Author's note:
This has no relation to my other story currently being written ("Hate"), so you need not read that one in hopes of it clarifying this story (though of course, if you're interested, by all means, do read Hate). It's rated M because, though I have no outline of how this story is going to go, it will get pretty dark/sad/depressing pretty early on. My writing may not correctly give the vibe of depression, but it's sort of the intention.
The first chapter, actually a prologue, is a bit short, but I feel it accurately sets up the story in a fair manner.
Any reviews would be deeply appreciated, and as this story is being written in a completely different manner than my other ongoing story, if you see any errors (which is more likely in this story than Hate), please inform me and I will fix it. This may be updated slightly more frequently than my other story just because, in general, these chapters will be shorter, so keep that in mind.
As always, enjoy.
These characters do not belong to be, but to Disney.
"Call me when you get home, okay," spoke Kim Possible, smiling at her best friend, Ron, who'd been hanging out with her a large majority of the day.
"Sure thing, KP," he brightly replied, grabbing his jacket off the coat rack (though it still wasn't snowing, it was, for early December, pretty chilly outside) and trotted out to his parent's car, who suggested to him, when they called earlier that night, that he shouldn't walk home when it was as cold as it was outside. It wasn't a particularly long walk, and Ron almost refused the offer, but a begging Kim and Rufus made sure he saw the light.
Kim hadn't spoken to his parents that night, but from her view, standing in the door frame, she could tell that they looked like picking up Ron was not a problem at all. Though the windshield was blocking them from her complete sight, she saw Mrs. Stoppable grinning and talking to her husband, who was sitting in the driver's seat, perhaps telling him a joke. Mr. Stoppable himself wore a good-natured smile on his face, and greeted Ron as he pulled the door open and stepped into the vehicle. Kim saw Rufus scramble out of Ron's pants pocket and into his coat pocket, which provided better insulation. It was times like this that made Kim wonder if Rufus ever regretted not being a member of a species with fur.
Mr. Stoppable spoke to his son a little, and Ron replied, still wearing a goofy grin on his face. He then looked straight at Kim through the windshield and waved, prompting his two parents to do the same. Kim blushed slightly, embarrassed to have their total attention so suddenly, and waved back. Mr. Stoppable then backed the car out of the driveway, and like that, they were gone. Kim stood in the door frame until the vehicle completely disappeared into the dark distance, feeling very satisfied of the time that she and Ron had spent together that day.
Closing the door, she hugged her chest, feeling chilly (Holding the door open for two straight minutes in December was so not smart, she thought to herself), but before she could walk forward, her brothers ran past her and re-opened the door, causing another slight breeze to blow into the already less-than-warm house.
Stumbling a little, she grabbed the coat rack to steady her balance, an annoyed expression on her face. "Dweebs, watch where you're going."
"Sorry, no time," came a reply, sounding like Jim, not even bothering to look back at her, and then shut the door again, albeit more harshly then it was shut before.
Not even wanting to get involved, Kim distanced herself from the door. No time? Why's that, she thought to herself, though, she admitted, if it involved more rockets and/or rocket fuel, she really didn't have any desire to know. So not my problem; so not concerned. She sincerely hoped it would stay that way, too.
Walking into the kitchen, she saw her mother on the phone, who, in turn saw her, and smiled. Cupping the transmitter part of the phone to block out their voices to the caller, she whispered, "It's your father, honey. He's sorry he missed dinner and says he might not get back until quite late tonight. Nine, maybe."
Nodding, Kim replied, "Give him my love, mom."
"Will do," her mother gently said and removed her hand to speak with her husband once more.
Grabbing a medium-sized apple off the counter, Kim went up to her room, thinking about the wonderful Friday she had. She and Ron went to Bueno Nacho after school, met up with Felix and Monique, and the four of them shared a late post-lunch together. Kim thought it was interesting, as Felix and Monique never had much contact with each other, how they interacted.
Unfortunately for Kim, a large majority of the conversation they had was on the topic of wrestling, which enthralled both Ron and Monique (I will never totally understand that girl, the teen red-head thought to herself), and mildly intrigued Felix, who watched 'occasionally.' Kim drowned most of the conversation out and thought about new selections of clothing at Club Banana, but the 50 minutes went quicker than one would expect and for the most part, despite the dull conversation, she found everything peaceful enough. Always good-natured, Felix ended up paying for everyone's meal despite their protests, and claimed it was an early Christmas gift, or, in Ron's case, early Hanukkah gift. Apparently he later admitted to Ron he really had no idea what else to spend the money on, and that it was a 'spur-of-the-moment' thing, but that didn't make the act any less kind.
Overall, Monique seemed rather impressed with Felix and expressed enthusiasm in the idea of the four of them hanging out again, and slyly hinting that maybe just her and Felix could hang out, though Kim was sure she was the only one there who caught it. It was a great lunch, and both Felix and Monique departed happily, leaving just Ron and Kim (plus Rufus, who, out of everyone who ate, probably enjoyed his meal the most – that being whatever foods others didn't finish, which was a more than modest amount).
They just chatted for a little while, be it about their small amount of homework that weekend or Drakken's latest take-over-the-world attempt, and before long, they were at Kim's house, relaxing in her room. I can't even remember half of what we talked about, Kim admitted to herself, but I know we had fun. As annoyed as Kim could sometimes get with Ron, there was a reason why he had been her best friend for so long: he was always fun to be around. If people at school knew this, he'd undoubtedly be more popular, but Kim liked it the way it was, and he was just her's and could hang out virtually any time she wanted to, as long as it didn't conflict with Felix's gaming time.
She continued eating her apple as she jumped onto her mattress. Today was great, and she knew tomorrow would also be great. It was a blissful, almost unexplainable, joy she felt. It was as though everything was right in the world. Kim glanced at the phone on her nightstand while she considered what life would have been like if she had never met Ron. Though, of course, she could never truly know, the outcomes she did come up with did not at all please her. All that mattered was that she did meet him, and if everything went well, they'd be friends for many, many years to come. With this comforting thought in mind, she drifted off to sleep, the half-eaten apple falling out of her right hand, miraculously landing in a waste bucket next to her bed.
Outside, unnoticed and unbeknownst by Kim, it had just started snowing.
"Ann, honey, I really don't think you're thinking this through," came a voice, which shattered Kim's slumber. What? Did I fall asleep? So not, Kim thought incredulously, but the evidence was deeply compelling; she had, indeed, fallen asleep. The clock now read 10:35 pm, and snow was falling heavily outside, which looked amazingly beautiful against the majestic, black sky.
She stretched out her arms and yawned, hearing the voice again. "I can't do that. Let her sleep and we can tell her tomorrow. Save her the stress." The words were ominous enough to warrant investigation, but it was her father's tone of voice that concerned her the most: he sounded very stressed and worried, which was not common for James Timothy Possible. The fact that his voice could be heard in Kim's room, and her mother's couldn't, surprised her slightly also, leading Kim to believe her mother was on the other end of a phone call. He'll wake up the Dweebs if he doesn't quiet down, and I doubt he'd want that.
"Well, of course I'm concerned, Ann. I know they are," her father replied to whatever her mother had said harshly. That cinched it; Kim's parents rarely, if ever, bickered, and so Kim jumped out of bed to go see what was going on. Where is mom, the hospital? She doesn't usually work shifts Friday nights, at least not recently.
She crept downstairs quickly and quietly, again hearing her father speak. "I guess, but-" He was apparently cut off by her mother, as he ceased talking. Standing just outside the door, Kim wondered if she should barge in or wait until they were done speaking (with parents in the middle of a discussion, sometimes it was a hard decision). She chose the former when she heard her father say, "Speaking of that, what's his condition, honey?"
Grabbing and turning the doorknob, Kim pushed open the door, surprising her father. He was wearing his light blue pajama top and bottom, and his hair was slightly askew. It looked as though this call woke him up just minutes before. "Dad, what's going on?"
Before he answered her question, she heard her mother's voice, through the phone, telling her father to give the receiver to her.
Wiping a small amount of sweat off of his forehead with a handkerchief in his left hand, her father replied, "Are you sure, honey? Perhaps we could-"
"Give the phone to Kim now, James! Please," her mother shouted into his ear.
Cringing, he quickly handed the phone over to her, and positioned himself behind Kim, putting his now-free right hand on her shoulder. Feeling anxious, she put the phone to her ear.
"What's the sitch, mom," she asked calmly, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, which were fluttering freely.
"Honey," her mother said, and Kim could tell instantly that her voice sounded very strained and worried, "something terrible's happened."
"What," Kim asked again, her throat constricting and feeling the continuation of the contents of her stomach jumping wildly.
"Ron and his family were in a bad car crash on the way to their home," replied her mother, who sounded as though she was sniffing away tears on the other end of the line. "We're not sure yet, but," she hesitated, then carried on, "he might not make it."
Kim, upon hearing this, dropped the receiver and it hit the floor with a light cling. Her heart rate increased rapidly and her formerly blissful disposition, her happiness that built up by spending all day with Ron, shattered completely.
She heard, over and over again, not her father consoling her (not that James Possible truly believed his daughter was listening anyway), but the last five words her mother had said, for the next two minutes.
"He might not make it. He might not make it. He might not make it. He might not- "
