Everything I Ever

Summary: When Billy discovers that Wonderflonium has the power to bring the dead back to life, he wonders if he can truly have everything he ever wanted.

Author's Note: I started writing this a while back and just recently got the inspiration to start working on it again. Warnings and pairings are left off for the sake of suspense. Due to the nature of the fic, there will obviously be at least hints of Billy/Penny and Capt. Hammer/Penny, but I won't say anything beyond that. Also, sorry for the weird dividers. I don't like the horizontal rulers, and I had to find something else that worked. That said, enjoy.

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Chapter 1: Wonderflonium

"...a thing."

Billy blinked at his webcam and, after a moment, shut it off. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, staring at the computer screen. He knew there would be comments already. Ever since he joined the League, his blog had received comments so frequently he could not even keep up with them anymore. Not that he bothered to try.

He saw a shadow moving outside and shut off his monitor just as the door opened.

"Hey, Doc," Moist said, sloshing into the room drenched in sweat and carrying a stack of mail. "What's with the sweats? I thought you had some big assignment from Bad Horse."

Billy shook his head. "I have a few adjustments to make on the freeze ray. Figure out why it keeps losing power."

"Still? That thing must need a lot of work if you're still at it."

"Yeah." Dr. Horrible stood, recomposing his face into a vaguely annoyed expression. "Just leave the mail. I have a lot of work to do."

Moist gave a small laugh and set the mail down on the table. "Sure, man. Hey, you're coming to the party tomorrow, right? Dead Bowie's place. Should be fun."

"Uh-huh," Billy said, not really hearing. He had noticed Moist's eyes flit toward the picture frame lying face down on the floor, shards of glass scattered around it.

But Moist did not comment. "Well, I've got a date. I'll see you later."

Once Moist had gone, Billy sat back down and propped his elbow on the desk, massaging his temples with his eyes closed. He had not lied. He did need to fix the freeze ray to finish the assignment that had been given to him and Snake Bite. What he failed to reveal was that he could have easily made the changes by now if he set his mind to it. It was not that he had qualms about the assignment. Though the thought of killing the child who would be president had made him uneasy when Moist mentioned it months ago, he no longer cared.

But after the events at the opening of the homeless shelter, Dr. Horrible had tucked the freeze ray away in his lab. He had not touched it since.

Knowing he was only delaying the inevitable, Billy sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He pushed the button to open the door to his lab and stepped inside without bothering to put on his lab coat. Small steps. It was the only way.

As Dr. Horrible crossed the room, he saw a spider scurrying across his path. He brought his foot down on it without a thought, grinding it into the floor for good measure, and took the last few steps to his cluttered counter.

There it was. The metal of the freeze ray shone just had bright as ever, reflecting green light from a nearby test tube. Billy reached out a hand to touch the handle, gasping at how cold it was. He had never touched the ray with his bare hands before. He picked it up, tilting his head to look through the sights.

He frowned. Then, in one swift movement, he drew the ray back and swung it in an arc. He released at the last moment, and it rocketed across the room. It bounced off the far wall and skidded across the floor, oozing Wonderflonium over the floor.

Billy leaned back against the counter, taking sharp breaths. He was kidding himself. He could not keep living like this. He needed to make good on his promise to himself: to become Dr. Horrible completely.

"Dr. Horrible is here," he muttered, pressing his hand to his forehead. He drew in one last, deep breath and spoke in a strong, clear voice. "And I won't feel a thing."

Dr. Horrible grabbed his black gloves off the counter and knelt down to see what he could salvage of the freeze ray. The lurid green Wonderflonium bubbled and hissed, but it was still viable. If he could…

Something black moved in the muck and Billy froze, his heart catching in his chest. The spider he had smashed under his boot had unflattened. Lying belly up, it kicked its legs, trying to right itself. Then, with an almighty jerk of its body, it flipped over and skittered off across the slick floor.

Billy snapped out of his stupor and sprang forward. He straightened back up with Wonderflonium-drenched sleeves and the struggling spider clutched in his hands. He climbed to his feet and went to the counter again. Grabbing a small, cylindrical plastic container off the shelf, he dumped the spider inside and screwed the lid on, puncturing an air hole in the top with a knife. The spider crawled around inside, trying to climb up the walls and sliding back down.

Billy did not quite realize what he was seeing at first. As he blinked at the spider though, comprehension slowly dawned on him. He let out an unsteady breath of air. Then a guttural chuckle. His lips parted into a maniacal grin, and he laughed, throwing his head back.

The mood died quickly. He dropped his head, seizing the counter in a vice grip. After taking a moment to compose himself, he reached up to the shelf for a beaker and a stirring rod. He knelt on the floor again, cleared away as much of the debris of his rage as he could, and started the painstaking process of scooping the Wonderflonium into the beaker. He only managed to salvage about five milliliters. The rest had either absorbed into the stone floor or become polluted with tiny glass shards that would be too much trouble to remove. This would just have to do.

He pushed himself back to his feet and went to the counter to find a container to pour the Wonderflonium in. He screwed the cap on the new container and set it carefully on the shelf. Then he pressed a red button on the wall. A thin clothes rack slid out of the wall. Only two things hung on it: his Dr. Horrible lab coats, one white and one red. One from before and one from after.

Dr. Horrible reached automatically for the red coat, but Billy hesitated, biting his lip. Then, without a second thought, he grabbed the white one. He retrieved his white scrubs and changed into the clothes he had not worn since joining the League. As he slid on his white boots, snapped his goggles on his forehead, and swapped out his black gloves for white ones, he felt more confident, but also more edgy. This was too good to be true. But, oh, he wanted to believe.

By the time he found his shovel and stepped out the door, the sun had set. Probably for the best. Granted, since Dr. Hammer's break down, no one ever tried to foil his plans anymore, but he thought it might be best to keep this one to himself. He was not sure how the League would react if they found out.

The graveyard gate creaked as he pushed it open. Tombstones loomed silent and foreboding on the other side, and not a single gust of wind disturbed the grass. He made his way through the rows of graves, examining the headstones. He was not sure where exactly she was buried, had only heard in passing once that she was buried in this graveyard. It had never occurred to him that he would need to come here.

As he reached the heart of the graveyard, he stopped dead in his tracks, His eyes traveled over the shiny, marble headstone standing out amongst the dull ones around it.

Here Lies What's-Her-Name

1983-2008

She dated Captain Hammer

Bile rose in Billy's throat. The city had buried her and paid for the funeral, yet had not even bothered to find out her name. Not that Captain Hammer would tell them. Even if he was not a blubbering mess, he was too self-centered to even care that she was dead.

Billy shook his head and set his shovel to the ground.

Digging up the grave turned out to be a lot harder than he thought. The dirt was hard and unyielding. By the time he had dug down two feet, he was drenched in sweat. He threw off his lab coat and goggles and leaned against the shovel handle, mopping his brow. He wished there was an easier way, but he could not see one. Afraid someone might come along, he paused only a moment to catch his breath before setting to work again.

Hours later, by which time he was caked with dirt and almost ready to admit defeat, his shovel struck something solid. With a new burst of energy, he cleared away the last of the dirt from the lid of the heavy, cherry coffin. He gripped the edges and pulled with all the strength he could muster. With an almighty creak, it opened.

The smell of embalming fluid reached him and he retched, clutching the lid to steady himself. Only when he knew he was not going to vomit did he finally allow himself to look.

He did not know what he had expected. A rotting corpse. A skeleton. Maybe nothing but dust, though he realized that not nearly enough time had passed for that. He had not expected to find her body lying in pristine condition, dressed in an expensive black dress that he was willing to bet had been purchased after she died. Her hair was arranged perfectly around her pale face. She looked like she was sleeping. He reached out a hand to touch her cheek, but he could feel nothing through his gloves.

Billy shook his head, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He had no time to lose. He carefully slipped his hands under her body, lifting her out of her padded coffin. Her head hung back limply on her shoulders, and the terrifying thought that it might fall off flashed through his mind. He shifted her weight in his arms and, with a groan, pushed her up onto solid ground. He crawled out after her, panting. It struck him that he should have just brought the Wonderflonium with him, but it was too late now. Besides, he did not want her to wake up next to her own grave. He pulled his lab coat and goggles back on. Scooping her up again, he staggered to his feet and started back toward his house.

By some miracle, he made it back before sunrise and without meeting anyone. He kicked the door open and stumbled in. He managed to make it to the giant armchair before pitching forward, dropping her in it unceremoniously. His knees hit the floor hard. He was so exhausted, he wanted to just collapse right there and fall asleep, but he had to work. He could do nothing else. Not with her body right there.

He forced himself to his feet again and went to the counter, retrieving the Wonderflonium from its perch. The struggling spider caught his attention and gave him the last burst of energy he needed. He approached Penny again, kneeling by her side. She was just sleeping. And he finally had a way to wake her up.

He pulled off his gloves and cupped her head in his bare hands. Her hair felt brittle between his fingers. He tipped the Wonderflonium to her lips, emptying every last drop.

He sat back, staring at her with unblinking eyes, and waited.

And waited.

Several long minutes passed, and still nothing. He reached out to touch her face again, caressing her cold cheek. Nothing.

He stood and stumbled back to his lab, clutching the counter. His eyes shut, tears threatening to spill from the corners. Was this the world's idea of a cruel joke? Just keep dangling the one thing he wanted in front of him and yanking it away the moment he got close enough to grasp it?

A swell of anger ripped through Billy's body. With a strangled yell, he swept his hands across the counter, dashing everything to the floor. The sound of shattering glass filled the room and chemicals sizzled and smoked. He ransacked the house, overturning furniture and throwing everything he could reach. When he ran out of things to destroy, he stood in the midst of it all, panting and seething. Through the still-open door to his lab, he could see the back of the chair and her pale legs hanging over the side.

All at once, an eerie calm settled over him.

Dr. Horrible stood up straight and his eyes narrowed. He marched back into the lab, tearing off the white coat as he went. He changed into his red scrubs and coat. Freeze ray or no, he had a job to do. The League was counting on him. He walked out the front door without a second glance at the still form in the chair.

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Strong arms squeezed around Penny's body, dragging her up toward a bright light. She fought against them, longing to stay in the dark, cold depths. But the pull was too strong. She flew toward the light, engulfed by it.

Then, suddenly, she fell back several feet and landed hard.

She felt heavy. Cold. Every breath was agony. She realized her eyes were closed and opened them, staring up at a pink-tinged ceiling.

Where am I?

Her lips did not move; her throat refused to work. Mustering her strength, she lifted her head to look around, blinking in the light of sunrise leaking through the shades on the windows. She was in an armchair. How had she gotten here? She could not remember. Her brain was fuzzy. She had been sitting in a different chair for some reason. She shut her eyes and saw a sea of faceless people. She was listening to someone speak, but she could not remember who.

She glanced over the elegant black dress draped around her dirt-smudged body and the too-small shoes jammed onto her feet. She did not think she had ever owned clothes so nice.

She turned her head to look at the rest of the room and sat up with a gasp.

The room had been trashed. The floor was covered with various scattered objects, broken glass, and liquids she could not identify, some smoking faintly and eating holes in the floor. What happened here?

She pushed herself to her feet, wobbling, and stepped forward into the next room, which looked like a living room and was also wrecked. As she moved across the room, glass crunched under her feet. She looked down and saw a picture frame on the floor. She picked it up and saw an image of herself through the leaves of a tree. She dropped it, backing toward the door. She seized the doorknob, wrenched the door open, and bolted out onto the street.

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Author's Note: Please review. Next chapter: Penny gets a look at what became of the world after her death.