Note from teh G-girl:

I watched Operation: ZERO and I loved it. So this just sorta popped up into my head after watching a vid on YouTube called "Photograph" about the KND. Go check it out, if you want to. Look for a 3/4 fic coming eventually, but less angsty and more romantic. Anyway, here's my ode to 2/5, whom I absolutley adore. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's a crying shame, I tell you!

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It's September 19th today. I should know. We have great big party every year today in the tree house, with cake and candles and presents and a piñata. And every year when the party's over I go to my room and imagine myself serenading her. I know I'll never work up the courage to do it for real, so I imagine. And in my imagination she smiles and sighs and oohs and aahs and gives me kiss when I'm through. But I know that this will never happen. And Numbuh 4 wonders why I keep my head in the clouds.

It's September 19th. Numbuh 5's birthday.

This year there is no party. There's no cake, no presents, no piñata. Because today is Abby's 13th birthday. Today, she gets decommissioned. Tomorrow, she won't remember me. I'll be that kid who sits next to her in class and cracks bad jokes and is obsessed with airplanes. Tonight every laugh, every hug, every moment we ever shared will grow fuzzy and dim as the effects of the decommissioning are completed, and eventually they will all be gone, a vague and distant memory that she'll never be sure just wasn't some dream. That's all I'll be. A dream.

I can't stand that thought.

Nobody's talked much today. We all have moped around the tree house, avoiding each other. Numbuh 5's not even here. I don't know where she is, but I can't recall seeing her much this week anyway. Inside I'm screaming at myself, at everyone, "This is our last day together! We should be making the most of it! Out visiting arcades, and the candy store, and the ice-cream parlor! We should be at the park, at the movies, at the circus! Some place where memories are made!"

But that's stupid. Because come tomorrow, Abby won't remember any of this. Any of us, any of anything. She'll be a teenager, one with the adults. And I'll have to wait a whole year to join her.

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We're in the hanger, now. It's 4:57 pm. We're getting ready to go to the moon base. Every one is stalling, finding a reason we can't get on the plane. I can't stand to watch anybody, so I just get into the cockpit and lock myself away from the world, and try to pretend it's not happening, it's not real. But any second now a transmission will come from up there in the stars and we'll have to take Numbuh 5 up there, to meet her destiny. We can't not take her. Or else they'll send special operatives to retrieve her. It should be us who take her, me who holds her hand when she steps into that chamber. We're a team, we're a family, and we're all each other's got.

Until tomorrow.

Everyone's coming onboard. It seems Numbuh 1 finally got control of himself and ordered everyone onto the ship.

"Numbuh 2," he says quietly, his hand on my shoulder, "take us up."

And I do. I barely pay attention as we leave the atmosphere and begin to orbit. I've done this a hundred times; I could do it in my sleep. I just stare out the window because I know that if I look anywhere else I'll never be able stop myself from breaking in half. Something tells me that's not what Abby needs, not now.

Numbuh 3 can't seem to help herself, and I see her vague reflection in the window shield sobbing into Numbuh 4's arms, who's holding her and trying to console her as best he can. Numbuh 1's slumped in his chair, his head in his hand as if he has a headache. I know he'll miss her way too much; she was his second in command, almost better than him in some ways. It's breaking everyone's hearts, but for some reason, it seems like mine is cracking the loudest and most clearly and is in the most pain.

Abby's not staring at anything. I wonder if she's even here. I wonder what she's thinking about. About all the great times she had? What it will be like to be an adult? About me? Will she miss me? Will she remember me at all?

But I know she won't. It's just not gonna happen.

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We're here. We land smoothly. What can I say, I'm the best. We disembark and Numbuh 86 welcomes us to moon base. Even Numbuh 362 doesn't say anything, just shakes her head and gives Numbuh 5 one last hug. Numbuh 86 leads the way to the chamber. It seems like every kid in the moon base (and a few more) has turned out to see the great Abigail Lincoln, aka Numbuh 5, be decommissioned. Some kids are crying. Some are saluting. Abby returns every salute, every wave. She's an instant celebrity. We get to the decommissioning room.

"I'll give you guys a minute," Numbuh 86 says, and she shakes Abby's hand. I think she too is crying as she leaves the room. We stand there for a while and nobody does anything. As usual, Numbuh 1 is the first to act.

"I will never have a better second if I live to be one-hundred," he says, his voice quivering, and gives Abby a hug, which she returns. Numbuh 3 runs to her, and collapses on her, sobbing uncontrollably. Abby pats her on the back and whispers something kind in her ear. Numbuh 4 is next, and he tries to keep a stiff upper lip, but he can't help the few tears that escape the corners of his eyes. Abby shakes his hand and gives him a hug. I'm sure he thinks he's loosing the big sister he never had. I'm loosing the love I never got up the courage to create.

It's my turn. I walk up to her, trying to look full of hope. She eyes me with the saddest look I've ever seen. I want to say something clever, like "I'll see you in a year!" or "Can't stay a kid forever." But that would ruin everything.

I can't seem to find my tongue. I just stand there staring at her.

"I guess this is goodbye," I finally say.

"I guess," she answers.

"We'll always have Paris, you know," I say, and she gives me a light punch. She'll probably never forgive me for making her watch Casablanca, even if she doesn't remember me.

"You can keep Paris. I'm just gonna remember the KND."

"Goodbye, Abby."

"Goodbye, Hoagie."

She turns to go. It's now or never.

I stop her, spinning her around, and kiss her. Right on the lips. Like an old fashioned, black and white kiss.

And then, like a candle in the wind, she's gone.

"C'mon, Numbuh 5," Numbuh 1 says, and he leads her into the chamber. It's his job. He's the leader. But just as he's about to pull the leaver, I stop him.

"I'll do it," I say, almost too quietly for him to hear. He nods, because he understands.

Within minutes, it's done. I pull the lever and the door opens. Out walks Abby, wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt, and that red hat, which is now backwards. She looks around the room.

"Anybody got any chips and dip?" she asks. I could cry. I want to. But I won't.

"No," Numbuh 3 says quietly. She's stopped crying. She sounds dead, which is spooky, and something I'd never thought I'd say.

"C'mon, Abby," I say, and I take her hand, "I'll take you home."

"Ok, but there better be chips and dip there," she says. I'll never make it.

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"Numbuh 2?"

I'm sitting on the ledge of one of the upper decks of the tree house, leaning against the railing. Everything's so quite. I can count the stars.

"Numbuh 2?" Numbuh 4 asks again. He comes and sits beside me.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Are you ok?"

"Is any of us?" I ask. He shakes his head, sighs, and leans against the railing.

"Numbuh 5 was always the strong one, you know. She was cool and level headed. She knew just what to do in a fight, and could master any weapon you threw at her," Numbuh 4 says quietly. It feels like his giving her eulogy. In a way, he kind of is.

"I know," I say.

"There's just one thing I don't get," Numbuh 4 says, and I know he's staring at me hard, but I won't look at him. If I do, I'm done for.

"What?"

"Why'd you kiss her?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Why'd you wait? Why did you kiss her right when she wouldn't remember? Why not give her time to enjoy it?" He's not accusing me of anything, I can tell. He's just plain curious. That's Numbuh 4 for you.

"To remember," is all I can say.

"She won't," he says.

"But I will. I'll always remember. I'll remember when the leaves fall, and when I drink hot chocolate, when the sun comes out and when the flowers bloom. I'll remember in the fall, and the winter, and the summer and the spring. I'll remember even as the stars turn cold."

He puts a hand on my shoulder, then gets up and leaves. I bury my face in my arms and I sob. I sob until I think I'm going to dry up into nothing. I've never felt so much hurt, so much pain and so much fear. I've never lost something so dear to me.

But I will never forget. I'll remember kissing her. I'll remember holding her hand, and taking her on long walks with some lame excuse and buying her candy on Valentine's Day, only to send it unanimously. I'll remember her slapping me with that ridiculous hat because of my equally ridiculous puns. I'll remember everything.

Even if she doesn't. I'll remember.

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