Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Kim Possible. They are owned by some Mickey Mouse company.

Author's Notes: I am highly stressed, and don't have much time to write. I am starting this story because of that. It is an idea that I have had kicking around in my head, and leads itself to working with short choppy out of sequence chapters. Again, this is an experimental style for me. In such, the first chapter is actually the next to last, while the last chapter will be the last. The chapters between them yield themselves in no pre ordained order to be published. Please read and review so I can fine tune the story format.

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As I walk down the long white hall, I notice the doors. Doors to nothing, but then, that is how this facility was designed, this whole facility for one person and one alone. An entire facility fully staffed as if it was at full occupancy, but all for one person. One person that it has been deemed to be more important a project than anything else. I sigh as I make the last corner and spot the armored guards. I have read the files, and know that in another condition the resident in the room would more than demand that response.

I nod to the guards as I look into the window. There sits huddled into a corner in a restraint jacket a pitiful disassociated individual. How they got to this point has been noted by many organizations on both sides of the fence. I hear slight humming from the sole figure of the room. I have a chair pulled up to me and I sit. It is time for me to go to work.

I guess that at this time an explanation would be in order. I am psychic. No, I am not a telepath; I can't speak to other's minds. I am not empathic, well more so than anyone else, so I can't know what one is feeling. I am a mnemopath, or a mnemomancer, they haven't decided upon the exact phrasing. I can see a person's memories. Most of the time I am called in to make sure that the facts in a confusing case are as the agent reports. Yes, I know not very exciting, but the trust that is shown me to do this is remarkable, and I am kept happy.

That is usually what I do. Now, though, is different. I am here to find the cause of this utter breakdown. What took this strong person and shattered their mind to this degree. I know the story as others have reported it, know the differences, but now I have to find out the truth from the one that it happened to.

I relax and send out my mind into the secured room. The first memory that comes to me worries me.

"Ron, I'm sorry; I didn't plan this. You have to believe me. I never meant to hurt you. I still want us to be friends," pleads a redheaded woman.

"Kim, I think it might be best for us not to associate for a while." There is a turn to leave the room and there is a green hued woman.

"Face it, Stoppable, the best person won."

I may not be empathic, but even I can feel the hatred in the room.

Quietly I hear, "Remember one thing. Remember who the Big Dog is, Shego. Bark, bark, woof."

The woman blanches more so than I thought would be possible. I pull back so I can record this down, and start the process of assembling the puzzle left of our guests mind. I just hope that I will be able to do this in time.