Agent Harrison wrings his hands nervously. His breaths come in pants, filtering through his clenched teeth and exhaled in the same manner. The young commando’s eyes dart hurriedly, on the lookout for something, anything, that might pose a threat. He isn’t normally so on edge like this. But then, he has plenty of reason to be afraid.
They had taken her. Taken her! She was there one moment, and the next she had vanished from the public eye. It is classified information, he knows, but as the guard assigned to watch Kim Possible, he is privileged with information unknown even to the President of the United States. Or is it a curse?
Kim Possible was more than a poster-child for GJ to Agent Harrison. She was his idol. She never let herself get taken advantage of, and she always saved the world with a smile. Being the patriotic young man that he was, Harrison had decided to join GJ so that he, too could save the world. He couldn’t have been more than 18 at the time. Now, at age 24, he can’t believe how much the world has changed in six years.
Immediately after he graduated from training, Agent Harrison was tasked with helping to quell a revolution in Latin America, they type of duty usually reserved for the CIA and other such covert—yet publicly known—agencies. He had gone there full of hope, only to be confronted with the brutal reality of battle. Not full-scale war by any means, but the experience changed him. It was then he realized that Kim Possible was the luckiest world-saver on the planet. She got all the easy jobs. She was more of a distraction than anything, someone to get the enemy’s attention while agents like him did all the dirty work. His perception of her changed and he began to think of her as a high maintenance bitch who didn’t like to get her nails dirty.
Which is why he had requested this post. He thought it would be good for Dr. Director to make the little brat grow up a little. She needed to learn about the darker side of life as he had. But even he thinks that the torture was too much.
Being tortured is one thing. Watching someone get tortured is something completely different. In his training, Agent Harrison has been taught how to hold out against a captor who wants to glean information from you. You have to let the pain pass through you, but not submit. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to learn. What disturbed him the most is that while he watched the woman he had once idolized, then hated, and now pitied being tortured, he could still hear his instructor’s voice in his head. Then it occurred to him that he really was hearing that voice. After all, Dr. Director herself led the torture-resistance training.
The voice had told him to fetch a glass of water. Good. Kim needed it, and he was wondering if Betty would ever give her mercy. But as he watched the redhead spit out the liquid and refuse to accept Dr. Director’s “gift,” he suddenly remembered why he had idolized her all those years ago. It cut him like a knife. Here he had wanted her to suffer for “betraying” him, when she had done nothing to deserve that fate. He had seen her as perfect and expected things to go just as easily for him. But now he realized that she was only human, and that he wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy, which Kim Possible never was.
No, his true enemy is the woman who destroyed everything Kim held dear—Dr. Elizabeth Director. The woman who had overseen his training class, and who had handpicked him for this assignment. He had admired Dr. Director the same way he had idolized Kim, but now he realized that the woman he had once worshipped was truly insane. She knew he held a certain degree of animosity towards Kim, and she played him like a fiddle. Now he feels true empathy for the redhead. When Dr. Director pushed Kim so far that the younger woman’s heart stopped, Harrison threw up from the sight and smell of the blood that sprayed around the room. He couldn’t handle the intensity, and simply watching this was killing him.
As Agent Harrison watched Dr. Director destroy everything he had aspired to be, he felt a strong urge to end this madness himself. But he couldn’t. Not by himself. If Kim Possible, the girl who could do anything, couldn’t withstand the torture, what hope was there for him? He sold his soul to the devil long ago, and now he must pay the price. As he watched Kim’s lifeless body hang from the manacles, he thought to himself, ‘Good. At least now you won’t be around for the apocalypse. Have fun in heaven.’
Then a miracle happened. She was alive! Barely, though, and her bloodcurdling scream made him cover his ears. Still, she was alive! Then it occurred to him who brought Kim back, and the joy faded. The torment was far from over, for either of them.
He wished he could say something; do something, but his body refused to move. He had orders to follow, and he knew that he would never win. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. Kim was forced to battle her inner demons, and he was forced to watch. When it was finally over, he didn’t know who had suffered more: the woman whom he had idolized—or him.
The answer to that question was obvious. Of course she had suffered more! She was hooked up to a torture device for crying out loud! But Agent Harrison came a close second. Even though she probably didn’t even know it, Kim Possible had just turned his life around. He personally volunteered to take Kim back to her cell.
Before he brought her back, however, she needed to be bathed. He took great care in that task, using the brush instead of his hands wherever possible, cleaning her gently as though she was his daughter, even though they were exactly the same age. He didn’t look at her sexually anyway; she was a lesbian. Everybody knew that by now. Not that she was coherent enough to protest anyway. When he finished washing her, he helped to dress her in a set of fresh clothes, then carried her back to her room where he gently laid her down in her bed and carefully inserted the IV needle so that she could recover. Before he left, he gently brushed the hair out of her eyes, taking one last look at her angelic face.
That face had inspired him to join GJ. Not the actual features—though she was attractive—but rather the life and vivacity contained in those emerald eyes that danced with excitement whenever she was on a mission. He had seen these eyes once, up close and personal, before Dr. Director’s nefarious scheme hid them behind an emotionless mask. There was so much inspiration to be found in those eyes. It was as if she could peer straight into a person’s soul. After saying a silent prayer asking that she be allowed to escape somehow, Agent Harrison left the cell.
Agent Harrison sighs as the memory disappears and he focuses on the task at hand: investigating a strange noise that he heard just outside the door that leads to the cell. Tensing up nervously, he lifts a panel to reveal a piece of Plexiglas that allows him to see on the other side of the door. At first he expects to see Dr. Director or something, but that would have made no sense since she would have announced her visit. Then he looks for an intruder. After all, anybody besides Dr. Director, the other guard and himself is not allowed in here. But he sees nobody. Nothing but an empty hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, he closes the panel and turns his attention back to the cell he is guarding.
There it is again! He hears a metallic, “Clank!” and looks through the panel once again. “What the hell?” he mutters to himself. Weird. Maybe if he opened the door…
No. Dr. Director has specifically ordered him not to open the door for anybody except her. Still, he isn’t too fond of the one-eyed woman nowadays. Should he open the door? That would be violating a direct order. But it would only be for a second. Besides, it’s not like he would be opening the door to let anybody in. And some part of him needs to know. Eventually his curiosity gets the better of him, and he enters the five-digit code to open the door.
The metal door hisses open, and Agent Harrison sticks his head out into the empty hall. Still nothing. What was that noise he heard then? Before he can react, a figure drops down in front of him and knocks him off balance. The last thing he sees is a green glowing hand headed straight for his face.
One Month Earlier
“Come on, Shego, you can do it! Just think of Kimmie!”
“I-I can’t! I can do a lot of things, but this… I just can’t!”
“Shego, you’re never going to get your strength back if you don’t do this! Now do it! Do it for Kimmie!”
“Rrgh, fine! You drive a hard bargain, Doc.”
“I do my best.”
With a snort and an indignant glare, the green woman picked up the stale hospital food with her fork and forced it into her mouth, muttering to herself under her breath. After chewing for what seemed like an eternity, she suppressed her gag reflex long enough to allow the food to slip down her throat. She wiped her tongue on her pale green hospital gown, trying to get rid of the taste. Shego washed it all down with a tall glass of water, which thankfully wasn’t tap. It was the only redeeming part of a hospital meal.
“See what I mean, Shego? It’s not that bad.”
“I thought you said you agreed with me that it tasted bad.” Shego was a bit confused that the woman who had been so easy-going earlier had suddenly turned into some sort of coach, pushing her to do things she never thought she would. Just like… Kimmie. ‘Now I see why she’s so bossy. At least Kimmie’s mom gives me encouragement afterwards. But I still feel like I’m being treated like a child.’ She paused as she was hit with an epiphany. ‘Doy! Maybe because I’ve been actinglike one? She’s right; I do need to eat. But still, you’d think a place like this could spring for some decent food.’
Dr. Possible flashed her a warm smile. “I did, didn’t I?” she said as she reached bent down to pick up two Tupperware containers from a bag that she had smuggled in.
Shego blinked in confusion. “Oh, so now you’re gonna eat your good food in front of me? Kill me now.” She didn’t think it was fair that doctors got to bring food from home.
Dr. Possible just chuckled. “Don’t worry, Shego, this one’s for you.” She handed the green woman a plastic container filled with chili, making certain the door was shut and the blinds were closed. Shego held the bowl close to her face and inhaled. The essence of spices, meat, beans and onions filled her nostrils, and her mouth started to water. It had been so long since she’d had a decent meal. Shego eyed the chili with lust. How good it must taste. She was about to consume it with only her mouth when Dr. Possible handed her a spoon. “Be civilized,” she reminded her.
Shego snorted. “Hey, after a week of this crummy hospital food, you should be glad I don’t knock you unconscious and eat you.”
“But then who would take care of you?” Dr. Possible reminded her, smiling warmly.
“Please, Doc, the only thing keeping me in here is the fact that I’m too famished to move. I’ve already got most of my powers back.”
“And you had to be moved to this room after you nearly burned down the old one when you tried to use them,” Dr. Possible retorted. “You may be fully charged, but your control center took so much damage that you’ve lost fine control. You have to relearn everything.”
“At least I’ve got it to the point where it doesn’t go off accidentally,” Shego commented after swallowing a mouthful of chili. “That whole thing with my old room was because of a nightmare.”
Dr. Possible sighed. “Yes, I remember that. Are you ready to tell me what it’s about? As a neurosurgeon I’m also required to know a little bit about psychology, not to mention the fact that I’ve raised three kids. Let me help you, Shego.”
Shego narrowed her eyes and ate her chili in silence, avoiding eye contact with Dr. Possible. She wasn’t ready to tell anybody what the dream was about. Finally she sighed. “As great as you’ve been, Doc, I don’t think anybody can help me with this one. I’ve gotta work through this sort of stuff on my own. That’s how I’ve always done it.”
“I don’t believe that,” Dr. Possible challenged. “Every time I see you, you’re always with someone else. Drew, your brothers… from what Kimmie tells me you hardly get a moment to yourself. I don’t think that’s on accident, either.”
“What are you trying to say?” Shego interrupted.
“You need people, Shego. I think you like taking care of other people more than yourself.”
Shego snickered. “Yeah, like I want to help anybody else out? What did they ever do for me?”
“Nothing, but deep down that doesn’t matter to you, does it?” Dr. Possible flung the words right back at her, causing Shego’s hand, which was currently gripping a spoonful of hot chili, to hover in mid-air. “Why else would you stick with Drew for so long? Why did you agree to help your brothers out when they lost their powers? Why did you help Kimmie when she couldn’t save herself?” The last sentence caused Shego to drop the spoon completely. Neither woman looked away from each others’ eyes as the utensil hit the floor with a metallic “clink.”
“I…” Shego began, unable to complete the sentence.
“You like to feel needed, Shego,” Dr. Possible said in answer to her own questions. “You didn’t become a criminal because your brothers were annoying, you did it because they didn’t want your help. Drew would have been out of the villain game a long time ago if it wasn’t for you, Shego, and you knew that. You liked it. It was the main reason you stayed with him. And when your brothers finally realized they needed your help, you were a little reluctant, but the experience was somewhat fulfilling for you, wasn’t it?”
“I—” Shego opened her mouth to answer, but Dr. Possible cut her off.
“And when you saw what Betty had done to Kimmie, you decided to save her. And you liked the fact that she needed you, didn’t you?”
“YES!” Shego erupted. “Yes, I loved the fact that for once she was willing to let me tell her what to do because I knew better than she did! Even though she fought me night and day she’d still agree with me eventually! She’s never done that before, and I liked it!” She dipped her head and sighed. “I liked it so much I didn’t see that making her dependent on me would lead her right into Betty’s trap.”
Dr. Possible reached over and took Shego’s hand into her own, setting the chili on a tray. “It’s not your fault, Shego,” she reassured her. “Is that what the dream was about?”
The pale woman nodded her head. She spoke up in a cracked voice, holding back a flood of tears. “In the dream, it’s dark. I can’t see. I can hear everything, but there’s no light. I look around for… something, but I can’t find whatever it is I’m looking for. Then… I see a light poke through. There’s fog on the ground, so I figure I must be in some sort of swamp since it’s kind of wet, too. I look down and… It’s not water. It’s blood. Fresh blood. So fresh it’s still boiling. That’s what’s causing the fog.” She stopped.
Dr. Possible nodded in solemn understanding. “And what else do you see?”
Shego took in a deep sigh. “I look around and… I see bodies. I don’t recognize most of them, but I know what dead people look like. The blood is still pouring out of them, so whoever killed ‘em must be nearby. I keep on searching, stepping around the bodies, breathing through my mouth because it smells so horrible. I start recognizing faces. My brothers. Dr. Drakken. Stoppable. But I knew they were dead already. Then I think, ‘Am I in hell?’ I call out, but no one answers me. I still don’t know what I’m looking for. Then… I find her.”
Shego closed her eyes and whispered, “Kimmie.” A solitary tear made its way down her cheek, rolling from her eye into the corner of her mouth. A sniffle broke the silence and she found the courage to speak again. “She has her back turned to me. I can’t see her face yet. But I know that red hair anywhere. I call out her name, but there’s no answer. I walk closer to her and call her name again, a little louder this time. Still no answer. I’m getting a little frustrated. I race up to her, and I almost trip over one of the bodies. I look down at the face and…”
“It’s Kimmie. Which makes no sense, because she’s standing right in front of me, isn’t she? I look back and forth between them for a few seconds, then I get up and walk over to the one who has her back turned to me. I reach out slowly and put my hand on her shoulder, trying to get her attention. She turns around and…” She choked on a tear.
“And what, Shego?”
“She’s wearing a goddamn eye patch!” Shego despaired. “Her hair suddenly gets shorter, and her eyes—eye, rather—it’s just so… dead. I don’t feel like I’m looking at a human being. I take my hand off of her and I stumble backwards, tripping over the other Kimmie. She looks down at me with that stiff face. She looks just like a machine, Doc! Anyway, she raises a gun at me, but I don’t move. I can, but… I don’t want to. It’s like I want her to kill me. Put me out of my misery. If she’s gone, then what reason do I have to live, right? I stare into the barrel of the gun, thinking to myself that this isn’t Kimmie. Kimmie never used guns. Then I realize it really isn’t Kimmie. She gave in to Betty, and she got turned into some sort of monster. All that’s left of her is the corpse I’m sitting on. She cocks the hammer on the gun and I think, ‘Good. Do it. Don’t make me hate you anymore.’ Then… I wake up.”
Dr. Possible nodded silently as Shego gripped her hand tighter. “How often do you have this dream?”
“Every night for the past week,” Shego answered, sliding her hand from Dr. Possible’s grasp. She looked up at the older woman with tear-filled green eyes. “I’m afraid to go to sleep. It seems so real, like I’m experiencing it for the first time. I forget that it’s just a dream. You ever had that? Where you think it’s real until you wake up, and you don’t really feel like you’re doing the actions, just watching? That’s what it feels like. I watch myself do it every night, but I can never take control. That should tip me off that it’s a dream, but I can’t wake up. I don’t know it’s a dream until I wake up in a cold sweat. And then I can’t get back to sleep. Is someone out there trying to tell me something?”
“I remember when my children used to have nightmares,” Dr. Possible said in response. “Kimmie would wake up in the middle of the night and come to our bed, asking if she could sleep with us for the night. I remember how she wouldn’t stop asking until she got her way. I’d slide over and James would do the same, and Kimmie would squeeze in between us. Then we’d both put our arms around her and comfort her until she fell asleep. That continued until she was 8, around the same time she got that little stuffed Pandaroo. She loved that little guy.”
Shego blinked. What did that have to do with anything? It reminded her of how she would be talking to Hego about something and he would go off on a tangent because he either couldn’t think of something to say, or he could but didn’t want to. She could never figure out why he did that. Nor was she able to understand what she suddenly felt the urge to ask. “Could you stay with me tonight? Keep me company?” She looked Dr. Possible straight in the eyes, practically begging.
Anne took Shego’s trembling hands into her own and nodded. “I’m off tonight, but I’ll be here as long as you need me, Shego. I promise. I’ll have to call James first and tell him I won’t be coming home, but you can rest assured that I’ll be here, watching over you.” The words penetrated Shego’s exterior and went straight to her heart, where they produced a feeling of warmth as the blood in her body was suddenly reenergized. She let out a grateful sigh.
Dr. Possible smiled. “Anytime.” She got up to leave. Shego was still holding on to her hand.
Anne sat back down. “Yes?”
“You promise you’ll be here tonight?”
“I promise. But I have to take care of my other patients first. You rest for now.”
Shego nodded and closed her eyes. “Okay.”
Dr. Possible walked over to the door and put her hand on the light switch. “Sweet dreams, Shego,” she whispered before clicking off the light.
Shego nestled into her pillow and was soon asleep. She didn’t dream of blood or dead bodies or killer clones. She dreamed about lying on a hammock with Kim, whispering sweet nothings into her ear on a quiet afternoon. It was a good dream.
But deep down, she knew that it was just the calm before the storm. She would have another nightmare tonight; she knew it. Hopefully Dr. Possible’s presence would be enough to stop her from completely losing her mind.
Gloved hands take great care with the lock, as a tiny slip up means the difference between life and death. If an alarm were to go off, she is as good as dead. Sweat pools on her forehead, and with great care, an arm lifts up and wipes it off. The salty liquid beads on the latex, smearing across her pale skin as a forearm drags across the top of her face. With that distraction out of the way, she goes back to work.
Locks like this are tricky. It has so many fail-safes and hair triggers that a lesser thief would have already been caught. But those other thieves do not have the ability to create an electromagnetic field with stellar plasma that shorts out most of the wires, or at least delays them. She has five minutes to open the door or the alarm will go off and she will fail.
She considers blasting the door open, but that would doubtless set off a dozen alarms and send the entire base after her. That would mean failure, and, even worse, death. Not just for her either; for the person she is trying to save. She can’t have that. The only way through that door is to pick the lock.
Casting aside her extraneous thoughts, she concentrates all her attention on the task in front of her. This is what she does best. No technology, no fancy lockpick, just good old-fashioned hacking. If she can manage to cut all the wires without tripping the alarms, the door should open, or at least be unprotected. Using her lit finger like a laser, she traces around the plastic console and removes it from the wall, careful not to sever any wires that don’t need to be cut yet. From what the computer geek has told her, this part is just like disarming a bomb; every wire must be cut in sequence or everything will blow up.
It suddenly occurs to her that she really is disarming a bomb. Nerdlinger has told her that if she attempts to burst in there without disabling the charge, a contained nuclear explosion will vaporize everything in the enormous chamber, whose walls are thick enough to keep it from destroying the rest of the base. When this was explained to her earlier, it put an end to her thoughts of dragging the rest of the bastards down with her if she fails. She recalls what she has gone over in the briefing about which wires she is supposed to cut. Staring at the panel in front of her, she sees three wires, interlaced in a spider-like pattern. This is going to be tricky. No plasma here. If she cuts one of the other wires accidentally, she will literally cease to exist.
‘Okay, so I cut the wires in the order: yellow, red, green. Huh. That’s funny. Stoppable’s hair was yellow. Kimmie’s red. I’m green. Talk about signs being everywhere. Focus, Shego! Okay, I’ve got about 3 minutes left. Alright, now, where are those bolt cutters?’ Her hand inches slowly towards her leg pouch so as not to upset the motion detectors. Pulling out the item she needs, she slowly brings it up towards the wires. ‘Okay, so I have to cut the yellow one first. Or was it red? Shit! Of all the times to forget! Don’t second guess yourself, Shego. Go with your gut. My gut says yellow. Okay, here goes.’
The cutter edges closer to the yellow wire, the first. ‘Okay, now am I allowed to touch the other wires? It’ll be a hell of a lot trickier. I’m not about to test that. Am I sure it’s yellow first? Should I call Nerdlinger?’ She decides against it, as there are most likely microphones in the area. She has to do this on her own. No problem; that’s how she prefers it. ‘Okay, think of Kimmie. She wouldn’t want you to doubt yourself like this. Even if I die, at least I’ll know I tried.’
Drawing in a gasp of air, she restrains it in her lungs as the cutter approaches the yellow wire. She positions the blades so that they will not touch the other wires. She clamps her eyes shut and says a silent prayer before squeezing just hard enough to cut the wire. She waits for the world to disappear in a flash of light. Nothing. She breathes a sigh of relief.
‘Okay, that was easy. Now which one do I need to snip next? Oh, right, red! Doy! Okay, cut for mama.’ She relieves her death grip on the cutters to allow them to open just enough to fit around the wire. She finds the confidence to keep her eyes open, but she still holds her breath as she squeezes the grip. The wire snips harmlessly and the result is the same as before. No explosion.
‘Whoever’s up there, I owe you one. I’m lucky Dr. D and Stoppable are up there to vouch for me, or I’d probably be in hell right now. Okay, one more to go.’ She glances down at the watch she has brought with her. She has two minutes. Deciding against a dramatic last-second save, she simply reaches out as before and places the cutter on the wire. Taking a deep breath, she squeezes. And waits. Nothing happens. She wipes her forehead and breathes a sigh of relief.
‘Let’s not do that again. Now, how did he say to open the door? Is there another alarm I have to disable? What if it’s another bomb? I would have come all this way for nothing. Well, maybe Kimmie and I will be together in the afterlife. Or maybe not. What if I go to hell and she goes to heaven? That’d be a waste. Focus, Shego! Now is not the time to be thinking about that! Okay, what did Nerdlinger say about the door? Something about it being resistant to anything except my plasma. Well, that’s good news. But what if there’s a failsafe? He never said anything about it. But what if he didn’t know? That’s silly. The guy knows everything that’s going on around here. Then again, he didn’t know Kimmie was being tortured until I told him. So what if he’s wrong? I can’t turn back now. Am I just gonna stand here all day? I’ve only got a minute left. Aw, fuck it.’
Igniting her hands, she traces a human-size hole in the solid titanium door. She laughs silently to herself at how stupid whoever designed this door is. Titanium is supposed to be one of the most heat-resistant metals in existence, but they had failed to count on plasma. They should have made a ray shield. She remembers what happened the time Stoppable got all of Dr. Drakken’s evil. It is the first time she ever remembers being scared, apart from her rather brutal childhood. She has gotten over that, but to have such an innocent soul as Ron Stoppable threaten her with death to keep her in line… she hopes she never has to see his dark side again. It was just creepy.
She is brought back to the present by the smoldering hunk of metal that collapses inwards, falling on the immaculate white floor. Taking special care to avoid the molten metal, she closes her eyes makes her way into the room. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. Then she sees her.
The girl is lying on her bed, hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. She looks to be asleep. Padded soles make no sound as they tiptoe along the floor. The girl does not notice this. A long black glove is removed, and a pale hand strokes her cheek. She twitches, but she still appears to be unaware of the other woman’s presence. The hand is removed, and a pair of dark lips press against hers for but a brief moment and an unconscious smile forms on the girl’s face. Her body stirs ever so slightly, and a gasp is made as the older woman steps back, almost afraid to wake her.
The older woman stands there for untold minutes, watching the younger woman’s chest rise and fall in a slow, constant rhythm. In, out. In, out. It mesmerizes the older woman, who can’t seem to find it in her to wake this sleeping angel. What a treasure she has found. And what a crime it is to keep such a radiant spirit locked up in a cage. She knows. The same has happened to her, but not like this.
Peeling back the sheets, the intruder observes that bruises are everywhere on the younger woman’s body. Teeth grind together and a growl escapes her lips. ‘That bitch.’ She looks back to the scarred visage of her lover and finds herself unable to stay angry. ‘God, she looks so beautiful when she’s asleep. I could watch her all day. Goddamn, why’d I have to be stupid enough to drag you into this? You don’t deserve any of this. God, Kimmie, what’d they do to you?’ A tear rolls down her cheek and her lungs bring forth a heavy sigh. Her head hangs in despair and she kneels down next to the younger woman, assuming the praying position as she rests her forehead against her thumbs.
‘What have I done? I never meant for you to get hurt, Kimmie. Please God, don’t let her be paralyzed. Don’t let there be any permanent damage. Give me something to salvage from this junk heap. All I ask is that you give me something to hold onto. Don’t let any more harm come to her. I’m begging you. Please… for her sake, not mine. I don’t care what happens to me. But don’t let her die. Please let her be alright.’
Her prayers are answered when she hears a stir come from the woman beside her. Emerald eyes crack open, and a pair of chapped lips split apart. Looking up, she finds herself staring straight into the eyes of her lover. Neither says anything for the moment. The redhead does not appear to think this is real. That, or she has just lost the strength to speak, which wouldn’t be a surprise given what the older woman saw in her vision. Finally, the redhead breaks the silence. Her voice is hoarse; barely a whisper. But it is music to the older woman’s ears. The lips crack open and speak a name.
Three Weeks Ago
She couldn’t breathe. Water consumed her head, shards of ice biting at her as her face was thrust into the trough. A cruel hand twisted her hair into a knot, threatening to scalp her as she was pulled from the ice cold water. Desperate for air, she gasped, only to find her face in the icy water once more. The funny thing was that she actually preferred the moments when she was submerged. At least when she was underwater, everything was silent. Every time she surfaced, she would hear that voice. That callous, unfeeling voice that could change to a lion’s roar in an instant if she provoked it enough. She hated that voice.
It was a voice that had tormented her for the past week, though it felt like much longer. Listening to that voice was worse torture than anything else that had been tried on her. No matter how hard she tried, the voice could not be tuned out. It wasn’t the sound of the voice; it was what the voice said. The voice belittled her, taunted her, mocked her, ridiculed her, humiliated her and filled her with rage. The voice targeted her heart, her soul, everything she held dear. The voice confused her, frustrated her, twisted her words and tried to crush her spirit. She had never truly hated anyone before. But that changed the day she heard that voice.
This hatred was extended to the one who possessed this inhuman voice, the source of her torment. The woman had hid the voice well until she was ready to unleash it. What a bitch. And now that voice would greet her again as she was pulled once more from the ice water. She wished that she could stay under until she passed out or died. Anything to escape that voice.
“How does that feel, Kimberly? Refreshing?” Goddamn it. So much for escaping the voice. Her lips were so numb she couldn’t even form a retort. She couldn’t even feel the cuts on her face from the sharp ice that cut like glass. But she knew from the blood dripping down into her eyes that it was bad. A cold shudder was the only response she was able to give.
“Pathetic.” Damn that voice! Always thinking it was right. She didn’t even notice her numbness, the chill of the ice cold water dripping down on her naked skin, the burn of the ropes that held her arms and legs together; the voice was everywhere. It was everything. The voice was in her head, all around her. It rattled around her consciousness, interrupting her thoughts and rendering her incapable of focusing on anything else. All she heard was the voice. She would do anything to make that voice stop. But she would not submit. She could do almost anything, but that did not include giving up. Fortunately, she didn’t have to.
“I think we’re done here.” The voice’s tone was bored. Her captor had apparently lost interest. “Take her back to her cell and bandage up those wounds. Don’t want to damage that pretty face.” The voice was mocking her now. A hand caressed her face, and she flinched at the unwelcome contact. She heard a laugh. If there was one thing she hated more than the voice it was that laugh. For all the evil laughs she had encountered, this was easily the most odious. Damn that laugh.
As she was led back to her cell, the girl took comfort in the fact that she wouldn’t have to listen to that voice anymore today. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. She prayed that it would be long enough.
“Shego?” She hears herself speak the name of her lover. It feels so surreal. She watches as her hand reaches out to touch the green phantom, certain that she is dreaming. Her fingers meet resistance as they press upon the older woman’s cheek. She caresses that soft face, intent on enjoying this fantasy while it lasts. There’s no way this can be real. But still, it can’t hurt to ask. “Are you… are you real?” Her voice is a faint whisper, hoarse and drained. She’s barely holding on.
The woman in green smiles. “Yeah, Pumpkin, I’m real.” This is enough for the redhead, who leaps from her bed into her lover’s arms with a renewed sense of energy.
“Shego!” she cries, smothering her rescuer with kisses. Tears of joy stream down her cheeks, liberated from their prison. Her body trembles with excitement as she clings to her lover like a parasite, never wanting to let go. “I missed you so much,” she blubbers, burying her lips in the older woman’s neck, making her way up to those soft black lips. God how she missed this. It feels so good.
Through it all, Shego holds her, shelters her, protects her. “I know, Pumpkin. I missed you too,” she whispers, only to be cut off by another kiss. Kim presses her to the floor, caressing her, holding her, stroking her deeply.
“I wanna do it right here,” she confesses, diving right back in. Shego separates after a moment.
“Geez, Pumpkin, can’t you wait till we’re out of here?”
Kim shakes her head. “It’s been over a month, Sheeg. I need you.” She begins to nibble at the older woman’s ear. “Oh God, I need you.” She says it hungrily, like an animal.
“I need you too, Pumpkin,” Shego begins before she’s cut off by a kiss. She breaks. “But can’t this wait till later?”
“No,” Kim insists, breathing heavily as she buries her face in that long black hair, losing herself in the fragrance. “I’ve waited too long already.” She kisses Shego again. “Besides, I want at least one good memory of this place.” With that, she guides the older woman’s hands to her white cotton shirt, which is quickly torn off to reveal the soft flesh underneath. Upon seeing her scars, Shego stops.
“Oh my God, Kim, what did she do to you?” she asks, horrified.
“Later,” Kim insists. “Right now we fuck.”
“I can live with that,” Shego replies, still sounding mildly concerned. But Kim doesn’t detect this. Her desire makes her blind to everything. All that matters is the woman underneath her; the woman she loves. The woman she so desperately wants to make love to.
Standing up, Kim grabs Shego by the hands and leads her to the bed. She guides those hands down to her soft cotton pants. “Isn’t this fun?” she whispers into her lover’s ear. She doesn’t care about the fact that this will end up getting them caught. She just wants one last fuck before she dies.
“You bet your ass it is,” Shego growls as she slides the pants down Kim’s legs, crouching and following them to the floor. Her face stops in front of Kim’s sex, and she grabs a firm hold of the younger woman’s buttocks, drawing the redhead closer to herself. She parts Kim’s lower lips with her sharp cherry tongue, eliciting a groan from the younger woman. Kim grabs a handful of her lover’s hair and pulls her deeper, telling her to lick faster. A shriek of ecstasy tears itself from Kim’s mouth as an orgasm rushes through her body.
“Oh Sh-Shego!” she breathes, her emerald pupils disappearing into the back of her head as her eyelids flutter blissfully. She grabs the older woman by the hair and pulls her up, catching her mouth and wiping the remains of herself from Shego’s lips. Her hands trace a line up the pale woman’s sides, stopping at her perfectly formed breasts and giving a tight squeeze. Shego’s breath stutters, and Kim undoes the clasp that holds the green and black suit together.
Peeling the suit from her lover’s body, Kim falls back supine on the bed, compelling Shego to follow. Her hands explore the green woman’s back, leaving barely noticeable impressions as they near their goal. Finding it, the fingers reach inside, prying her open. Shego’s sudden gasp tells her that it is working. She silences the pale woman with her mouth, covering Shego’s lips with her own.
“I love you,” she breathes, burying her face in Shego’s neck, nibbling softly. Kim feels the green woman’s hand trace down to her hips, moving closer to where she wants her to be.
“Ready?” Shego pants, seeking approval.
Kim quivers. “God yes.”
With that, Shego fills Kim with her long, pale fingers, bringing untold joy to the redhead. The younger woman arches her spine, pushing her lover deeper. “Oh yes, oh Shego, oh, I-I love you! I love you!” She screams it, not caring who hears. A feeling like none she has experienced before shoots through her body, filling her with warmth. Tears of joy flow from her eyes. She keeps telling Shego how much she loves her, how she never wants it to stop. Oh God, she wishes this feeling could last forever. No pain, no suffering, no psychopathic women with eye patches, just her and Shego. The orgasms become her entire world. Her existence narrows down to a basic, animal feeling. She wishes it would never end.
And yet it does. Just as suddenly it came, the feeling vanishes into nothingness. Where she was once full, she is now empty. She reaches out for something to hold onto, drawing Shego into a death grip, never wanting to let go. Shego is her entire world. She won’t lose her again. She can’t lose her again. Tears pour down her cheeks as she resolves never to be alone again. She buries her face in the older woman’s neck, soaking her hair with her tears. “I love you, Shego,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”
One Month Ago
“If you are.”
“You promise you won’t leave?”
“I promise, Shego. I’ll be here the whole night.”
“Will I what, Shego?”
“I feel kind of silly for asking.”
“Trust me, whatever it is, it’s not silly. Ask me.”
“Will you hold my hand?”
She extended her hand and allowed her doctor to squeeze it firmly, reminding herself that she’d best keep her plasma powers reigned in while she was asleep. It had taken years for her to master, and she nearly burned down the hospital when she’d had to relearn it. It was a tenuous control at best; she could slip at any moment. She had to be careful.
But at the same time, she had to sleep. Besides, Dr. Possible could just let go, not to mention they were in a hospital. There was a burn center not too far from here. Still, Shego would prefer not to hurt Kim’s mother if she could help it. Damn it, this was not helping her sleep! She needed to quiet her mind. Somehow, the security provided by Dr. Possible’s presence was enough to allow her to relax somewhat. She closed her eyes and let the darkness claim her.
She is standing in a field, looking out over the horizon that terminates in a curve that would plummet her over the edge of the earth if she ever got that far. She starts to walk, not of her own volition, but rather she feels herself take several calm steps, rustling the tall stalks. She has no control, but she also has no fear. She observes the green meadow that lies beyond the cornfield and yearns to step out of the tall stalks that obscure everything and simply be free to roam in the infinite expanse.
But she cannot go there. Her feet do not follow her orders. She wants go play in the meadow! Can’t they understand that? Six year old girls are supposed to play in the meadow! Wait, six year old girls? She looks down and notices that she’s clothed in a pale green Sunday dress, the nicest one she owns. Why is she wearing it in a cornfield? She convinces herself that it does not matter.
Another girl, red-haired and fair skinned, is picking flowers in the meadow. Shego commands her feet to take her there. If the grass looked inviting before, she now has even more reason. A friend! Someone to share it all with! But she stands still. She cannot move. Corn stalks like prison bars cage her in, concealing her from the redhead who looks so happy prancing around the grass in the bright sun.
She opens her mouth, but finds that she cannot speak. She tries to call out to the girl beyond the cornfield, but it is futile. The girl cannot hear her. She cannot hear herself. She wills herself to push the stalks out of the way in the hopes that the redhead will see her and rescue her from her apparent immobility, but her arms are like lead. They will not move. Just like her feet, they refuse to listen to her. They won’t even twitch.
Powerless. That’s what she is. Freedom is right within her grasp and yet she can’t reach out. Her body won’t let her. The thick cornfield obscures her from the view of the beautiful redhead, who frolics freely, oblivious to the suffering of the one who wishes to join her. Her desire to go and play with the other girl supercedes the hesitance of her body and she breaks through the barrier that keeps her from her princess. Through sheer force of will, she manages to move her leg.
She did it! She took the first step! Now for the next. Her foot moves and displaces a small amount of dirt as it settles on the ground. With this new freedom, Shego takes off running towards the redhead, out of the dark cornfield. Her salvation is close at hand.
But what’s this? The girl starts to run away. “Come back!” she manages to shout. It echoes across the empty landscape, but it does not reach the ears of the girl. Cursing herself, Shego begins to run. “Wait up! Wait for me!” It’s like screaming into a cave. The words reverberate everywhere and come back at her full force, pushing her back, away from the girl. But she is more stubborn than that. She runs faster. But she’s getting no closer. The redhead is fast, and she doesn’t even seem to notice the little black-haired girl who has just built up the courage to escape her own self-doubt. Why won’t she wait?
‘Because she doesn’t know you’re there,’ she reminds herself. With grim determination, she makes her strides longer and pumps her arms faster. But she’s getting tired. Her legs are encased in lava and her chest is heaving. But she won’t give up. Not yet. Not when the object of her salvation is still in her sights.
But the girl is getting farther away—a small dot of red among the infinite expanse of green. Shego looks back to the cornfield, where she can hide and take refuge; where she doesn’t have to risk anything on such silly whims as chasing a girl she doesn’t even know. But it is dark back there. And out here, there is light; out here she can be free. But she has nobody with which to share it.
The darkness beckons her, bringing forth twin tentacles that wrap around her ankles and begin to pull her back. On instinct, she ignites her hand, only to find that her powers are not yet strong enough to cut through the thick weed. She’s only six! The coils wrap tighter, sweeping her off her feet and dragging her back to the safety of the cornfield. She claws at the ground, desperate for some sort of handhold. But as the clumps of grass gather in her hands, she realizes the futility of her situation.
But she won’t give up! Not now! Not ever! She’s not going down without a fight!
The darkness swallows her whole, ignoring her pleas for freedom, placing her back where no one can find her; no one can hurt her. She feels angry, but at the same time safe. How foolish that was, thinking she could go play with a girl that she doesn’t even know. No, it’s better if she just stays here, alone, with no one to bother her.
She will stay in her prison for eternity. No one will ever find her out here. Her bones will be buried under the corn stalks and ground by a harvester. A sad fate to resign oneself to, yes, but here she knows the score. This is her territory. Her world. Her existence. None dare venture inside.
Suddenly, she hears a rustling behind her. What now? She stands up and turns around slowly. There, in front of her, is the girl she was chasing earlier. Shego stands in shock for a moment.
“Hi, I’m Kim. What’s your name?” The girl’s voice is sweet as honey, music to Shego’s ears. Kim holds a basket filled with flowers, flowers that Shego saw her pick earlier. She finds the courage to speak.
“Hi, Shego,” Kim returns cheerily. “Do you want to play?”
Shego nods, a smile on her face. Kim extends her hand. “Let’s go, then,” the redhead says.
Shego takes Kim’s hand in hers, and together they exit the cornfield into the sunny meadow and freedom. How wonderful this is! Just moments ago she was lost in her depression, buried deep down in a prison of her own device. A prison designed not to keep her in, but to keep others out. Despite this fact, this girl has dared to venture where none have gone before. Kim has saved Shego from the darkness, and Shego is eternally grateful. Paradise is hers.
But good things never last.
“Kimberly Anne Possible!”
Uh-oh. All three names. Her new friend will soon be taken away. She can’t let that happen. “C’mon!” she shouts, tugging on Kim’s hand and bringing her back into the cornfield.
Kim follows, dropping her flower basket. It lays there, forgotten, as Shego drags Kim off to safety. Kim doesn’t seem to care. In fact, she actually runs ahead, as intent on escaping the source of the voice as Shego is, maybe even more.
“Kimberly! You dropped your basket!” A tall figure enters the cornfield, and the two girls run faster. Shego pauses to look back, expecting to see a red-haired figure with blue eyes. Instead, she sees a short-haired brunette with… one eye.
“Run!” she whispers to the redhead, who takes off at full speed. Shego follows. Kim is in front, and Shego can’t see beyond the billows of that adorable pink dress. Her breaths come in short pants, and the sharp leaves of the corn occasionally nick at her dress. It would be easier to run if she weren’t in something so constricting. She looks back again. The cyclops is getting closer. Her pursuer’s head sticks out over the cornrows, where she can no doubt see the trail left by Kim and Shego. But they’re almost out of the cornfield. She turns back to face in front of her, only to find Kim has stopped. She stops as well.
There, in front of them, is their pursuer. She has closed the gap impossibly fast, and now stands in front of them with crossed arms and a stern expression. “Kimberly Anne Possible, where have you been?”
“P-picking flowers,” the little redhead explains.
“Yes, well you dropped your flower basket,” the cyclops counters, holding it up for all to see. “You were hanging out with the freak girl, weren’t you?”
‘Freak girl? Lady, I’ll… oh, wait, I’m six. Fuck.’
“I-I wasn’t,” Kim insists. “I was just saying hi.”
“Don’t even speak to her,” the figure reprimands. “You don’t know where she’s been.”
“B-but—” Kim protests, her lower lip quivering.
“No buts, young lady,” the brunette interrupts. “Inside, now.” She reaches down and grabs Kim faster than the redhead can scurry away.
“No!” the redhead shrieks. “I won’t go back there! Don’t make me go back there! Shego, help me!”
“Kim!” Her new friend is in danger. She leaps onto the cyclops’ leg and begins to kick, punch and bite with all her strength, but the one-eyed woman kicks her off with ease, and she feels her dress become entangled in the sharp leaves of the cornstalks. Now she really can’t move. “Kim!” she cries desperately.
“Shego!” Kim batters furiously at the woman, beseeching her captor to release her. But even Shego knows it’s a futile effort. “Shego! Save me!”
“Kim!” Shego screams, tears welling up in her eyes. Her new friend is being carried away and there’s nothing she can do. She kicks, screams, and struggles against her entanglement, but she only grows more trapped. Kim is rapidly disappearing, and Shego is failing. “Kim!”
“Shego!” the redhead screams one last time before disappearing in the distance, out of earshot.
Damn it! She’s failed! Kim is gone! All that for nothing! Fuck Betty Director!
She needs to go after her! Tearing at her dress, she rips off the frills and drops to the ground. She starts to run in Kim’s direction. But something’s happening. Is she getting shorter?
No! She’s sinking! The earth swallows her legs, trapping her in this one spot, carrying her down to a deep, dark place, darker than the cornfield. It’s a place she’s visited once before. A place she never wants to visit again.
“Let go of me!” she screams, but it falls on deaf ears. The earth cannot hear her. It doesn’t care that the girl she loves has just been taken away from her. Every step she tries to take, something restrains her. She’s now up to her chest in mud. She struggles harder, acting purely on instinct. She goes into a panic, sinking deeper. Her neck disappears beneath the all-consuming quicksand. She lets out a shrill scream before her face is swallowed.
Darkness. Void. She sees nothing. Hears nothing. Nothing exists. She’s slogging through liquid of some sort, or at least she thinks so. At any rate, she feels like she’s wading through molasses. She can’t see in front of her. But she doesn’t feel like a six year old girl anymore.
Experimentally, she lights her hands. Everything around her is suddenly illuminated. She looks down. The water is gone, replaced with solid earth. She can move freely now. “Hello?” she calls out, not expecting an answer save for the echoes that resound in the infinite chamber.
“Shego.” The voice is all around her, yet it comes from nowhere. It is deafening, yet it is a whisper. The voice consumes her, speaking to every fiber of her being and vibrating every cell in her body. It reverberates around her, echoing repeatedly. Then, silence.
“Who said that?” she screams into the abyss.
“Wake up, Shego.”
“Doy! What do you think I’m trying to do? I can’t wake up!”
“Shego, wake up.” The voice grows more insistent, resonating around her. It sounds so familiar.
“I don’t want to!” she screams. “I don’t wanna have to face reality! I’d rather be stuck down here than have to face what’s up there!”
“Shego, get up.” The voice is now even more firm, stripping away every layer of defense Shego has. She looks at her hand and sees it start to waver, as though behind a curtain of steam.
Suddenly it shatters, flying everywhere like green confetti. But she feels no pain. “No,” she protests. “No, I wanna stay asleep! I don’t wanna wake up!” Her pleas go ignored as she begins to dematerialize, starting with her limbs and moving rapidly towards the center. She sees herself being consumed alive, bits and pieces carried off by some undetected wind, disappearing into the blackness.
A white light appears above her, and Shego sees a figure silhouetted against the blinding ray. “Shego, it’s time to get up.”
Finished with her arms and legs, the blackness begins to consume the rest of her body, slowly eating away at her torso until only her neck remains. Before she disappears, she manages to let loose one last scream.
And woke up in her bed, shivering. The details of the dream were already slipping through her newly awake neurons like sand through fingers. A cold sweat covered her panic-stricken form. Breaths came in pants, and her eyes betrayed a feeling of pure terror.
“Shego, calm down!” The green woman turned to face the source of the voice, whom she recognized as Dr. Possible. Remembering where she was, she brought herself together and began to breathe normally.
“Was it the same nightmare?” Dr. Possible asked after a moment.
Shego shook her head.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Shego shook her head again.
“Do you want me to stay?”
And so Dr. Possible sat with Shego for the rest of the night, comforting the shell-shocked woman. Shego refused to talk about her dream, but Anne knew that the green woman would open up with time.
But time was the one thing they didn’t have.
Two Weeks Ago
“Agent Load, report to my office, please.”
The request wasn’t all that unusual. Dr. Director often called agents to her office for little more than a status report on their projects. For Wade, however, this posed a problem. His project was missing. And he had let her escape. Hell, he had forced her to leave. He needed to hide it well. Taking a deep breath, Wade replied, “On my way, sir.”
Wade suddenly felt as though he was being called to the Principal’s office. You never knew whether you were in trouble or not. And they never told you what it was about until it was too late to make a run for it. Wade was lucky to have skipped most of school due to his genius, but from what he’d heard, this is what he was sure all those kids felt like when they were dragged out of class to go see the most intimidating person in the school. But this was even worse. After all, despite the occasional rumors that floated around amongst mischievous schoolchildren, the Principal never actually tortured anybody. But he had seen Dr. Director nearly break Kim with his own two eyes. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
The young supergenius’ heart thudded in his chest as he neared Dr. Director’s office. What was she going to do? Kill him? He wouldn’t be surprised. He was technically a traitor. Well, at the very least a mole. He was still loyal to everything else Global Justice stood for, or used to stand for. Would she torture him as well? That was a scary thought. He’d seen what she could do. Wade’s breaths became increasingly panicked, and a pool of sweat gathered at the base of his spine. After what seemed like an eternity, he arrived at the door. His hand reached out, and he found himself unable to perform the simple task of pressing a series of buttons on a keypad. It wasn’t Dr. Director that scared him. It was the fact that he didn’t know exactly how much she knew.
Did she know that he had sprung Shego? Did she know that he had snuck into Kim’s cell late at night just to see if she was alive? Or was she just calling him in for a status report, unaware of the fact that he was undermining her entire operation? He decided to speak only when spoken to, answering yes or no until he found out exactly what he was being accused of. No use admitting to a crime she didn’t know about yet, especially one that would get him marked a traitor and likely killed. Taking a deep breath, he entered the code for the door and stepped in cautiously.
“You wanted to see me?” It was a question rather than a statement, and a very nervous one at that. Dr. Director had the advantage from the start.
“Sit down, please,” she ordered. Wade promptly complied, a drum sounding in his chest, breaths picking up speed and sweat bursting from his forehead. They sat in silence for untold minutes, each for different reasons. Wade was afraid to speak, and he suspected that Dr. Director was letting him stew. She really was evil. Finally, she broke the silence. “Status report, please.”
Shit! What was he going to do? Tell her the truth? No, that would get him killed. Lie and tell her everything was going fine? No, she would see right through that. Wade was pretty sure Betty could smell fear. She would ask for details, and he’d have to wrack his brains out trying to think of a plausible explanation as to why he hadn’t given her a report in two weeks. He decided to buy himself a little time. “Status report on what?” he asked meekly.
Dr. Director continued to stare at him impassively. No answer came from her lips. Was she staring in disbelief? Had she seen right through his attempt to buy himself time? Oh God, she was still letting him stew in his own guilt, wasn’t she? Fuck! What now? The silence had gone on too long, but Wade found himself unable to speak.
“Status report on the prisoner you were supposed to be keeping watch on,” she replied. “She’s been down there a little over two weeks. Has she recovered?”
How should he answer that? Did she want details? She didn’t ask for them. But what if it was implied? He certainly didn’t have them, and he couldn’t just BS his way through it since she understood the science of the whole thing even better than he did. He reminded himself that the best lies are simple ones. “Yes,” he responded after a moment. Dr. Director nodded, seeming to accept his answer. Wade breathed an inward sigh of relief. Bullet dodged.
“That’s good,” she commented. “Have her powers returned?”
Probably. That wasn’t a good enough answer. He needed to give a definite answer. He adopted the same strategy as before. “Yes.”
“I see,” the one-eyed woman remarked.
Silence again. It was the worst kind of torture. Wade was a rather strong man. He could handle pain. But he couldn’t handle guilt. He thought back to those times he had tried to withhold information from Kim. By simply glaring into the Kimmunicator screen and elongating the first vowel of his name, she was able to sweat anything out of him. But this was even worse.
“You may go now,” the one-eyed woman spoke after what seemed like an eternity. She never looked up from her paperwork.
Wade smiled nervously and got up to leave, heart still pounding in his chest. Apparently she had bought it. He exited through the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
Once the supergenius left, Dr. Director turned to face the view screen that descended from the ceiling. She pressed a button on the remote she was carrying. A security tape began to play.
“Kim, I love you.” The voice was quiet, having been barely detected by the audio. But it betrayed everything. She hit the fast forward button.
“I was jealous of you and Shego. I thought, ‘Hell, if she can hook up with her arch-nemesis, there might be hope for me after all.’” Dr. Director chuckled. Traitors rebelled for the silliest of reasons. She hit fast forward again.
“But, if it’s any consolation, I’ve got Shego someplace safe. With someone who loves you and will understand your new relationship.” Bingo. She paused the recording.
Betty pressed a button on her desk. The face of Will Du popped up on another screen. “Yes, sir?”
“Special Agent Load has outlived his purpose and now poses a threat to our operation,” Dr. Director said in the most emotionless of tones. “Kill him.”
“Yes sir.” The screen went blank, and Betty scrolled back through the tape.
“Kim, I love you.”
‘I never would have guessed,’ Dr. Director thought to herself. ‘Too bad you won’t live to see her reaction to it. That would have been fun.’
Wade’s heart finally calmed down when he got back to his lab. He needed to see Kim again. Changing out of his normal uniform into his custom made supersuit, he prepared to go invisible and sneak into her cell. It was a risk, he knew, but he had to get her out of here soon before Dr. Director came too close to figuring out what had happened. His finger hovered over the button that would make him disappear.
He heard something behind him. Something that sounded like footsteps. He turned around slowly, his finger still on the button on his waist.
The figure before him was a tall, thin Asian man with jet black hair styled in a bowl cut. Over his eyes he wore a set of goggles with red lenses. The man was clothed in a black and red supersuit much like Wade’s own, except it was pure black with glowing red streaks arranged in a tribal pattern. In his right hand the man held a scythe.
“Agent Du,” Wade greeted.
“Agent Load,” Will deadpanned.
“I don’t suppose you’re gonna let me leave,” the supergenius surmised. Will simply stood motionless. “Can’t catch what you can’t see,” Wade smirked, triggering his active camouflage. The agent still did not move. Wade charged towards will like a bull, drawing his fist back in an attempt to crush the much smaller man.
Will may not have possessed Wade’s giant stature, but he was far faster. Just as Wade was preparing to strike, Will spun out of the way with lightning speed, almost as though he saw Wade coming. The supergenius stopped in his tracks and turned around to face the agent.
“I’m guessing those are infared goggles,” he said, to which Will nodded. Shutting off his active camouflage, Wade dropped into a fighting stance again. It was a cross between heavyweight boxer and professional wrestler. His style favored lots of power moves, attacks that could knock out his opponent in but a few shots. “Bring it on,” he challenged before once again charging blindly at the man with the scythe.
Moving with inhuman speed, Will stepped to the side, raising his right leg to catch Wade right across the chest. The supergenius staggered backwards, clearly not expecting such a move. The lanky agent followed this up by raising the same leg into the air and spinning clockwise, planting his heel on the back of Wade’s neck and bringing the supergenius crashing to the floor. Twirling his scythe above his head, he brought the butt down towards Wade, who barely rolled out of the way in time.
Wade grunted and tightened his fists, shifting his weight to his hips and standing firm. He let out a low growl through gritted teeth.
Will seemed to ignore him, twirling the scythe in a display that was designed to intimidate as well as distract. Wade snorted, then gasped when Will’s boot suddenly found its way into his midsection, knocking him back several feet. He let out a frustrated grunt.
‘He’s too fast. I don’t have the element of surprise because he can see me regardless. Every time I try to attack, he counters. Every time I wait for him to attack he gets through. I’ve gotta come up with a good strategy or I’m as good as dead.’
Fortunately, Wade had grown up playing so many video games that adjusting his strategy mid-battle was second nature to him by now. ‘If he wants to go for speed, then I’ll just try to overwhelm him with power,’ he decided, twisting a dial on his wrist that caused his supersuit to glow a bright blue. Wade smirked.
Will did not even seem to react to the gesture, instead focusing on his primary directive. He fought emotionlessly, with a singular goal. He advanced again, spinning the scythe in the same manner as before. His intent was to deliver another strike to Wade’s gut.
He never got the chance.
Reaching out with his left arm, Wade grabbed the scythe in his massive hand. He didn’t even respond when Will’s foot impacted his stomach. To the agent, it felt like kicking a brick wall. Wade’s right fist was already cocked, and he drove it into the much smaller agent’s midsection with devastating force. Will chose to let go of the scythe rather than separate his shoulder and flew across the room, slamming into the opposite wall.
Coughing up blood, the momentarily bested Agent Du looked up just in time to see his opponent break the scythe against his knee. “Lesson for today,” Wade announced. “Never try the same trick twice. People aren’t training robots.”
“Let me guess,” Will deadpanned. “Your suit enhances your durability and turns you into some sort of juggernaut.”
“You guess correctly,” Wade smirked. “I’ve had a lot of free time on my hands.”
“Well it’s about to get put to the test,” Will returned, closing the distance between them with a massive leap, hands glowing green with stolen glow energy. Wade barely raised his arms in time to block. Not giving him any room to breathe, Will slashed again, this time at Wade’s rock-hard midsection. The claws bounced off harmlessly, surprising even Wade. The supergenius used Will’s shock to his advantage and planted a massive fist square in the smaller agent’s gut. Will coughed up blood. But, to Wade’s surprise, he smiled.
“Play time’s over,” he announced before flash-kicking Wade right in the jaw and performing a one-handed back handspring, landing on his feet. Wade staggered backwards, stunned. Will used this to his advantage and launched into a flurry of punches and kicks, most of which impacted harmlessly against the larger man’s heavily armored suit. But a quick glance at his arm told Wade that his shields were rapidly deteriorating due to the high energy nature of Will’s attacks. He needed to separate and recoup.
Will jumped into the air and planted two kicks on Wade’s forearm. Landing on one foot, the smaller agent pivoted and attempted to kick Wade in the midsection once more. But Wade had grown wary of this tactic and simply grabbed his opponent’s foot, spinning him and causing Will to land hard on his back. Like a silverback gorilla, Wade raised both arms into the air and brought the undersides of his fists barreling towards Will’s supine form. Will was faster, though, and back-somersaulted out of the way. The shockwave from the impact rippled against the concrete, terminating in the opposite wall.
Wasting no time, Wade turned to face the smaller agent and drove his fists into the ground in an alternating fashion, producing a number of shockwaves that traveled in a straight line and tossed anything that happened to be in the way like a rag doll. Will performed a series of front and back handsprings, dodging the sheer kinetic energy. A few shockwaves impacted the morgue drawers, and the bodies of the brutally murdered slipped out, horrified faces of a dead audience to the intensifying conflict.
Will flipped and dodged with ease, causing Wade to grow increasingly frustrated. “You always were annoying,” the supergenius grunted as he abandoned the shockwave tactic and punched a hole in the wall next to where Will stood. “Like a fly that needs to be swatted.” The shatter of concrete told him that he had missed his target once again.
“At least I worked hard to get here,” Will countered, lighting up his fists and slashing. “You just rode Kim’s coattails.”
Wade blocked the strike easily. “Kim doesn’t have coattails,” he reminded the agent, bringing up his leg to block a mid-range kick. “And I did plenty of stuff on my own. Dr. Director was proud to recruit me.” He lunged at Will, only to miss again as the metal panel on the wall dented under the sheer impact.
“Don’t you get it?” Will taunted, spinning around and landing a kick in Wade’s shoulder, which he used as leverage to dodge the larger man’s next strike. “You were always a pawn. You never used your talents for yourself. Someone else was always taking advantage of you. First Kim, now Betty.”
“Kim would never use me,” Wade insisted as he swung heftily with a right hook, which Will easily ducked. “We were a team.”
“Kim and Ron were a team,” Will corrected as he came up from his crouch with a swift uppercut, staggering Wade backwards. “You were just the third wheel.”
Wade’s features tightened, and he grabbed Will by the throat, hoisting the smaller agent up in the air. “I was part of the team,” he snarled. “I called in her rides, tracked down the villains, and got all the vital information she needed. Kim wouldn’t have been able to do anything if it wasn’t for me.”
“Do you really think that mattered to her?” Will choked, unwilling to shut up. He hooked his left leg around the inside of Wade’s elbow and pushed down, causing the supergenius to let go. Gripping his throat, he continued. “She took you for granted,” he stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She always knew you had a crush on her. That’s why she always knew you’d be there for her. She played you like a fiddle.”
“Not true!” Wade yelled as he swung his fist, missing Will entirely and burying his hand several inches into the wall, causing cracks to run all the way up to the ceiling.
Will, meanwhile, had moved behind Wade, and, using the strength granted to him by the supersuit, kicked the much larger man into the wall. “Oh, it is true,” he said solemnly. “Who was the first person she blamed after Ron died? After Shego, of course.”
Wiping the blood away from his nose, Wade turned his concrete-powder covered face towards Will, who stood there with an arrogant smirk on his face. “It was a normal response,” he insisted, grasping at straws. “People experiencing grief often lash out at those closest to them. I have a PhD in Psychology, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Will chuckled. “Ah yes, your record-setting education. Graduated high school and college in only eight months. And yet you chose to waste it on performing autopsies. Rather fitting for you, actually. You never were much of a socialite. Tell me, how does it feel to have your only friend in the entire world blame you for the death of the boy you always envied for doing what you were too afraid to? I bet it hurt.”
“Not as much as you’re gonna be hurting!” Wade growled, springing to his feet and charging blindly at Will, allowing the smaller man to anger him to the point where he lost all focus.
Will simply smirked and leapt in the air, performing a front flip just as Wade passed under him and planted both feet firmly in the giant’s upper back, turning his momentum against him and slamming the supergenius into the opposite wall. “Anger will only get you so far, Agent Load,” Will taunted. “This is why you never made it to field agent.”
‘He’s right,’ Wade reluctantly admitted to himself. ‘You’re letting him distract you. Time to turn his own strategy against him.’ He stood to his feet with a newfound sense of purpose. “At least I was smart enough to listen to Kim. You nearly botched that joint mission with her, saying she was an ‘amateur.’ She bailed your ass out.”
The smirk left Will’s face. “She was an amateur. I was the professional. But now that she’s under our control, she’s no longer an amateur. She’s a pawn, just like you.”
“I don’t know,” Wade said as he and Will began to circle each other. “Sounds to me like Betty’s got a new favorite.”
Will stopped circling. His face tightened. “What did you say?”
Now it was Wade’s turn to smirk. “You heard me. When Betty recruited Kim, you weren’t her number one agent anymore. You were just another lackey. You think I was being used? Please. Betty doesn’t give a fuck about any of us. We’re all pawns to her. I think you’re jealous.”
“Me? Jealous of that… that amateur?” Will said with a look of shock on his face. “You wish. I’m still better than her. And I’m better than you!” With that, he lunged at Wade, fists ignited. The supergenius was ready, however, and delivered a crushing blow to Will’s stomach, sending the smaller agent flying across the room.
“You sure about that?” Wade taunted, examining his fist. “Because it seems to me like you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.” Will growled as he stood to his feet with great effort. “How does it feel, knowing that you’re not the teacher’s pet anymore? I bet that hurts.”
“She was just an amateur!” Will roared. “You’re all amateurs!” He lit the stolen comet energy up to full power and leapt high in the air, intending to take out Wade once and for all.
“And you’re a hack of a professional,” Wade countered as he grabbed Will by the throat, then slammed him hard onto the concrete, knocking out the smaller agent instantly.
With Will Du defeated, Wade finally let himself relax. He glanced at the power readings on his suit. After such a battle, his power was too low to chance rescuing Kim. He sighed. This was going to require some serious planning. Dr. Director obviously knew he was a traitor by now. His only option was to escape. He eyed the launch tubes.
“I’ll be back. You can count on it,” he declared to Will’s unconscious body before spitting on it and heading towards the launch tubes and freedom. In a softer tone, he added, “And I won’t let anything happen to Kim. I guarantee it.”
“Mmm, that was nice.” The redhead snuggles closer to her bedmate’s naked form, finding warmth in her embrace. All that matters is Shego. They are the only two people in their world. Nothing else matters right now. For now, it’s just them.
But reality is a bitch.
“Kim, we really need to get going,” Shego whispers, snapping the redhead out of her daze. Kim gasps and realizes where she is.
“Shit!” she screams, tumbling to the floor and dragging the thin sheets with her.
Shego nonchalantly stands up and puts on her catsuit. Kim lets out a tiny whimper. “You okay, Kimmie?” Shego asks with genuine concern.
“No,” Kim moans from the floor. “I think I hurt something.”
“You mean someone hurt you,” Shego corrects as she crouches next to the redhead’s battered form. “And it was your idea to have sex here. I mean, couldn’t we have waited until we were out of here?”
Kim shakes her head. “We’re not going to make it anyway. I wanted to have one last moment with you before both of us died.”
Shego scowls. “That doesn’t sound like something the Kimmie I know would say. What happened to the girl who could do anything? The woman I fell in love with? The woman who wouldn’t give up no matter what? What happened to her?”
“She’s dead,” comes a voice from the door. Shego knows who it is, but she looks up anyway.
“You,” the green woman snarls.
“Yes, me,” Betty chuckles. “Me, me, me. It always comes back to me, doesn’t it? Whenever people have a problem, they always seem to blame it on either me or the organization I represent. It can get rather tiring.”
“Maybe you should get some sleep,” Shego snarls.
“Oh, I don’t mind it a bit,” Dr. Director replies with a hollow smile. “It lets me know I’ve been doing my job.”
“I thought attention was the one thing secret agencies didn’t want,” Shego points out. “And the people hate you, just for the record.”
“I know they hate me,” the one-eyed woman says simply. “They hate you, too, you know. We’re not all that different, you and I.”
Shego scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, you told the same thing to Kimmie here. Sorry, Doc, but we couldn’t be any more different. And before you start any of your big speeches, let me just say that you can talk until you’re as blue as Drakken, but it still won’t accomplish a goddamn thing.”
Dr. Director smiles. “You’re learning,” she says approvingly. “I’ll spare you the lecture this time and just get down to business. Starting,” She points to Kim, “with her.”
“You won’t take her again,” Shego growls, holding her Princess protectively.
“Oh, but that’s where you’re mistaken, Shego,” Dr. Director replies with that smug tone that suggests that she knows something her adversary doesn’t. “I already have.”
“Right,” Shego scoffs. “Last I checked, she’s in my arms, not yours.”
“But her soul belongs to me,” the one-eyed woman replies. “Look how she lies there, naked, unwilling to move. She’s lost the will to escape. That behavior is taught, Shego. Your ‘Princess’ is completely and utterly mine.”
“Not while I’m around,” Shego growls, determined not to let Kim be taken ever again. “If you want her, you’re gonna have to go through me.”
Dr. Director smiles. “Very well.” She snaps her fingers, bringing forth four guards. “Kill her, and bring Miss Possible to me,” she orders.
“What’s the matter, Betty?” Shego teases. Dr. Director blanches at the use of her first name. “Afraid to face me yourself?”
“No,” Dr. Director insists. “Bored.”
“That’s gotta be the most pathetic excuse I’ve ever heard,” Shego says smugly, lighting up her hands as she eyes the guards, who have activated their powers. On the far left is a mountain of a man, who has naturally received the blue glow. To his right, a smaller agent demonstrates his shrinking power. The third agent is about the same size as the second, and has been granted the red power. Finally, a female agent ignites her hands to match Shego’s own glow. Shego narrows her eyes dangerously at the woman.
Dr. Director smiles. “Shego, I’d like you to meet an example of the many squads that I’ve assigned. This is Team Alpha. Their names are, from left to right, Agent Hulk,” She points to the man with the blue glow. “Agent Mouse,” She indicates the agent with the purple glow, who waves. “Agent Walsh,” she continues, pointing to the agent with the red glow. “And last but not least, Agent Sherman.” The woman with the green glow cracks a devilish smile.
“So you want me to face your ‘dream team?’” Shego deadpans. “Why are villains always so proud of their henchman? I mean, I know I deserved it, but these idiots look like they stepped out of some weird knockoff of Power Rangers.”
Agent Hulk’s face tightens. “You won’t be smilin’ so much when we’re done with you, missy,” he growls.
“‘Missy?’” Shego laughs. “Geez, at least your boss provides good banter. You do remind me of Hego.”
“We should have just killed her,” Agent Sherman says angrily to Dr. Director, who barely registers the remark. “Why did we keep her alive?”
“Not to sound ungrateful,” Shego says sarcastically, “But why exactly am I alive?”
Betty chuckles. “You amuse me, Shego. I didn’t kill you because you were worth more alive. A test of sorts for Agent Load. I wanted to see if he could be trusted. Thanks to you, he failed miserably, and I’m minus one saboteur. Of course, now you’ve outlived your purpose, and you must die.” She signals her agents to move in on the green woman.
“Oh, so that’s how we’re gonna play, huh?” Shego says as she eyes her four opponents like prey. “Okay, I’m game!” She flares up her hands and leaps at Agent Hulk. The giant tries to grab her, but Shego is too fast, landing a solid kick on the agent’s face and using it as a springboard to launch herself halfway across the cell. Agent Hulk barely registers the hit, turning around and charging blindly. The other agents follow his lead.
Shego stands with her hand on her hip, smug and defiant. She smirks as Agent Hulk draws back his fist, ready to pummel her. At the last second, she grabs the fist and, in a classic judo move, flips him over her head and through the Plexiglas, knocking the giant out cold. ‘One down,’ she tallies in her mind.
“Who’s next?” she challenges. Agent Mouse charges at her, expecting her to punch high, enabling him to easily shrink and duck the attack. But she stands firm. Confused, the agent continues his charge. He readies himself for the coming blow, but Shego never even budges. He doesn’t realize until he’s two feet away from the green woman that this is a trap. He suddenly finds himself sideways on the floor, clutching his scrotum. With a swift kick to the jaw, he is knocked unconscious. ‘Two,’ Shego counts silently.
“How ‘bout you, clonie?” Shego taunts, noting the fear etched on Agent Walsh’s face. Her smile is devilish. Sensing that the agent will not repeat the same mistake as his comrades, Shego decides to try a ranged attack and hits him square in the chest with a plasma bolt, sending him crashing into the opposite wall. ‘That’s three,’ she counts to herself. ‘I love it when they hesitate.’
Shego turns to face Agent Sherman. “Please, you think I didn’t learn how to defeat my brothers growing up? And I know my powers better than anybody, copycat,” she says icily. “You’d better run home, little girl.” The look of confidence on Agent Sherman’s face that was there at the start of the fight has disappeared, a trembling visage in its place. Shego can sense that her opponent is afraid. Good.
Steeling herself, Agent Sherman leaps high into the air, spinning with her arms outstretched, hands ignited. Shego easily dodges the windmill maneuver, responding with a slash of her own that catches Agent Sherman across her back, leaving a deep gash that is quickly concealed by the regenerating fabric. Agent Sherman howls in pain and drops to the floor, where a kick across the face knocks her unconscious as well. Shego turns to Dr. Director and smirks.
“You can give your agents the powers of a god, and they’ll still be the same incompetent fools I’ve always beaten,” Shego announces smugly. “You should train ‘em better.”
Dr. Director chuckles. “That was just a prototype team. Still in training. It appears I have quite a bit more work to do before they’re ready for battle.” She narrows her eye at Shego. “However, I’m still good enough to beat you.”
Shego drops into a fighting stance. “Bring it on, bitch.”
Two Weeks Ago
“Are you ready to talk, Shego?”
The green woman shook her head. Anne sighed.
“Shego, you haven’t said more than a few words to me in over two weeks. I’m not even going to bother asking you if everything’s alright because I know it’s not. What happened in your dream?”
‘Damn, are all Possibles this stubborn? I. Don’t. Want. To. Tell. You. Get it?’
“Shego, you’re going to have to talk about it sooner or later. You can’t keep it all bottled up. Kim needs you.”
‘Of course you don’t. How could you? You can’t read my mind.’
Shego, I know your dream is troubling you, but I’m here to help you. Please, Shego, talk to me.” Dr. Possible had sat down and was staring into the green eyes of her daughter’s lover. Shego looked away.
“I guess I was wrong about you, then,” Anne continued. “You don’t really love my daughter at all.”
Instead of snapping, Shego looked at her doctor calmly and spoke. “Do you really mean that, or are you just using reverse psychology to try and get me to talk?”
Anne smiled. “The second one. I don’t doubt for a second that you love my daughter. I just said that to get your attention. What’s bothering you, Shego?”
The green woman chuckled bitterly. “What’s bothering me? You really wanna know?” Anne nodded. “What’s bothering me is that two whole weeks have gone by and I’m still no closer to getting Kimmie back. My powers have recovered, sure, but for some reason I’m still here, unable to reach out and save her.”
Dr. Possible said nothing as Shego looked like she was about to continue.
“That’s what my dream was about,” Shego expressed solemnly, not looking at the doctor. “My complete and utter inability to do the one thing that would bring me a shred of happiness. And the reason I can’t do it is because I’m too scared.” She sighed.
Anne still said nothing, allowing Shego to discover this on her own.
“Every time I do reach out, something comes along to snatch it away,” Shego said coldly, as though she had given in to her depression. “I may not be the happiest person in the world keeping to myself, but at least that way other people don’t get hurt. Kimmie would have never gotten into this situation if I hadn’t reached out.”
Now Dr. Possible decided it was time to speak. “You’re right about that last part,” she said. “But not in the way you seem to have meant it. Kimmie would have stayed an empty shell if it weren’t for you, Shego. You came along and broke the spell Betty had her under. You saved her.”
“And look where it got me,” Shego countered. “No good deed goes unpunished, Doc. That’s what I’ve always believed. The universe just wants to fuck with my head. I can’t get too close to people or they either end up dying or they get captured and brainwashed. I’m cursed, Doc. I’ve got too much bad Karma associated with me because of the things I’ve done. I’m a bad influence on everyone I meet.”
Anne nodded solemnly. “That’s one way to look at it. But think of it this way: did you force Kim to be with you?”
Shego narrowed her eyes at the woman. “Don’t even start, Doc. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not gonna work.”
“Just answer the question.”
“No, I didn’t,” Shego growled. “Not even after I tried to force her to leave. Now I see where she gets her stubbornness.”
Anne smiled. “Like mother like daughter.” Her face turned serious. “So answer me, Shego. If it was her choice to be with you, were you really responsible?”
Shego sighed. “It’s not that simple,” she replied, dipping her head. “I gave in. I didn’t push hard enough to keep her away from me. There are people after me, Doc, and I dragged Kimmie into it. I let the fact that someone loved me blind me to the fact that it could never last with as many enemies as I have.”
“Kim knew that,” Dr. Possible insisted. I know Kimmie. She isn’t naïve enough not to know that there are dangers involved in what both of you do. It was her choice to make.”
“So it was her fault?” Shego countered. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I never said it was her fault,” Anne pointed out. “I simply said it wasn’t yours.”
“But you used Kimmie to prove it,” Shego replied.
The red-haired doctor sighed in frustration and looked Shego square in the eyes. “A lot of people come to me expecting me to make them feel better. They think that just because I’m a doctor, I have a miracle cure for everything. I’m an Attending Physician as well as a Brain Surgeon, Shego. I have a lot of patients. But do you know what I say to the ones who expect me to magically make them feel better?”
Shego just stared.
“I tell them I’m a doctor, not a pharmacist. My job is to heal by fixing or removing the source of the pain, not sugarcoating everything so the patient doesn’t feel it. Yes, we do have pain killers, sedatives and anesthesia, but those are just to keep the patient going long enough for me to figure out what’s wrong.”
Shego remained silent.
“Did you know that sometimes, to fix a broken bone, we have to break it again?” Dr. Possible continued. “Sometimes the only way to deal with your problems is to face them head on. That includes doing something to rescue my daughter instead of sitting here feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Yeah, well in case you didn’t notice, I don’t even remember how I got here!” Shego reminded Dr. Possible. “I have no idea where GJ is, or how to get there.”
“I do.” The voice came from the door. Both women turned their heads and saw a large black man appear seemingly out of midair. His clothes were torn, and he looked as though he’d just been in a fight with a grizzly—and lost. He was leaning against the doorframe.
“Wade?” Dr. Possible balked. “How did you get in here?”
“Betty found out I helped Shego to escape,” the supergenius panted. “I barely made it over here.”
“Wade, stay right there,” Dr. Possible commanded. “Nurse!”
A woman in pink scrubs came running into the room. “Yes, Dr. Possible?”
“Get this young man admitted right away and get his wounds treated in the ER,” she ordered, indicating Wade.
“I’m fine, really,” Wade insisted in a suddenly weaker voice as he clutched his chest. “Just a couple of flesh wounds.”
“No you’re not,” Dr. Possible replied. “You look like you’re nursing a couple broken ribs, and from the sound of your voice you may have punctured a lung.” She turned to the nurse. “Get him down to the ER, stat!”
“Right this way, sir,” the nurse said, but Wade refused to move. “Shego, I need to tell you something.”
“It can wait,” Dr. Possible insisted. “You could be bleeding internally.”
“No!” Shego screamed. “What do you need to tell me?”
“Wade, please!” Anne urged. “Get your wounds treated and then you can talk to Shego!”
“What did you need to tell me?” Shego yelled at the young supergenius, who was rapidly losing the ability to stand.
“K-Kim’s… in trouble,” he managed.
“Doy, we knew that already! Shego screamed. “What else?”
“Shego, he’s having trouble breathing!” Dr. Possible shouted. “Wait until after he’s stable!”
“No,” Wade continued. “I might not make it.” He turned to Shego. “After Betty saw that I was helping Kim, she swore that she’d do even worse things to her, just to get back at me—and you.”
“What kind of things?” Shego questioned.
“Shego, Wade, please!” Dr. Possible was practically begging by now. “Wait until after we get him stabilized!”
Wade ignored her. “I-I don’t know. But the way she said it didn’t sound good. We have to sa—” He collapsed, unconscious.
“Damn it!” Dr. Possible shouted, pressing the crash button, which brought every available doctor and nurse in the area running. She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut off Wade’s shirt. “Starting CPR!”
Sorry to cut it there, but I need enough material for the final chapter. Shego’s fight with Betty, as well as Wade’s fate, will be determined in the next chapter. Please read and review. No flames, please.