Disclaimer: I STILL own nothing, Cartoon Network owns all, and they ain't
sharin'!
A/N: Hi! If you didn't read the summary (which I doubt, otherwise you wouldn't even be here), this is a continuation of my first KND fic "Weapon of Mass Destruction". I wanna take this time to send a boat load of thanks to all the wonderful little freaks who sent me such fantastic feedback for "Weapon", Numbuh19, Shiawese, MysticalWoodElf, TJ Rose, Melody Hoshi Sugar, informer, and Ducket45, along with any future reviewers, and add to that a whole other boat load especially to GS2aholic for the whole continuation idea and her reviews. Thank you all SOOO much and enjoy GS2aholic's vision, I just hope I do it justice.
P.S: This fic will probably be even shorter than "Weapon", maybe nothing more than a one-shot. Also, you can probably read this without having previously read "Weapon of Mass Destruction" and still understand.
P.P.S: Stuff in these are thoughts, just like last time.
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It had been a few weeks since the incident with the gun, and things had more or less returned to normal at KND HQ, a.k.a. the treehouse. Well, as normal as things at a semi-secret force against all evil done against kids by adults run by five ten year olds can be. The missions were flowing from IHQ with a vengeance, and it was all the Kids Next Door could do just to keep up without collapsing. It was on their third mission in that many days, though it felt like hours, that something finally gave.
"Kids Next Door: ATTACK!!!" came Numbuh 1's rousing battle cry as the five children let themselves freefall along cables into the large building of their new nemesis. They stopped themselves ten feet from the floor so that they dangled mid-air, pulled out their weapons, and began firing on the monstrous mutant attack-dog set to guard the building. All except Numbuh 5. She didn't hook the brake on her cable, and instead slide all the way to the floor. She frantically unhooked herself and ran for the cover of a few crates in a corner. She watched shame-faced as her fellow teammates valiantly continued their fire on the irate and snarling canine. After only a few seconds she turned away and slumped against the crate, unable to witness the results of her cowardice any longer.
Numbuh 5 jis' can't do it no more, Numbuh 5 cried in her mind as she squeezed her eyes shut and willed her tears to keep from falling. This wasn't the first time 5 had choked on the job, ever since the gun incident she hadn't been able to draw her weapon on anything, enemy or not. It didn't matter that the blaster was of her own making, with Numbuh 2's help of course. She'd had fun in the process, for Heaven's sake! Lovingly crafting the weapon so it fit her perfectly, testing it round after round with Numbuh 1, those were some of her favorite memories since her enlistment in the Kids Next Door.
But now, after what had happened, she could barely stand the sight of the blaster because of the horrible memories that still washed over her. It was affecting her performance in almost every way. Without an effective weapon at her side, Numbuh 5 was practically defenseless when it came to a close-quarters battle with an enemy, and that was so frightening most of the time that she couldn't help but flee in terror. And that very action led her to spend most of the mission cowering behind a crate, or something to that effect. Eventually her teammates would vanquish their foe and Numbuh 5 would have to make up a plausible excuse why she hadn't been by their sides.
This night was no exception, and 5 was again subjected to an interrogation aboard the M.O.S.Q.U.I.T.O (A/N: I know I spelled it wrong, but I don't remember how it really is spelled, so give me a break, okay?), "Numbuh 5, I demand to know what the devil happened to you back there," 1 said in a steel tone, "You disappeared on us! You know as well as I do that that is NOT acceptable behavior for a Kid Next Door operative." The other three children fixed the top of her red cap, since her face was lowered and pointing towards the window, with half curious, half angry looks.
The dark girl answered the landscape passing by them instead of her leader, "Numbuh 5 was-" the lie stuck in her throat, "I just- Numbuh 5 got hit by dat dog, okay?!" She whipped around to face Numbuh 1, displaying the right side of her face mangled by several cuts and scrapes as well as a colorful bruise the size of a grapefruit. Just a little example of what complete desperation, shame, and a lot of guilt can drive a person to do to themselves.
Numbuh 1's eyebrows shot up from behind his glasses and his tone immediately changed from chastising to apologetic, "Ah, I see, Numbuh 5. That's a nasty wound, but it was honorably got." Numbuh 5 cringed at his kind words as they continued, "There's no shame in ducking out when wounded, and it would only have been a detriment to the mission itself if you'd have tried to fight."
See, Numbuh 5's mind tried to rationalize, Even if you TRIED ta' fight, wit' you not even able ta' draw yo' own weapon? Naw, it would'uh been a disaster. A detriment to da team, like da boss sayz! But she knew her inner-most heart would never accept this excuse, since that's all it was, an excuse. An excuse to pardon her cowardice, and it would hold water about as well as a tissue in her book. She wasn't wounded, she was afraid, and that was no excuse for her actions. The guilt continued to bore a hole in her middle as they landed back inside the treehouse.
:::
Despite appearances, Numbuh 1 hadn't been satisfied with Numbuh 5's evidence of being wounded by the dog. He had let her be the past few days, hoping with all his heart she'd get her act together on her own, but that seemed increasingly less likely. His shock at her "wound" was in fact genuine, and it was the last bit of evidence Numbuh 1 needed to decide 5 needed his help badly. He could tell that the bruise had been made by no monster-dog, no matter how quick or ferocious. However, he'd been reluctant to accept that Numbuh 5, his best friend, would do such a thing to herself in the name of pride, but apparently he'd been mistaken and he couldn't wait any longer.
Their workload had lightened slightly, and other sectors of the KND were fielding a lot of the missions, so the kids were enjoying a little downtime before their next job. Numbuh 1 chose this time to have it out with 5 about what was bothering her, and he attempted to map out what he would say as he drew closer to Numbuh 5's room.
He lifted a fist to announce himself, but was frozen in mid-knock at a soft sound coming from behind the closed door. Numbuh 5 was crying. Not the few, perfect but silent tears that had dripped from her eyes only a week ago, but racking sobs that made Numbuh 1 feel as if someone was trying to crack open his rib cage with a rusty knife and a set of pliers. It took him a moment to regain his composure and knock lightly, "Numbuh 5?" he called, "May I come in?"
Numbuh 5 jerked up from her prone position on her bed, smashing a pillow to her face to muffle her pain. She nervously wiped her eyes and coughed a few times to force out, "Uh, n-no, Numbuh 1. Numbuh 5's busy at da moment, could you come back latuh'?"
She prayed he'd just leave her alone with her misery, and immediately decided there was no God at her teammate's response, "Um- no, Numbuh 5. I think we really need to talk. Please- let me in."
Those last three words almost restarted 5's waterworks, but she took a few deep breaths and busied herself tidying up her room a little, i.e. throwing away tissues, and tugging her red cap far over her eyes to hide their bloodshot and tired appearance. Only when she was satisfied Numbuh 1 wouldn't be suspicious did she open her door, "'Sup, boss?" she greeted him, speaking in a low, husky tone since anything higher would make her voice crack, not the what she was going for.
The Brit walked into her room until he was in the center of it, then turned to face his teammate. She's so bad at hiding when she's been crying, 1 couldn't help but think as she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
Unbeknownst to him, the look of pure compassion that had washed over his face following that thought had instantly undone all of Numbuh 5's carefully built defenses and in seconds she was falling to the floor in a tearful heap. Numbuh 1 swiftly gathered her up in his arms and lowered them both gently to the floor so Numbuh 5 could dissolve back into the crying- jag she had abandoned at his arrival. All he could do beyond hold the sobbing girl was lightly stroke her back and hair and whisper whatever he could until she cried herself out, "Shh, it'll be alright," he murmured against her trembling shoulder, "Everything will be alright...."
5 persisted through her tears, "No, no, nuthin'll be aiite! Got it? Nuthin's gonna be aiite!" She couldn't stand the lies anymore, even- no, especially coming from Numbuh 1 and not her. He didn't understand what he was saying, he couldn't! Not Numbuh 1, he could never understand what she was going through, no one could! That only made the tears fall in even greater numbers, she was alone, completely alone.
But Numbuh 1 hadn't stopped his steady stream of comfort, "I'm right here, I won't go anywhere. You're not alone." He was simply pulling every memory he had of when his own mother and father would comfort him, but the words were exactly what 5 needed. Her sobs quieted into less painful cries, and eventually to light sniffles. Only until 5 had stopped completely did Numbuh 1 release her. She scooted only a few inches away from him, but still hung her head in shame and refused to meet his eyes. They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Numbuh 1 until he couldn't take it anymore and gently took hold of 5's limp hands. She glanced up at him in surprise, and then back down at her lap.
"What's wrong, Numbuh 5?" 1 asked, still holding her hands, "You can tell me, you know that. You can tell me anything, it's me, Nigel. We've been friends for as long as I can remember, don't shut me out now."
Numbuh 5 shifted slightly in her seated position, and felt as if she might burst right back into tears. He was right, they had been friends for a long time. She suddenly felt silly for thinking for so long she'd had to hide her pain from her best friend. The ridiculousness of the thought brought the ghost of a smile to her face, which made Numbuh 1's hear leap in his chest, but it fled just as quickly as she finally spoke, "Dere's sumthin' I neva' told you guys...." she started, but fell into silence once again. Her brain was screaming at her alternately to tell Numbuh 1 and to bury her confession until it never saw the light of day again, as she so often did.
Nigel wouldn't give up without a fight, however, "What? What didn't you tell me, Abby?" This had stopped being about the Kids Next Door and was now between him and Abby alone.
Nigel's use of her real name finally sealed her fate, and Abby let herself fall into the terrible memory from before she'd even heard of the Kids Next Door, when she was still a little, delicate baby girl of five. Her Uncle Geoffrey was visiting for the 4th of July, and Abby, her mama, and he went down to the convenience store to pick up some food for a picnic before the fireworks. They planned to meet her daddy, her brother, Micheal, and the Uno family at the field behind her church where the fireworks would be shown.
Abby was practically floating with excitement, this was her favorite holiday. Her family was huge on Independence Day, so it was always been a big deal at her house, with flags and streamers and always the fireworks. Abby couldn't wait. She let her miniature flag her mama had let her play with fly as she danced up and down the aisles while the two adults gathered the necessary provisions. As she neared her uncle in her flight down one of the aisles he scooped her up and swung her playfully in his strong grip.
"Fly, baby girl, fly," Uncle Geoffrey said merrily, his crinkly eyes twinkling up at her as he chuckled in his deep, resonating voice. Abby squealed with delight before he set her down and she continued her feverish dance around the store. A few more precious minutes, and her mama called for her to get in line so they could pay and leave. They young girl reluctantly slowed and joined her mama in line, squeezing the older woman's hand in joy. Uncle Geoffrey stood in front of them, and another man in a dark, hooded sweatshirt stood before the store's cashier. Abby, despite her euphoric daze, couldn't help but wonder how the man could wear such heavy clothes in the middle of summer.
It all happened very fast, despite what Numbuh 5 would recall later. Abby watched the black gun as it flashed from the man's pocket. Her eyes turned to the cashier, whose look of abject terror was burned into her brain on contact. And finally to her uncle as he rushed to the cashier's aid, only to be gunned down in seconds by the man in the dark clothes. She barely registered her mama's horrified scream as she was absorbed in watching her uncle fall to the floor and his blood splash the linoleum, as well as her white sneakers. She watched Uncle Geoffrey's eyes slowly dim, and then his body go slack. She once again watched the dark man as he leveled the deadly weapon on the cashier once more. The gun, the last image to sear her memory before she passed out, and then silence.
Silence reigned between Nigel and Abby as she finished her story. She didn't feel much better, but at least she wasn't crying again. Both children were grateful for that. Nigel just barely recalled that day, it wasn't much more than a footnote in his family. He remembered Abby and her mother and uncle not showing up at the fireworks, and enjoying them without her. He suddenly felt a great burst of guilt about having had fun that 4th of July while Abby had been experiencing probably the worst day of her life. He realized then that that had been the following days were when she'd started to pull away from him, retreat into herself. Her mother had been worried about her and had pressed upon Nigel to play with her often to work up her spirits. That's when the pair had discovered the Kids Next Door, and while it didn't completely restore Abby to her former self, it taught her to be strong and brave and get along with others, and her mother whole-heartedly approved.
"But that doesn't explain your actions, Numbuh 5," Numbuh 1 reluctantly said. He hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way, but he had to have an answer.
"Numbuh 5 knows," 5 replied, "I wuz gettin' ta dat." 1 smiled slightly, he knew she knew he wasn't trying to be pushy, "When Fo' brought in dat gun, Numbuh 5 kinda lost it. It jis brought it all back, you know? I couldn't take it, 'n den when he wuz holdin' it on da zoo lady.... Numbuh 5 knows she SOUNDED like she wuz fine, but she wuzn't, no suh'." She paused and settled into a more comfortable position on the floor, "Truth wuz, it only made it worse. Dese las' few missions, Numbuh 5 couldn't even bring herself ta pick up her weapon- heck, barely look at it wid'out feelin' like she gon' be sick. 'N wid'out a weapon, Numbuh 5'd be dead meat in a fight. You know dat, Numbuh 1."
"How long did you think you could go in that condition before we noticed anything, Numbuh 5?" 1 asked quietly, "You could've told us. It would have made things much easier."
5 nodded wearily, "I know, boss, I know." They fell silent again, having run out of important things to say.
"So," 1 eventually said in a more brisk tone, "Do you think you're up to drawing your weapon now? Since you've gotten everything off your chest?"
5 felt a panic flutter in said relieved chest, "Dat I dun know, Numbuh 1. Guess we'll find out, huh?"
She was surprised when 1 immediately stood up in front of her, "Yes, we will," he said before pulling her to her feet, "Where is your blaster?"
5 searched her memory, when was the last time she had been mentally well enough to look at her weapon? Or rather, when had she become so sick of it she'd banished it from her sight, and where to did she banish it? "Unduh da bed, I think. 'S kinda been a while."
Numbuh 1 released her hands just long enough to riffle under her bed and pull out the blaster. 5 promptly whipped away from it and tensed up in an attempt to quell her quaking stomach. Nope, she was definitely NOT up to it. But this didn't stop Numbuh 1, without pause he came behind Numbuh 5 and pressed the blaster into her hand, molding the limp fingers around the butt and trigger. She bit her lip and her hand refused to hold the blaster under its own power so 1 had to stay near and keep a firm grasp or the weapon would fall to the floor, "You're going to have to do this eventually, Numbuh 5," the boy said firmly but quietly.
"I know," 5 pushed out between clenched teeth, "I jis CAN'T-"
"No!" Numbuh 1 unexpectedly interrupted, "I won't have this 'can't' business, do you hear me? We both know it's not 'can't', it's won't. I've seen you use this weapon with an almost artful grace," Numbuh 5 blushed at the compliment through her fear. He could still get to her, no matter what, and she was grateful for that, "And you can do it again, I'm sure of it." He finally took the blaster from her hand and began to lead her from the room, keeping the weapon at his side. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing for the moment she wouldn't have to touch the weapon and allowed herself to be led, holding onto his hand with both of hers as they walked toward the shooting gallery in one of the many wings of the treehouse.
They were just about to leave the common area when a sudden crash of glass brought their attention to a nearby window. A large, menacing figure brushed glass of itself before rushing the stunned Kids Next Door, swinging what appeared to be a candy-cane sword. The flat of the sword met Numbuh 1's face with a slap, sending him flying onto the carpet of the common area.
"Aarrgh!" the dark figure bellowed triumphantly, "Ya' thought you'd seen the last of ol' Sticky Beard, eh?" He sauntered toward the fallen leader, seeming to have forgotten the stunned Numbuh 5 in favor of gloating over his quarry. Numbuh 1 lay on the floor, motionless.
Numbuh 5 had shrunk against the treehouse wall, petrified of Sticky Beard and ashamed of that fear. She couldn't move, even as the sweet- toothed pirate drew closer to Numbuh 1. She wanted to close her eyes or to run away, but the fear held her tightly in its clutches, making any movement impossible. She fought to keep from hyperventilating as she looked down, away from Numbuh 1's doom. There lay dropped by Numbuh 1 the object of her nightmares, and the last hope of her leader and friend. The homemade weapon had fallen in a patch of light of the late afternoon sun, and seemed to glow with familiar warmth. Numbuh 5 felt the fear in her melt away as she gazed at it. The good memories came back of its creation, its perfection, and, as Numbuh 1 had put it so poetically, the artful grace with which Numbuh 5 alone could use it.
She dove for the weapon without hesitation, scooping it up before rolling into the common area and coming up to her feet. She the blaster leveled at Sticky Beard's head as he stood above Numbuh 1, candy-cane sword rose to deal the death blow. The weapon's laser-guided sight painted a small, red dot in the center of Sticky Beard's broad chest. His eyes darted to the dot and filled with fear as he realized his imminent demise.
He looked forward at Numbuh 5 and laughed nervously, "You don't have to do that, do ya, little girl? You don't have to shoot ol' Sticky Beard, right?"
His pleading tones made Numbuh 5 want to roll her eyes, "'Fraid so, sticky man," 5 replied coolly and fired, sending a ray of purple light to blast Sticky Beard. The ray's power sent the repulsive adult back through the window and out of the treehouse with a scream.
"YAY!!" Numbuh 3 shouted with joy from just inside a door to the common area, "Numbuh 5's all better!" The dark girl looked at the entrance to see Numbuhs 3, 4, and 2 watching the action.
"Was wonderin' when ya'd come 'round," 4 said and crossed his arms in satisfaction.
"Yeah," 2 added, "We were gettin' a lil worried about ya, Numbuh 5."
5 was touched, "Aw, thanks guys. If Numbuh 5'd known yall were so worried 'bout her, she'd 'uh hurried up!" Her laughter was interrupted by a groan from Numbuh 1, who had sat up and was rubbing the side of his face where he'd been struck by Sticky Beard's sword, "Nigel!" 5 cried and rushed to his side.
"What happened?" the boy asked, still rubbing his injured head, "All I remember is a dark figure and a bright purple light-"
"That wuz Numbuh 5, silly!" 3 cried enthusiastically, "She all better!"
Numbuh 1 turned to 5, who crouched blushing nearby, "Is this true, Numbuh 5?"
"Betta' believe it," she replied with a crooked grin, "Numbuh 5's back in business." Both brave Kids Next Door smiled at each other.
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A/N: Whoo, that took longer than I thought! Well, again, sorry but I don't know all the weapon names and such- hey, at least my villain had a name this time! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this continuation, I think it turned out okay. This will probably be my last KND fanfic for a while, I should really work on the story I should be working on right now, not toolin' around the Kids Next Door section wasting time. You ever get writer's reluctance? Where you just can't seem to MAKE yourself do what you're supposed to do? I got it bad, real bad, I've written four, count 'em, FOUR other fics besides what I should be writing. Go figure, hopefully I'll get over it soon. Review please, and thanks in advance for those who do!
A/N: Hi! If you didn't read the summary (which I doubt, otherwise you wouldn't even be here), this is a continuation of my first KND fic "Weapon of Mass Destruction". I wanna take this time to send a boat load of thanks to all the wonderful little freaks who sent me such fantastic feedback for "Weapon", Numbuh19, Shiawese, MysticalWoodElf, TJ Rose, Melody Hoshi Sugar, informer, and Ducket45, along with any future reviewers, and add to that a whole other boat load especially to GS2aholic for the whole continuation idea and her reviews. Thank you all SOOO much and enjoy GS2aholic's vision, I just hope I do it justice.
P.S: This fic will probably be even shorter than "Weapon", maybe nothing more than a one-shot. Also, you can probably read this without having previously read "Weapon of Mass Destruction" and still understand.
P.P.S: Stuff in these are thoughts, just like last time.
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It had been a few weeks since the incident with the gun, and things had more or less returned to normal at KND HQ, a.k.a. the treehouse. Well, as normal as things at a semi-secret force against all evil done against kids by adults run by five ten year olds can be. The missions were flowing from IHQ with a vengeance, and it was all the Kids Next Door could do just to keep up without collapsing. It was on their third mission in that many days, though it felt like hours, that something finally gave.
"Kids Next Door: ATTACK!!!" came Numbuh 1's rousing battle cry as the five children let themselves freefall along cables into the large building of their new nemesis. They stopped themselves ten feet from the floor so that they dangled mid-air, pulled out their weapons, and began firing on the monstrous mutant attack-dog set to guard the building. All except Numbuh 5. She didn't hook the brake on her cable, and instead slide all the way to the floor. She frantically unhooked herself and ran for the cover of a few crates in a corner. She watched shame-faced as her fellow teammates valiantly continued their fire on the irate and snarling canine. After only a few seconds she turned away and slumped against the crate, unable to witness the results of her cowardice any longer.
Numbuh 5 jis' can't do it no more, Numbuh 5 cried in her mind as she squeezed her eyes shut and willed her tears to keep from falling. This wasn't the first time 5 had choked on the job, ever since the gun incident she hadn't been able to draw her weapon on anything, enemy or not. It didn't matter that the blaster was of her own making, with Numbuh 2's help of course. She'd had fun in the process, for Heaven's sake! Lovingly crafting the weapon so it fit her perfectly, testing it round after round with Numbuh 1, those were some of her favorite memories since her enlistment in the Kids Next Door.
But now, after what had happened, she could barely stand the sight of the blaster because of the horrible memories that still washed over her. It was affecting her performance in almost every way. Without an effective weapon at her side, Numbuh 5 was practically defenseless when it came to a close-quarters battle with an enemy, and that was so frightening most of the time that she couldn't help but flee in terror. And that very action led her to spend most of the mission cowering behind a crate, or something to that effect. Eventually her teammates would vanquish their foe and Numbuh 5 would have to make up a plausible excuse why she hadn't been by their sides.
This night was no exception, and 5 was again subjected to an interrogation aboard the M.O.S.Q.U.I.T.O (A/N: I know I spelled it wrong, but I don't remember how it really is spelled, so give me a break, okay?), "Numbuh 5, I demand to know what the devil happened to you back there," 1 said in a steel tone, "You disappeared on us! You know as well as I do that that is NOT acceptable behavior for a Kid Next Door operative." The other three children fixed the top of her red cap, since her face was lowered and pointing towards the window, with half curious, half angry looks.
The dark girl answered the landscape passing by them instead of her leader, "Numbuh 5 was-" the lie stuck in her throat, "I just- Numbuh 5 got hit by dat dog, okay?!" She whipped around to face Numbuh 1, displaying the right side of her face mangled by several cuts and scrapes as well as a colorful bruise the size of a grapefruit. Just a little example of what complete desperation, shame, and a lot of guilt can drive a person to do to themselves.
Numbuh 1's eyebrows shot up from behind his glasses and his tone immediately changed from chastising to apologetic, "Ah, I see, Numbuh 5. That's a nasty wound, but it was honorably got." Numbuh 5 cringed at his kind words as they continued, "There's no shame in ducking out when wounded, and it would only have been a detriment to the mission itself if you'd have tried to fight."
See, Numbuh 5's mind tried to rationalize, Even if you TRIED ta' fight, wit' you not even able ta' draw yo' own weapon? Naw, it would'uh been a disaster. A detriment to da team, like da boss sayz! But she knew her inner-most heart would never accept this excuse, since that's all it was, an excuse. An excuse to pardon her cowardice, and it would hold water about as well as a tissue in her book. She wasn't wounded, she was afraid, and that was no excuse for her actions. The guilt continued to bore a hole in her middle as they landed back inside the treehouse.
:::
Despite appearances, Numbuh 1 hadn't been satisfied with Numbuh 5's evidence of being wounded by the dog. He had let her be the past few days, hoping with all his heart she'd get her act together on her own, but that seemed increasingly less likely. His shock at her "wound" was in fact genuine, and it was the last bit of evidence Numbuh 1 needed to decide 5 needed his help badly. He could tell that the bruise had been made by no monster-dog, no matter how quick or ferocious. However, he'd been reluctant to accept that Numbuh 5, his best friend, would do such a thing to herself in the name of pride, but apparently he'd been mistaken and he couldn't wait any longer.
Their workload had lightened slightly, and other sectors of the KND were fielding a lot of the missions, so the kids were enjoying a little downtime before their next job. Numbuh 1 chose this time to have it out with 5 about what was bothering her, and he attempted to map out what he would say as he drew closer to Numbuh 5's room.
He lifted a fist to announce himself, but was frozen in mid-knock at a soft sound coming from behind the closed door. Numbuh 5 was crying. Not the few, perfect but silent tears that had dripped from her eyes only a week ago, but racking sobs that made Numbuh 1 feel as if someone was trying to crack open his rib cage with a rusty knife and a set of pliers. It took him a moment to regain his composure and knock lightly, "Numbuh 5?" he called, "May I come in?"
Numbuh 5 jerked up from her prone position on her bed, smashing a pillow to her face to muffle her pain. She nervously wiped her eyes and coughed a few times to force out, "Uh, n-no, Numbuh 1. Numbuh 5's busy at da moment, could you come back latuh'?"
She prayed he'd just leave her alone with her misery, and immediately decided there was no God at her teammate's response, "Um- no, Numbuh 5. I think we really need to talk. Please- let me in."
Those last three words almost restarted 5's waterworks, but she took a few deep breaths and busied herself tidying up her room a little, i.e. throwing away tissues, and tugging her red cap far over her eyes to hide their bloodshot and tired appearance. Only when she was satisfied Numbuh 1 wouldn't be suspicious did she open her door, "'Sup, boss?" she greeted him, speaking in a low, husky tone since anything higher would make her voice crack, not the what she was going for.
The Brit walked into her room until he was in the center of it, then turned to face his teammate. She's so bad at hiding when she's been crying, 1 couldn't help but think as she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
Unbeknownst to him, the look of pure compassion that had washed over his face following that thought had instantly undone all of Numbuh 5's carefully built defenses and in seconds she was falling to the floor in a tearful heap. Numbuh 1 swiftly gathered her up in his arms and lowered them both gently to the floor so Numbuh 5 could dissolve back into the crying- jag she had abandoned at his arrival. All he could do beyond hold the sobbing girl was lightly stroke her back and hair and whisper whatever he could until she cried herself out, "Shh, it'll be alright," he murmured against her trembling shoulder, "Everything will be alright...."
5 persisted through her tears, "No, no, nuthin'll be aiite! Got it? Nuthin's gonna be aiite!" She couldn't stand the lies anymore, even- no, especially coming from Numbuh 1 and not her. He didn't understand what he was saying, he couldn't! Not Numbuh 1, he could never understand what she was going through, no one could! That only made the tears fall in even greater numbers, she was alone, completely alone.
But Numbuh 1 hadn't stopped his steady stream of comfort, "I'm right here, I won't go anywhere. You're not alone." He was simply pulling every memory he had of when his own mother and father would comfort him, but the words were exactly what 5 needed. Her sobs quieted into less painful cries, and eventually to light sniffles. Only until 5 had stopped completely did Numbuh 1 release her. She scooted only a few inches away from him, but still hung her head in shame and refused to meet his eyes. They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Numbuh 1 until he couldn't take it anymore and gently took hold of 5's limp hands. She glanced up at him in surprise, and then back down at her lap.
"What's wrong, Numbuh 5?" 1 asked, still holding her hands, "You can tell me, you know that. You can tell me anything, it's me, Nigel. We've been friends for as long as I can remember, don't shut me out now."
Numbuh 5 shifted slightly in her seated position, and felt as if she might burst right back into tears. He was right, they had been friends for a long time. She suddenly felt silly for thinking for so long she'd had to hide her pain from her best friend. The ridiculousness of the thought brought the ghost of a smile to her face, which made Numbuh 1's hear leap in his chest, but it fled just as quickly as she finally spoke, "Dere's sumthin' I neva' told you guys...." she started, but fell into silence once again. Her brain was screaming at her alternately to tell Numbuh 1 and to bury her confession until it never saw the light of day again, as she so often did.
Nigel wouldn't give up without a fight, however, "What? What didn't you tell me, Abby?" This had stopped being about the Kids Next Door and was now between him and Abby alone.
Nigel's use of her real name finally sealed her fate, and Abby let herself fall into the terrible memory from before she'd even heard of the Kids Next Door, when she was still a little, delicate baby girl of five. Her Uncle Geoffrey was visiting for the 4th of July, and Abby, her mama, and he went down to the convenience store to pick up some food for a picnic before the fireworks. They planned to meet her daddy, her brother, Micheal, and the Uno family at the field behind her church where the fireworks would be shown.
Abby was practically floating with excitement, this was her favorite holiday. Her family was huge on Independence Day, so it was always been a big deal at her house, with flags and streamers and always the fireworks. Abby couldn't wait. She let her miniature flag her mama had let her play with fly as she danced up and down the aisles while the two adults gathered the necessary provisions. As she neared her uncle in her flight down one of the aisles he scooped her up and swung her playfully in his strong grip.
"Fly, baby girl, fly," Uncle Geoffrey said merrily, his crinkly eyes twinkling up at her as he chuckled in his deep, resonating voice. Abby squealed with delight before he set her down and she continued her feverish dance around the store. A few more precious minutes, and her mama called for her to get in line so they could pay and leave. They young girl reluctantly slowed and joined her mama in line, squeezing the older woman's hand in joy. Uncle Geoffrey stood in front of them, and another man in a dark, hooded sweatshirt stood before the store's cashier. Abby, despite her euphoric daze, couldn't help but wonder how the man could wear such heavy clothes in the middle of summer.
It all happened very fast, despite what Numbuh 5 would recall later. Abby watched the black gun as it flashed from the man's pocket. Her eyes turned to the cashier, whose look of abject terror was burned into her brain on contact. And finally to her uncle as he rushed to the cashier's aid, only to be gunned down in seconds by the man in the dark clothes. She barely registered her mama's horrified scream as she was absorbed in watching her uncle fall to the floor and his blood splash the linoleum, as well as her white sneakers. She watched Uncle Geoffrey's eyes slowly dim, and then his body go slack. She once again watched the dark man as he leveled the deadly weapon on the cashier once more. The gun, the last image to sear her memory before she passed out, and then silence.
Silence reigned between Nigel and Abby as she finished her story. She didn't feel much better, but at least she wasn't crying again. Both children were grateful for that. Nigel just barely recalled that day, it wasn't much more than a footnote in his family. He remembered Abby and her mother and uncle not showing up at the fireworks, and enjoying them without her. He suddenly felt a great burst of guilt about having had fun that 4th of July while Abby had been experiencing probably the worst day of her life. He realized then that that had been the following days were when she'd started to pull away from him, retreat into herself. Her mother had been worried about her and had pressed upon Nigel to play with her often to work up her spirits. That's when the pair had discovered the Kids Next Door, and while it didn't completely restore Abby to her former self, it taught her to be strong and brave and get along with others, and her mother whole-heartedly approved.
"But that doesn't explain your actions, Numbuh 5," Numbuh 1 reluctantly said. He hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way, but he had to have an answer.
"Numbuh 5 knows," 5 replied, "I wuz gettin' ta dat." 1 smiled slightly, he knew she knew he wasn't trying to be pushy, "When Fo' brought in dat gun, Numbuh 5 kinda lost it. It jis brought it all back, you know? I couldn't take it, 'n den when he wuz holdin' it on da zoo lady.... Numbuh 5 knows she SOUNDED like she wuz fine, but she wuzn't, no suh'." She paused and settled into a more comfortable position on the floor, "Truth wuz, it only made it worse. Dese las' few missions, Numbuh 5 couldn't even bring herself ta pick up her weapon- heck, barely look at it wid'out feelin' like she gon' be sick. 'N wid'out a weapon, Numbuh 5'd be dead meat in a fight. You know dat, Numbuh 1."
"How long did you think you could go in that condition before we noticed anything, Numbuh 5?" 1 asked quietly, "You could've told us. It would have made things much easier."
5 nodded wearily, "I know, boss, I know." They fell silent again, having run out of important things to say.
"So," 1 eventually said in a more brisk tone, "Do you think you're up to drawing your weapon now? Since you've gotten everything off your chest?"
5 felt a panic flutter in said relieved chest, "Dat I dun know, Numbuh 1. Guess we'll find out, huh?"
She was surprised when 1 immediately stood up in front of her, "Yes, we will," he said before pulling her to her feet, "Where is your blaster?"
5 searched her memory, when was the last time she had been mentally well enough to look at her weapon? Or rather, when had she become so sick of it she'd banished it from her sight, and where to did she banish it? "Unduh da bed, I think. 'S kinda been a while."
Numbuh 1 released her hands just long enough to riffle under her bed and pull out the blaster. 5 promptly whipped away from it and tensed up in an attempt to quell her quaking stomach. Nope, she was definitely NOT up to it. But this didn't stop Numbuh 1, without pause he came behind Numbuh 5 and pressed the blaster into her hand, molding the limp fingers around the butt and trigger. She bit her lip and her hand refused to hold the blaster under its own power so 1 had to stay near and keep a firm grasp or the weapon would fall to the floor, "You're going to have to do this eventually, Numbuh 5," the boy said firmly but quietly.
"I know," 5 pushed out between clenched teeth, "I jis CAN'T-"
"No!" Numbuh 1 unexpectedly interrupted, "I won't have this 'can't' business, do you hear me? We both know it's not 'can't', it's won't. I've seen you use this weapon with an almost artful grace," Numbuh 5 blushed at the compliment through her fear. He could still get to her, no matter what, and she was grateful for that, "And you can do it again, I'm sure of it." He finally took the blaster from her hand and began to lead her from the room, keeping the weapon at his side. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing for the moment she wouldn't have to touch the weapon and allowed herself to be led, holding onto his hand with both of hers as they walked toward the shooting gallery in one of the many wings of the treehouse.
They were just about to leave the common area when a sudden crash of glass brought their attention to a nearby window. A large, menacing figure brushed glass of itself before rushing the stunned Kids Next Door, swinging what appeared to be a candy-cane sword. The flat of the sword met Numbuh 1's face with a slap, sending him flying onto the carpet of the common area.
"Aarrgh!" the dark figure bellowed triumphantly, "Ya' thought you'd seen the last of ol' Sticky Beard, eh?" He sauntered toward the fallen leader, seeming to have forgotten the stunned Numbuh 5 in favor of gloating over his quarry. Numbuh 1 lay on the floor, motionless.
Numbuh 5 had shrunk against the treehouse wall, petrified of Sticky Beard and ashamed of that fear. She couldn't move, even as the sweet- toothed pirate drew closer to Numbuh 1. She wanted to close her eyes or to run away, but the fear held her tightly in its clutches, making any movement impossible. She fought to keep from hyperventilating as she looked down, away from Numbuh 1's doom. There lay dropped by Numbuh 1 the object of her nightmares, and the last hope of her leader and friend. The homemade weapon had fallen in a patch of light of the late afternoon sun, and seemed to glow with familiar warmth. Numbuh 5 felt the fear in her melt away as she gazed at it. The good memories came back of its creation, its perfection, and, as Numbuh 1 had put it so poetically, the artful grace with which Numbuh 5 alone could use it.
She dove for the weapon without hesitation, scooping it up before rolling into the common area and coming up to her feet. She the blaster leveled at Sticky Beard's head as he stood above Numbuh 1, candy-cane sword rose to deal the death blow. The weapon's laser-guided sight painted a small, red dot in the center of Sticky Beard's broad chest. His eyes darted to the dot and filled with fear as he realized his imminent demise.
He looked forward at Numbuh 5 and laughed nervously, "You don't have to do that, do ya, little girl? You don't have to shoot ol' Sticky Beard, right?"
His pleading tones made Numbuh 5 want to roll her eyes, "'Fraid so, sticky man," 5 replied coolly and fired, sending a ray of purple light to blast Sticky Beard. The ray's power sent the repulsive adult back through the window and out of the treehouse with a scream.
"YAY!!" Numbuh 3 shouted with joy from just inside a door to the common area, "Numbuh 5's all better!" The dark girl looked at the entrance to see Numbuhs 3, 4, and 2 watching the action.
"Was wonderin' when ya'd come 'round," 4 said and crossed his arms in satisfaction.
"Yeah," 2 added, "We were gettin' a lil worried about ya, Numbuh 5."
5 was touched, "Aw, thanks guys. If Numbuh 5'd known yall were so worried 'bout her, she'd 'uh hurried up!" Her laughter was interrupted by a groan from Numbuh 1, who had sat up and was rubbing the side of his face where he'd been struck by Sticky Beard's sword, "Nigel!" 5 cried and rushed to his side.
"What happened?" the boy asked, still rubbing his injured head, "All I remember is a dark figure and a bright purple light-"
"That wuz Numbuh 5, silly!" 3 cried enthusiastically, "She all better!"
Numbuh 1 turned to 5, who crouched blushing nearby, "Is this true, Numbuh 5?"
"Betta' believe it," she replied with a crooked grin, "Numbuh 5's back in business." Both brave Kids Next Door smiled at each other.
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A/N: Whoo, that took longer than I thought! Well, again, sorry but I don't know all the weapon names and such- hey, at least my villain had a name this time! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this continuation, I think it turned out okay. This will probably be my last KND fanfic for a while, I should really work on the story I should be working on right now, not toolin' around the Kids Next Door section wasting time. You ever get writer's reluctance? Where you just can't seem to MAKE yourself do what you're supposed to do? I got it bad, real bad, I've written four, count 'em, FOUR other fics besides what I should be writing. Go figure, hopefully I'll get over it soon. Review please, and thanks in advance for those who do!