The Face of Happiness

Rating: T

A/N: I've had the general idea for a short fic like this floating around my head for a while now, and with the venture into Ren's background [a character of mine from my story Late Nights], I decided to put words to it. Feel free to give me feedback since this is one of my first trips into a dark theme such as this.

Now, without further ado, to the story.


What is happiness?

Happiness is, simply, a relative term. It is defined by personal ideals and surrounding situations and environments, so there are many different answers to such a question. Some people may describe it as the shouted cheers after opening a present on Christmas Day, others might say it's the feeling of buzz you feel after a joyous evening with a group of friends, and yet, others will tell you it's the thought of spending countless millions on material items.

If you were to ask Kim Possible the meaning of happiness, however, she would tell you that happiness is every moment spent in the arms of the woman she loves. She would say something like, "Being with her fills me with so much happiness I can't contain it all. I feel like I could smile on endlessly as long as she's by my side with how much joy pulsing within my body." Perhaps she would answer more simply, "Happiness, to me, is the love I have for Shego."

Venturing over to Shego, she would respond by telling you that happiness was watching the sleeping face of the love of her life. She'd say, "It's hard to put into words, really, but happiness is the invincible fluttering of your heart. Happiness is something so pure, and unintelligible that it's impossible glean it's true depth." Or maybe she would shrug, and smile fondly, "Happiness...is the lightening of my body in Kimmie's presence."

Such statements might leave one at a loss for words, or simply smiling and nodding in agreement. It depends on an assortment of thing, the meaning of happiness. Such a state of being is mind-boggling, nearly impossible to relate to words. No phrase, no string of words, will ever truly divulge the full definition of happiness. It is an enigmatic something that is just as such.

Happiness, no matter how undefinable, can still be understood. In a way, it can also be analyzed. That's how people derive the meaning of happiness after all, but isn't it a double-edged sword? A marvelous tree that shields from view the venomous snake lying ready to strike?

Despite the joys of happiness, with it, comes the tarnished cousin named hurt. Hurt, the black sheep looked down upon by happiness, joy, and excitement. Hiding behind the swell of happiness, hurt will cascade down upon those unsuspecting, hoping to dig deep enough to allow pain to take hold.

What is pain?

Pain is the wretched, vile evolution of hurt. A burning acid that may feel like bile in your stomach as it tries to claw it's way from the very pit of your being. Pain is also said to be therapeutic, a numbing agent and a veil. Pain can also become solace to some, the only escape from certain doom, from the death of the drive and motivation to continue on. Like happiness, there are many ways to describe pain, many ways to define it.

If you were to ask Shego how to define pain, she might tell you that it is the culminating whirlwind of emotions that is heartbreak. She might say, "Pain...is when you will your heart to cease it's steady thudding because every beat feels like it's driving several more bullets through it. Pain is having destroyed the very thing you vowed to protect and leaving yourself with no way to make amends or reparations." If you caught her on day where she was significantly submerged in her own self-pity and grief, she would say simply, "Pain was Kim walking out that door because I screwed up a 2 year long relationship."

And maybe, if Kim felt like saying a few words, she would tell you that pain was the inability to breath, your chest clenching so tightly it was a miracle you didn't fall over dead. She'd likely mutter, "It's like a piece of you is missing, the void pulsing incessantly, every pulse ripping further into your spirit. You might as well rip your still-beating heart from your chest and grind your heel into it, wishing, hoping, and praying it would stop beating, stop bleeding, but it never does, it just keeps on pumping." Not really wanting to talk as she fell into a self-depreciating state, she might just barely whisper, "Pain was, is still, how broken Shego's words made me, and how she let me leave that apartment."

Happiness and pain...they seemed to go hand in hand, and it was unfortunate. Seeing something of such purity and angelic quality morph into something so dark and twisted was unpleasant in a way that could make your skin crawl. Pain was the undesired portion of happiness that was teetered along for the ride, looking for an in, and most often succeeding.

I sighed, pushing black rimmed glasses up along the bridge of my nose. A hand briefly pushed through snow white hair, the full weight of my body coming to rest on the back of the large leather chair upon which I sat. Glancing at the name plate that simply read Dr. Moore, I closed my eyes pale blue eyes with another sigh. This job was never easy.