desire to get ahold of some hair gel and go to work making a new hairstyle that fit her mood. Blossom imagined something spiky, something expressive, something.... loud. But a bath would possibly ruin gelled hair, so that was just another reason for Buttercup to hate this, the worst of times.

Those dirt marks and scratches didn't come from any sort of test preparation, however. Blossom didn't mean that they were keeping their heads in their books. There was nothing scheduled in the way of major coursework for the next few weeks, since the winter holidays and Christmas were not far away and the school had a strict policy that every child at every year level deserved a lengthy and relaxing break from the pressures of deadlined work. Yet the girls were still flat-out in readiness for something. Something big. Something important. Something life-changing and life-threatening. Something they didn't know to expect, for they had no idea how it would come to them. Or when. Their only hint was through Dexter, who happened to be able to keep his 'Nerdvision', as Buttercup put it, on the heavens above this lonesome little world on this side of the Galaxy Arm. If the 'test' was approaching, she would find out. But from what they had all learned from the downloaded information taken from Barasia's head in their previous, nearly disastrous encounter with the estranged gynoid, it may not exactly be the end of it, even if they won. Another test would follow in Barasia's wake. One even more mindless, bringing more wanton destruction. That was why they were here, in this bath, together. They had been training. Had been ever since blowing up that big Matri-whatsy in orbit and getting back puffed out (no pun intended) and alive. Training for the moment that the rogue girl would return. The one moment when they would meet again for what they knew would be a final time. Their training sessions inside and outside the house, inside and outside of themselves were learning experiences. As they grew, so too did their powers and new journies of discovery could be taken every day. The Professor with pleased with them, but he would not be the one to tell them how much was enough. Blossom sighed, feeling tired and agitated. She doubted any amount of training could be considered 'enough'.

With her sigh turning into a worn-out moan, she slumped sidewards, her head falling to her right and knocking gently into the soft skin of a shoulder, her cheek rubbing against slippery, wettened strands of hair that sprawled across those shoulders like delicate curtains. Only, the hair was not blonde and bubble-laden, or ash-black, dry and wishing it could be punked up with gel. The hair was the colour of sweet, sweet sugar and smelt almost as tasty. The shoulder was not covered with skin, but by a rubbery synthetic so complex and so accurate that it was impossible to tell it was not actual skin. The flesh beneath that skin was not flesh at all; it was a mixture of poly-alloy components comprising the metal endoskeleton, meshings of wirings, systems and circuits linked up to an ultra-high-speed processor and a multi-exabyte positronic brain, and various liquid-filled gel packs in important areas, like the stomach, arms, cheeks and so forth to simulate the plushyness of babyfat and muscle. To Blossom's satisfaction she felt the girl's cheek come to rest against her own head, the girl returning Blossom's tired show of affection. There were four little girls in the tub, tonight. Blossom couldn't help but think that their newest spa-mate was the prettiest of all four. Salt-white hair, unconstrained because of the lack of a headband, fell in gentle plumes across her back, shoulders and into the water where it turned silver. Two large hollow eyes stared upward as though in a daydream. A hand, propped up by the arm which rested on the spa's edge, held the weight of her head and gave her the disposition of someone afflicted with a question of which there was no obvious answer. A tiny smile was on her face, regardless. Blossom yawned, looking forward to a warm bed tonight.

"You seem distracted, Bell..." Blossom tiredly noted.

"Maybe..." was the answer.

"Distraction isn't allowed!" barked Buttercup, her first words since shedding her clothes and reluctantly joining her sisters, "We can't get distracted!" she added, glancing away, "Not yet... and NOT now!" she looked very uncomfortable. She'd most most likely prefer to bathe in a vat of acid than sit here in the pearl-white spa with her two sisters and the one she didn't like because she was 'adopted'.

"What's wrong, Buttercup?" asked Bubbles from her side of the large, strangely shaped spa which looked more like a tiny swimming pool, "Don't you tend to think of something you like in your spare time?"

Buttercup lifted her fists from the water, her fingers unclenching. She stared down at them as though they were foreign objects that didn't belong. "How long have we been at this now? Wrecking our bodies and sleeping more at school than at home?"

"Only you sleep at school." noted Blossom.

Buttercup ignored her, "If we're so damn dedicated to preparing for some big event that mightn't even happen, then why is Bell allowed to daydream so much?"

Bell shrugged, then grinned a bit. "If you're so fixed on bulking yourself up, you do that. The rest of us will take some much-needed rest when we need to. And if you have no imagination, ever, even though you're being out-imagined by someone like me who was not born with one naturally, then that's. Just. Sad." she poked her tongue out.

Buttercup whirled on her, rising from the water, the angry bubble-beast provoked into a pending rampage, "You take that back!" she growled.

Bell winked, "No."

Buttercup stood up, clenching her fists. They started to pulse with vivid emerald orbs of contained energy that seemed to build before the gynoid's eyes. Bell had seen those before, in the training simulator. She wasn't getting stronger, really. If anything, Buttercup was just discovering new ways to release pent-up stress and cause destruction in some flashy new way. Bell knew she was learning differently, though. Different ways to harness her power. Different ways to commune with herself and with the others. A way to... she gave a sidewards glance at Blossom, before dropping her gaze. She'd only tried it with her. Privately. But it had worked. It was because of the bond they shared. That little special something that she shared with Blossom, despite their immense differences. The something that not even Barasia had. She was glad they had a talk in this very bathroom that night, almost three months ago. She had taken many baths since then. Since she could now feel the warmth of the water, she enjoyed each one to the point that her favourite kind of bath was always the next one. There had to be some way to thank her. Thank all of them. The time they had spent together so far had been so short, but so precious. She prayed for as much as she could. She loved them all, but never told them. She found she was so distracted that it took a moment to snap back to reality, seeing a furious Buttercup, clothed in nothing but a thin layer of bubbles, standing over her with a pair of glowing fists. "TAKE IT BACK!" she was screaming.

Bell blinked, "Um..."

Bubbles looked horrified, wiping her mask of foam off and splashing her sister with indignation, "Buttercup, you IDIOT! You can't do THAT here!" she screamed.

Buttercup seethed, "I will if she doesn't take it back! I am NOT sad!"

Blossom closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall of the bathroom, still submerged in the deep and frothy water, "You are when you threaten her when you're butt-naked!"

Buttercup flushed red, her twin fistspheres fading mercifully like lightbulbs switched off. Bell's arm snapped out and whacked Buttercup in the back of the leg. With a surprised yelp, Buttercup fell backward into the water she hated so much, kicking up a giant splash that went everywhere across the bathroom. Blossom and Bubbles started laughing, but Bell merely narrowed her eyes slyly, planted her elbows back on the side of the tub, rested her chin in her hands, and began to let her mind wander again. Bubbles was still giggling, "Get back up when you quit being so childish."

Buttercup gurgled a curse beneath the water that lapped over her mouth. Her eyes were narrowed in frustration and defeat. So she just lay there. Couldn't get worse, right? Not unless Bubbles decided to sit on her. "Crap..." she mumbled beneath the bubbles her mouth blew. She reckoned that it would be just her luck that Bubbles would decide to do such a thing. She still felt lousy about being so brash and arrogant and made to look stupid. She had wanted to build her 'bad girl' image a bit, both at home and at school. But she was taking baths. No good. She was falling for her gym teacher. No good. And she was exposing herself unwittingly when she got angry. Not as bad as getting nanoed, but still not good.

But for the moment she was dressing her arm up in the foam as though putting on a ballroom gown. She was fond of her namesake coating her like a second skin. She had once said that the bubbles were like little friends that helped her get washed every day. There was one time when she even told Blossom and Buttercup that the bubbles cared about her and were giving her a hug. They weren't sure if Bubbles was delirious and tired or not, but it sounded very cute either way. She had also once experienced some sort of revolutionary (and seemingly rare) bath product called Bubble Parade, which didn't seem to require much in the way of lathering up the normal way. The girls couldn't remember where she would have gone on her own to have tried that out, but whatever it was, it didn't beat a traditional bath with her sisters, "Do you think Barasia takes baths? I wonder how much she's like us?"

Blossom glanced at Bell. The girl hadn't even flinched at the mention of that name. Nor did she reply to the question. Buttercup was still grumping, half-sunk in her little area of the bath, beneath the multitude of bubbles that the gentle spa jets kept replenishing. There was nobody else to answer but herself. She grabbed a bunch of her sodden hair, brought it over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it to prevent knotting. "I don't think she would... she doesn't want to be like us, right? So, uh..." 'Why am I answering this?' she sighed, "Ask Bell."

Bell blinked, "Huh?"

Bubbles tilted her head, "Does Barasia take baths?"

Bell blinked, "No... but... I think she secretly wants to experience some things we do... do you wish she did?" she asked, answering Bubbles' question.

Bubbles was silent for a moment and she glanced at Blossom, who shrugged and continued to tend to her long, orange pride and joy. "Um.... it... would be nice..."

Bell lifted her head away from her hands and looked Bubbles right in the eyes. Bubbles shrank back a bit, still terrified by a head-on stare from those blank quartz eyes, "Do you wish things could be different?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, do you wish that we never had to fight her? That we had never lost so much?"

"Of course!" replied Bubbles.

"Do you wish that maybe we could ALL be sisters and get along for once?"

Blossom threw a glance at Buttercup, who wasn't paying attention, whilst Bubbles replied fierily again.

"Is that what you wish for, Bubbles?" Bell asked, pleadingly, "Is that the sort of thing you let distract you?"

"I think about it all the time!" Bubbles declared loudly, almost patriotically.

Bell shook her head, "Then you should know that Barasia wouldn't ever do that. She wouldn't take a bath, try food or experience the sort of things we do. You can think about it all you want. Pray, hope, wish, long for it..." she sighed, her expression sullen, "It'll never happen... not like this."

Bubbles most likely missed the connotation Blossom heard in those words. And she agreed with Bell. Not like this. There was no way Barasia would change like this. And they had long ago agreed, in some cases reluctantly, that the only way to save the universe from Barasia... to save Barasia from herself... was to kill her. They need not mention what had been sacrificed to get them here. Just the mere mention of the black Shadowpuff's name was enough to bring it flooding back. Bell found it surprising that Bubbles could speak it so easily. "Is it wrong of me..." came a voice, one that hadn't spoken in a little while. It was Buttercup, sitting up, with a dull yet serious expression on her face. Her charcoal hair, drenched and dripping, stuck to her nape and back, showing just how long it truly was, "Is it wrong of me to say that I never thought that way?" she had indeed been listening. Now she seemed almost shy to say it. Buttercup? Shy? "I never, for a second, believed that it would be a good thing to have her with us!" she shifted her gaze between the three girls, all of whom were paying her due attention. Even Bubbles. She liked it when that ditzy blonde actually listened. "I just... I just... well, when I saw all the stuff she did when we first met her, on the bridge... her butchering all those officers, blowing up all those vehicles, I just... I just can't believe it, even now! She used a plane as a missile!" she cried out emotively. Her sisters didn't need reminding. Bell just stared blankly, as usual. "And then when she killed.... when she...." she broke off, not needing to explain, "You know what I'm on about! Is it a bad thing that I'm the only one here who thinks she should burn for her crimes rather than accept a friendly handshake and get soapy with us??"

Blossom and Bubbles glanced between themselves. Buttercup was an unlikely voice of reason, speaking the nasty truth about their illusions and their shallow fantasies. It surprised the both of them. How typical it was for Buttercup to see things in such a bland manner. But how rare it was that it frightening sense. When her two sisters said nothing, Buttercup grit her teeth. But she didn't have to wait long to hear an answer. "Cuppy..." Bell murmured, using a nickname Buttercup disliked because it sounded too cute for her. Buttercup didn't mind, this one time, "I think... that there's nothing wrong with that at all. You're seeing it how it really is. Me and the others... we're just some naive little girls with some stupid wants that'll never be satisfied. I'm... almost jealous of you, Buttercup."

Buttercup went redder in the cheeks, "That's.... great..."

"I wish I could think of the kinda stuff you did." Bell noted, "Then maybe I wouldn't be so upset with myself...." she added, solemnly. She still blamed herself. After all, it would have been so easy to hand herself over to Barasia back when she had asked her to. But instead she resisted, and now so much pain had been caused. But then again... if she had given herself over... how much of that pain may have instead be caused by herself instead? She was at a moral impasse and it didn't matter what decision she had chosen. Too much had been lost. They were preparing themselves for a last stand. If they failed... so much more would be lost next time around.

Bell felt a hand gently touch her shoulder. It was Bubbles, the timid one. She had often kept her distance around Bell, simply because the gynoid nearly frightened her to death sometimes. But the haunting looks and chilling nature of her life was not enough to stop Bubbles' show of sympathy in times like these, "So... what do you think about... instead of that? Are there things that cheer you up?"

Bell pondered for a moment. Good question. She'd learnt a lot in her life. She tried to think of something appealing. Something that spoke to her and drew her in. Something that latched onto her inner personality and reflected an aspect of herself that was clear as day yet as deep as the ocean. Something that said 'I am Bell Utonium!' Then something came to her mind that made her smile. Something she could enjoy thinking about when she had the time. Something that pranced around in her head like a dance that urged her to join it. Something that represented her. "Ponies."

Bubbles' face lit up, "Hey! Bell, that's great! I love ponies t-"

"I like to think about ripping apart ponies."

Everything stopped. Two jaws dropped whilst the third twisted into an incredulous 'what the hell?' smirk. Bell looked unusually happy for someone who had morbid visions about tearing up innocent, defenceless creatures. Bubbles and Blossom closed their gaping jaws, Bubbles going so far as to mutter, "O....k...."

Bell was beaming, "You know, I like it best when you grab one leg..." she mimed seizing something in the air in front of her, "...and then another, and..." she seized another 'leg' before her. Bubbles looked away, unable to watch, even if it wasn't real. Then Bell twisted one of her hands almost unnaturally around before snapping it upward, the other one wrenching downward into the water, splashing Blossom and Buttercup as she did. Bell closed her eyes, still smiling. She imagined the blood everywhere, the severed body parts and the defenceless little horsie, kicking and flailing with its remaining legs, "Hey... do ponies scream?"

"Ugh..." grumbled Buttercup, shaking her head. Bell glanced at her, confused and innocently, as though unaware of whether she'd done anything wrong. Suddenly, from her other side, Bubbles whimpered, got to her feet, bounded out of the spa, seized her sky-blue towel and ran from the room, still dripping wet and snivelling softly. Bell blinked, not understanding. Then Buttercup again rose to her feet, too. Their bodies were identical in almost every way. Flesh or synthetic, it didn't matter. They all looked like they belonged in the same family. But Buttercup was in no mood to agree, "You've never changed. You're still the same twisted, feral little brute you were when you tried to hurt Blossom that day. It's disgusting..."

"Buttercup..." mumbled the two girls together.

"Blossom, you can stay with this psycho if you want, but I'm getting out." she said with finality. Then, huffily, she turned and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving a perplexed and hurt Bell staring at her as she went. Her hollow eyes stayed fixed upon the doorframe after Buttercup's lithe form had passed beyond it. Her bottom lip started to quiver involuntarily, shame and remorse welling up inside like magma about to spew from a volcano. But as though sensing she was about to collapse into a sniffling mess, Blossom was beside her again in an instant.

"Why do I have to keep messing up!?" Bell squealed indignantly. "I can't let go of my old self! It's part of me? Why can't they accept it like you did?"

"Sometimes it's hard for them to remember that you're not like us." Blossom reminded, placing a hand on the sythetic-sodden shoulder. She could never get over how real she felt, "And... it's not exactly common for people to like thinking about harming animals like that."

"But I like doing that to cute things." she pouted, defending her case.

"You don't have to tell me twice..." Blossom actually blushed. Bell had once wanted to rip her apart. Did that make her cute? She hoped so. "But the important thing to know is," she got to her feet, hand still on Bell's shoulder. She wasn't ashamed to be exposed like this. After all, the awkwardness disappeared during their first bath, when Bell had come in uninvited but had earned the right to stay, "that they still care about you, no matter who you are or what you like to daydream about. The fact that you're even able to daydream is great, because I'm sure that, under other circumstances, you would not have been built with that privilege."

"Daddy was very strict..." Bell murmured.

Blossom stepped out of the bath, extending her hand for Bell to clasp. The gynoid did so, rising from the bubbly waters as though she was their embodiment. They were both still covered in the gentle foam. The two girls stood before each other, unabashed about their mutual nudity. Was this sisterhood? Sometimes Blossom felt more comfortable with Bell, the girl who had once tried to kill her, than she did with her real sisters. "So come on. Don't worry about it, ok?" she smiled a bit. When Bell saw it, its infectiousness took hold on her too. A moment later, both of them were smiling broadly, grateful for every passing moment they spent together. They each knew a lot about their lives, and about each other. They had been shown how fragile they could be; how easily their lives could be taken away. If they had their way, they'd stay together forever. Blossom loved Bell. So much. But she had never actually said those words to her. She had the feeling Bell knew it, regardless, "You don't have to go to school with them, anyway. More reason to be happy."

"I..." Bell blinked, shyly, "I want to go to school... I never had the chance to... neither did she..."

Blossom sighed, reaching for the towels. Bell's doll-white and oh-so-fluffy towel now hung on the same rail as did the strawberry, azure and emerald towels. Blossom took that first and handed it to Bell, sighing, "There's always something getting in the way..."

"I want to... be able to..." Bell blushed, "I wanna be able to live life the way you do!" she blurted, not meaning to spill the truth quite so sincerely. She had a hard time keeping it to herself, though. "I... I wanna share your lives... I... I'm a Powerpuff now."

Blossom felt so happy once again that she could have cried right there. But she held back, "Y-Yes... yes, you are." As Bell wrapped herself in her fluffy shell of white manchester, Blossom took her own towel and slid it around her torso so that it covered her from chest to knee. It was like a bed you could take with you. The contrast of their colours seemed even more obvious now. Two little sugar fairies. Strawberry and vanilla flavours.

"I don't want to be yelled at again." Bell admitted, "What happens if they ask me something that I might respond to in a bad way?" Pony-ripping was fun. But it wasn't right, it seemed.

"If you want to live like us, you'll need to learn to lie." Blossom winked, "But what can they do even if they do get mad? They need you. I need you. We need each other for this." she turned toward the door, looking forward to slipping into her warm nightgown. The nights were getting colder (which Buttercup hated with a passion as hot as a well-kept fireplace) so it was important to go from bath to towel to PJ's in quick succession. Sometimes Blossom preferred to go bath - towel - bedsheets, but her sisters seemed to not appreciate her lack of proper bedwear on such occasions. Bell, on the other hand, would have preferred to go bath - towel - Blossom's arms. She had felt that embrace before. She could sleep in those arms, they were so tender and comfy. Bell watched her leaving, her hair dripping droplets onto the floor. Something prodded her. A thought. A desire. Almost like instinct. Something she had to do. Something that needed to happen.

"Blossom!" she called, just as the girl was about to disappear in search of her sisters and her nightclothes.

Blossom wheeled, hair still damp but able to swing freely, "Yeah?"

"There's... um..." her cheeks flushed so red they could paint a fire engine. The throbbing, burning feeling she felt in them was intense. "I wanted... to tell you something..."

"You ok?" Blossom asked, noticing the bright-red flush on Bell's face, "Was the water too hot?"

"No, no..." Bell shook her head, "I'm fine. I just... I wanted... uh..." she looked into the deep magenta eyes, trying to bring her thoughts into words. But every second that passed, the words she wanted to say seemed less and less important. Less memorable. Less sensible. She wanted to tell her. The feeling was genuine. Was this the time? Was it appropriate? Would it be better to save it for when the trouble was all behind them? Or at least until she put some clothes on? The beautiful face of the only girl she had left that cared about her the way she had wished a sister would waited eagerly for what she had to say. But those words never came. She stuttered just a moment before mumbling the words "Thanks... for saving me from Buttercup..." 'DAMMIT!' her mind screamed.

Blossom wandered toward her, grinning as though her words were a fine substitute for what she truly meant to say. The seemed very jolly lately, compared to how she had once been. After Breannin, after Jazzal, and now the Professor... sometimes it seemed her world was just a dark pit that swallowed her before spitting out her remnants. But in times like this, it was as though her world was paradise. Was she hiding how she felt about it all? She was a good actor, "Heeeey." she said, cheekily. Mischieviously. Lovingly. She winked. Bell felt a tingle in her tummy that she wished would linger for longer. Blossom grabbed Bell's right hand and placed her own hand within it. Blossom's fingers began to glow with a gentle pink aura that began to spread to Bell's open hand, "I'm your sister now. It's my job."

"Th-Thankyou..."

Blossom beamed, running a finger along Bell's palm and whispering, "Thank me when all this is over, and we can live together in some slice of happiness."

"Ok." Bell whispered, even quieter. That tingle occurred again, and she nearly moaned at the feeling. Blossom withdrew her hand, but Bell's hand kept glowing with an energy that was not hers. She had done this before. Twice before. She knew how it worked. It was a little something they had discovered by complete accident and doubted they would ever implement, but it served as an iconic gesture, girl to girl, Puff to Puff, sister to sister. Bell raised her hand before her and watched as the shimmering pink light began to lose its colour, instead starting to radiate as a vivid silver-white luminescence. Blossom was overjoyed. Bell closed her hand into a fist, the radiance engulfing her fingers, knuckles and wrist. Then, slowly, it faded as she called the energy into herself, drawing it deep inside to where she could keep it safe. She felt a smile upon her face, thankful for the little gift Blossom had generously given to her. Once the energy donation completed, Blossom gave a content giggle and dashed out of the room, hair and towel trailing off her and struggling to keep up. Bell unclenched her fingers and her hand fell back to her side. It was bedtime soon. Tomorrow meant more training. More self-discovery. More bitter thoughts about her sister, the damage and abuse she had caused, and the way that things might have been if even one thing in their past had been different.

Blossom, like the small bit of her power she had just donated to Bell, was the light shining through those horrors. A guide to the solace she sought. She needed her. They needed each other. All four needed one another. She wanted to make them vow to never be apart from her again. It wasn't what she was born into, but to Bell, this was her true family now. Without them, she was nothing and would have nothing. If they abandoned her again, she didn't dare think of what might happen. Blossom had told her to thank her after the problems with Barasia were sorted out. Bell shook her head, still bright red, and whispered to herself, "Blossom... I... I don't think I can wait that long...."