Disclaimer: I don't own Kim Possible.

This takes place after Shego's Mother. If people want me to continue this, I will make this a full story. If I get just one request, I will continue this.

She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a slim frame. A cute smile that showed off her perfect teeth, and pink lips lightly glossed. Fair skin and a delicate frame with perfect, but small, assets on her chest. The perfect nose; it didn't point up or point down. Small hands, but adorable nonetheless. She looked innocent and carefree, but perhaps a bit shy. Her voice, when she spoke, was angelic and lacked the harshness it once held, or even the uniqueness it once had.

She wore a beautiful light blue dress that came down to the floor, covering what was most likely perfect, cute feet. Her nails on her hands were painted a bluish silver to match her dress, and she wore diamond earrings and necklace that he had given her when she had been dying. Tears fell down pale cheeks. A hand was brought into a small fist. She drew her arm back, and then pushed it forward with force, colliding with the mirror.

It shattered, and she brought her hand to her chest in pain, staining her pretty blue dress with her own red blood. She forgot that she didn't heal quickly anymore. She remembered her hand would scar, but she didn't regret punching her own reflection. She hated it. Oh, how she hated it. She couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror anymore. She was disgusted with herself, and she wished things could go back to the way they were.

She didn't want to be like this, pretty and perfect. She wanted to be fierce, sexy, and desirable. She wanted to be strong and invincible, not delicate and protected. She wanted to do the protecting. But she just couldn't. Her muscles had atrophied over the past year in which she was hospitalized. Plus, this body was useless; it was normal.

Sitting on the ground, she picked up the glass. It showed her disgusting reflection, and she remembered what her mother had told her when she was little. See that wrist of yours? Cut it with this knife. It makes pain go away. The piece of the mirror was sharp. She remembered how she'd cut herself for years. Shakily, she took it to her wrist and pressed it, and dragged it across. She watched the blood come to the surface of her skin. It wasn't enough. Deeper, she decided. She had to cut deeper. Blood pooled around the glass before she pulled it away. Another cut, another slash, more fluid escaping her flesh.

She'd rather look tough with her scars to show she can be something other than this perfectly pretty girl. She lifted up her arm and wished it was green. She wished the emerald glow would come to her fingertips at will. But they wouldn't. She was beginning to wish that she had died with her brothers. She wished her powers killed her. But of course, she survived. Her body had been strong enough to fight off the foreign radiation. "Shego!" Funny, she hadn't even heard the door open. Her senses weren't hypersensitive anymore, or perhaps, she was so engrossed in watching her own blood drip onto the light green plush carpet she hadn't noticed. "Don't do this," he said as he rushed into her bathroom to grab a towel to press against her wrist. "Please, don't do this, Shego."

No, she told herself, she wasn't Shego anymore. She was Noelle Marie Gordon, the timid girl who had looked so innocent, but really wasn't. She didn't feel like Shego. She felt empty, but disgusting. She hated who she was and she couldn't figure out how to love herself all over again. Shego loved herself, but Noelle didn't. Noelle hated herself, and that was that.

Along with green plasma, heightened senses, and speed healing, perhaps her powers gave her confidence as well as the ability to love who she saw in the mirror. "I'm not Shego," she finally said, but it came out as a whisper. She wanted to snap, but Noelle Gordon was too gentle, too weak, and too perfect to use that tone of voice. Noelle Gordon was too broken.

Drakken cleaned her wound carefully. She flinched when he used the alcohol to clean it out. Shego never flinched. "Yes you are," he said to her. "You're very much Shego."

"I'm not," she whimpered and cursed at herself mentally for it.

"Yes you are. You just look different," Drakken said as he began to wrap her wrist. She looked at the shard of mirror in her hand and threw it to the ground, but it just made Drakken pick up another one, forcing her to look at her reflection. "Tell me what you see."

"This is stupid," she said weakly.

"Maybe so, but tell me," he urged. She found that she had been dragged onto his lap, or had she gotten there herself? Being small (smaller than Kim Possible) annoyed her.

"I see perfection," she said.

"Then why all this? Surely that's not all you see. Look deeper," he said to her.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes, my face…" she trailed. "My perfect pale, pretty face."

"Don't you see anything else?"

"No."

"I see Shego," Drakken said to her. "I see a strong, beautiful, independent woman who's just a little confused at the moment. But you're still Shego." She tried to see the green eyes she once had, and even the dark, raven locks. She couldn't and she didn't understand how Drakken could see Shego!

"How can you see Shego when she's dead?" she said quietly. "I'm just Noelle now."

"You were Noelle when you were born. You were Shego when you got your powers. But now, you're someone better. You're a combination of the two," he tried this approach to see if she'd listen to it and believe it. Shego looked at her reflection, but she couldn't see Shego. She just saw Noelle. "You have Noelle's beautiful features and that innocent look. But I can see that mentally you are still Shego."

"This isn't how I acted before. I'm weak, like Noelle."

"Ah, but I do remember a time where you were insecure as Shego when I first met you. Do I need to bring up the drugs and that whole lifestyle?" She shuddered at the thought, remembering how she had lived solely based on the purpose of getting drugs as well as the high that came with them. She remembered the awful sex and the rude boys she had associated with, and she began to wonder if he was right.

"I don't like this," she sighed. "Just look how ridiculous I'm acting."

"You'll be okay. You just have to learn how to love yourself again."

"I can't believe you're putting up with me for this long," she admitted. "My own mother just stopped showing up at the hospital. She couldn't even stick around for two months."

"Well, I'm sticking around and you won't be able to get rid of me," he said to her. "Maybe you should try something new. Since the doctors said you can't fight as hard as you once did, maybe you could get into a new hobby or something." She leaned against him, unable to sit up anymore. The smell of her drying blood was making her feel sick and weak. She hated feeling weak. Wait, why was she feeling weak? She wasn't feeling right and it wasn't because of the blood loss, she knew. Drakken could tell she wasn't feeling right, so he just simply held her. Without panicking, he grabbed his cellphone and called an ambulance. She felt cold so she started shivering.

"I'm sorry I ruined your night," she said as she gripped the jacket to his suit tightly. She gasped for breath; perhaps this battle with her powers wasn't over. Maybe she was destined to die just like her brothers had. Maybe it was karma and she shouldn't have complained about how blonde her hair was or how pretty her face had become. She was getting colder and colder, and she couldn't hear Dr. Drakken's voice as she watched his mouth frantically saying something. She weakly smiled at him, put a hand on his cheek, and finally passed out before the pain would set in.