This is a non-cannon spinoff from DC2030's Redeeming Tendencies. I wrote this and the next chapter one lonely day a few weeks ago, after finishing that story. If you are not familiar with DC2030 and his KND: Universe, leave now and read it. You will not be disappointed. This first one brings to the spotlight my infamous OC from A Darker KND, Broderick 'Numbuh 725' Nicolson. This is a pretty standard story, seen through the eyes of a KND operative attending the funeral of DC2030's Nolan York. I really dug deep inside myself for this one, and I'm proud of it. Combined abit of his style with my own, and I think it turned out well. The KND: Universe is used with permission from DC2030.

It's... personal for me.

Passionate Tendencies

Quahog Graveyard: May 17th

(Play 'Not Your Kind of People' by Garbage)

He stood in the center of the crowd, easily looked over. The people moved passed him to the grave as the casket was carried to the hole that had been dug for it. The boy who stood in the crowd was short, not much older than eleven. He wore a pair of glasses with transition lenses, turning black as the sun hit them to mask his soft green eyes. He kept the hood of his black hoodie up, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black jeans. They didn't know who he was, letting him in under the assumption he was just another bystander that wanted to attend the funeral. Nolan, The Sandman, Numbuh 2030, had a large amount of friends, so he was overlooked in the crowd.

The boy in black, secretly one of the KND operatives that still remained in this horrible time they lived in, was glad that he had been looked over. He hated to let people see him cry. He looked around at the villains that made their way up to the casket. Promethean bowed his head slightly. Holiday approached the casket and reached into his pocket. He held his hand out over it and opened it slowly, letting a small amount of sand fall onto the wooden casket. "May 17th: The Day of the Sandman, at least in my mind." He said aloud, shuffling away from it.

The rest of those in attendance slowly made their way past the casket, setting a rose atop the casket as they individually passed. The boy in black, Broderick Nicolson, chose to stay where he stood, sobbing softly to himself, out of everyone else's hearing. Broderick had joined the Kids Next Door because of Numbuh 2030. When he turned eight, his brother had mentioned someone from Sector Q. The boy had quickly looked into the person, Nolan, and had followed his whole career up to his decommissioning. He had read every report of the missions Nolan had been a part of. He was inspired to go through the cadet training because he believed in the way Nolan followed the KND; he believed in Numbuh 2030's standard.

Broderick was proud of himself because of his outspokenness in the KND, something that the leaders at the Moonbase had decided was not good, as he reminded them too much of Numbuh 2030. He was assigned to a nomad Sector, a sector that's job was to constantly move from one place to another for missions, without restrictions. The nomad Sector was called BA, Bad Apples- however, most had simply taken to calling them the Bad Company, or the Worst Sector. He was lucky that he had made friends with a few cadets who stayed with him even when he was moved to the Sector.

He could relate to Nolan, which was why he felt such a close connection to him. Broderick had also lost his father at a young age, and he felt the need to stand up for something more, something greater. As the crowd slowly dispersed when the casket was lowered into the hole, Broderick simply moved through the graves for a few feet, before settling himself between two graves. He removed his glasses, setting them in the dirt beside him. The tears slowly streamed down his cheeks as he gasped softly, trying to catch his breath again. An amazing operative was being buried this day; an even greater ideal.

Despite his love for the career of Numbuh 2030, Broderick had only ever met him once, not long after he had been made an official member of the KND, choosing to become Numbuh 725. Nolan York had been surrounded by the members of the Prospectors. He had attempted to approach the boy. He wanted to tell him how much of an inspiration he had been to him. He wanted to tell him how proud he was to be serving in the KND with an operative like Nolan. He wanted to thank him for making him find something grander in life. Instead, he saluted to Nolan, and Nolan smirked and nodded at him as he walked past.

Another tear stained his cheek as he realized he would never have the opportunity to say any of those things to him again. The secret of Nolan actually being the gas-masked hero of Quahog, The Sandman, had been released to the public now. Broderick was going to see if he could read up on the Sandman, as he felt he owed it to the operative whose career he had followed already. Thoughts began to formulate in his mind about Nolan York's life as the Sandman. Even after his decommissioning, after all the KND had done to him and his friends, he had continued to fight for the greater good, for a higher standard, a forgotten standard. The thoughts were telling him that even he would have to follow in the footsteps of Nolan into his life after the KND. He felt that it would be a good way to honor his fallen idol. A new form of passion, of inspiration, began to flow through his veins with his boiling blood, as he felt the surge of power in taking on a mask for himself and dealing the justice that needed to be dealt.

Now, however, was not such the time for a passion like that. Right now, he mourned for the loss of his idol, for someone he had hoped would be his friend, yet he had never approached. As Broderick sat there, in the empty cemetery, between tombstones, the soft sound of footsteps on grass could be heard. He felt the gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up. Broderick saw the gentle smile of his fellow operative, and girlfriend, Numbuh 79, whose real name was Elizabeth. Even if he wasn't sitting on the ground, she would have stood a head taller than him. He loved the look of her red hair in the nice sunlight. She knelt down to his level, picking up his glasses and placing them in his hands. "You alright, Broderick?" She said softly.

Broderick put the glasses in his lap, rubbing at his teary eyes with the back of his knuckles. He nodded slowly. "Mhm… Y-yeah… I'm alright, Elizabeth."

He put his glasses back on and she stood back up. She extended a hand. He smiled softly at her action and grasped her hand, letting her lift him back to his feet. "There's a few teens causing some trouble across town from here… If you're up for it, I mean…" She said calmly, entwining her fingers around his fingers.

Broderick sniffed, looking back at the grave of his fallen idol. He thought back to all those things he wished he could have said. He thought about all the things that could have been. He sighed softly, lifted himself onto his toes, and kissed Elizabeth's cheek. He felt that inspiration, that passion, coursing through him again. "Let's stop them." He said happily, between calming breaths.

His mind slowly wrapped itself around the memories of all he had ever read of Nolan York, Numbuh 2030. Deep in his heart, he was hurt by the death of his greatest source of hope. Yet, he knew that the fight for true justice could not wait because of the death of a single figure. A true hero never dies; for his ideals live on. Even though those ideals were hibernating, replaced with feelings of mourning, they would wake again. Broderick smiled softly at the thought of the world Nolan fought for; smiled happily at the sight of Elizabeth. He walked down the path of the cemetery to the gates, glancing one final time back at the grave.

(Song End.)