Rain fell in zigzags along the window, creating strange designs on the pane. Red hair seemed dulled in the subdued light, and green eyes were closed as she laid her head against the cool glass. A door opened downstairs, and then closed. She didn't move from her window seat, and she didn't speak as footsteps fell against the hardwood stairs.

"Kimmy?" Tim Possible called as his head appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey! Your phone's broken."

"No it's not," Kim replied, her voice cracking. "I unplugged it."

"Did you turn off your Kimmunicator too?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't really want to talk to anyone, Tim," Kim replied, tears choking her. "I just want to be alone."

Tim didn't reply right away, he just stood watching his sister in her window seat. She was curled up in a ball, her knees pulled up to her chest. She wore lavender sweats and a gray tank top, which were both wrinkled and unkempt. "How long has it been since you showered?" Tim asked, taking a final step onto the hardwood floor of her loft. Kim shrugged, and sighed. Fog plumed before her face on the window. She reached up and smudged it away, closing her eyes again. "Mom wants you to come over for dinner. Come on, Kim."

"No."

"Fine," Tim replied, covering the distance between them in a few quick steps. He tossed her over his shoulder before she could fight back, and carried her through her bedroom and into the bathroom. He placed her on the counter next to the sink and reached over to turn on the shower.

She flipped her bangs out of her face and scowled. "Look, Tweeb, I can still beat the crap out of you."

"Try it," Tim replied, pulling the shower curtain open. With that he flipped Kim over his shoulder again and set her softly in the shower, fully clothed. She sputtered, and opened her mouth to argue. "Believe me; the water will only help your outfit. Now, I'm going to leave you to get undressed and really shower. I trust you can do it." Kim glared up at him. "I'm your brother, Kimmy. I'm not afraid to do it myself."

"I'll be out in twenty minutes," Kim replied, rising to her feet. "And I'll probably beat the crap out of you."

"I look forward to it."

Tim Possible was sitting on the couch when Kim came down the stairs. She was dressed in blue jeans and a black tank top, with her hair still damp. She wasn't wearing make-up and her shoes were untied. "Mom will kill me if I bring you home like that," he said, taking in her in. "Kim, you can't blame yourself for this."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she dropped into a chair. She didn't reply; only started to cry quietly. "I don't want to go home," she whispered. Her brother didn't move, he just sat there, staring at her. "I don't think I can."

"You can, Kimmy. Mom needs you to." With those words, Kim started to sob heavily, red hair falling in her eyes. "Mom needs you to come for dinner. She needs you to keep going, and not give up."

"She said that?"

"No. But that's what we see in her eyes every time she looks at us. She needs you."

"She needs you too," Kim whispered, meeting his gaze.

"She has us. She needs her Kimberly."

Kimberly spoke softly, her tears still falling, but quietly. "I'll go, Tim. But I can't promise that I won't cry."

"Neither can she."

Kim vaulted across the distance between them and fell into her little brother's arms; thought now he was much bigger than ever before. Seventeen years old, and now he was the bigger one, comforting her, protecting her. Red hair spilled across his shirt as she buried her face in his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, wishing he could shelter her from the past.

"Go, Kimmy," Tim whispered, "Finish getting dressed. We have to get going."

"How dressy are we talking? Evening gown good enough?"

With a laugh, Tim replied, "It's perfect. Thanks." Kim vanished up the stairs, leaving Tim to hope that she could make it through dinner without having a breakdown. Tim's pager went off, and he clicked it on. "Jim," he said as his brother appeared on the screen. "Kimmy is changing, then we're on our way. Is everything set?"

"Absolutely," Jim replied, a smile brightening his face. "I can't believe you actually got her to agree to come!"

"It wasn't easy. Next time the world needs saving, you're on your own, bro."

"Yeah, yeah," Jim retorted. "Mom will be home in about an hour. Will you be back by then?"

"Yup," Tim said, glancing back to the stairs. He could hear Kim moving around as she dressed, her footfalls soft, and her movements fluid. "See you in a bit, bro."

She appeared at the top of the stairs wearing blue jeans and a light blue button down. Red hair fell over her shoulder, and green eyes were lined with a soft sage to bring out the tint. Tim rose to his feet and grinned. "Ready, sis?" he asked. She nodded, although she looked petrified. "It will be fine, I promise."

The front porch lights were on when Tim pulled in to the driveway of the Possible house. Jim waited just inside the door, and opened it as they pulled to a stop. Kim stepped out of the passenger door and looked up at the house that she had spent her whole life in. Lights burned in all the rooms, even her old one. It gave off a friendly glow, warming the chill in her heart, spilling over her like chamomile tea.

She climbed the steps and enveloped herself in Jim's arms, reveling in his security and tenderness. "Hey, Kimmy," he whispered, holding her tight. Tim walked past them, and waited to close the door. After a brief moment on the porch, they stepped into the house. "Mom will be home in a bit. Dinner is almost ready; can I get you a drink?"

"Vodka rocks," Kim replied, shrugging out of her coat. Tim hung it in the hall closet, then removed his as well. "Where was Mom?"

"Work," Tim replied, moving into the living room. "She went back a week ago."

"I can't imagine returning to a job that I had shared with my soulmate for almost forty years alone…" Kim whispered, following him into the living room.

"Speak for yourself," a male voice said from the chair in the corner. Kim turned to find Ron sitting comfortably in the chair. "Hey, KP."

"Ron?" Kim asked, her eyes widening. "When did you get back from Rome?"

"This afternoon. Wade got a hold of me; said it would be in my best interest to be at your house at seven. Here I am." He rose to his feet and crossed the room. "I've missed you."

She held her ground, refusing to yield until he was within arms length. Once he was before her, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her. She sagged against him, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh, Ron," she whispered into his chest, her red hair cascading over his green button down. "I'm so sorry."

Those words seemed to open up a crater in Ron's heart as he cradled her tightly, closing his eyes against the outside world. "You don't have to apologize," he whispered. "I've never blamed you. I'm the screw up, remember?"

He meant it as a joke but Kim didn't laugh. She stood there, wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat in his chest. Headlights flashed across the wall and the whole room tensed as Kim pulled away to shift her eyes to the front door.

Dr. Jean Possible stepped through the front door, wearing her ever familiar lap coat and stopped in her tracks. The room filled with all the words unsaid for the past two months. Jim and Tim held their distance while Ron took a step away from Kim to allow her and Jean their time.

Slowly Kim turned to face her mother, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red. Jean Possible stood stock still, her bag discarded on the floor at her feet. "Oh, Kimmy," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. She stretched out her arms and welcomed her daughter into them. Kim practically collapsed into Jean's arms, and the two of them slid to the floor of the entry hall.

As they sat on the hardwood floor, Jean stroked her daughter's hair and held her tight. "I'm so sorry, Mom," Kim whispered into Jean's shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Shhh," Jean replied, rocking Kim back and forth. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

"It was my fault, Mom."

Jean pulled away enough to look at her, green eyes overflowing with tears. "No. Never. You did what you could. That was all we ever asked of you."

"But Dad was counting on me," Kim sobbed, "And I let him down!"

Jean leaned back, holding Kim's head in her hands. Green eyes flashed silver as she said sternly, "No! Kimberly Anne, you did NOT let your father down! You saved THE WORLD!"

"But I killed my FATHER!" Kim screamed, collapsing. In two months she had not said those words aloud. For those two months she had left them bottled up inside, allowing them to eat away at her rotting insides. She began to shake violently as she gasped for air.

Behind her, Ron made a move to help, but froze. This was about Jean and Kim, but a part of him died when he heard Kim cry. Behind Jean, Tim and Jim flinched but did not move. Jean stroked her daughter's hair, crying quietly. "Baby girl, you didn't kill your father," she whispered, leaning down to kiss her hair. "You had a split second choice to make, and you chose the world. Your father understood that. He loved you, and he needed you to save the world."

"Mom," Kim whispered, breathing heavily from where she lay on the floor. "I should have saved Dad."

"Saved him for what? If you hadn't stopped that satellite, none of us would be here today," Ron spit out without thinking. Kim and Jean both looked up startled, as if they had forgotten that they were not alone. "Sorry," he whispered, stepping back.

"No," Jean Possible replied. "Ron's right, Kimmy. If you had saved James then we wouldn't have each other." Kim's green eyes did not shift from Ron at all, even when Jean turned away. He held her gaze for a long moment, and she felt something cascade over her. Something akin to comfort.

Jean released Kim, allowing her to stand up. Ron did not step forward again. "Baby," Jean continued, rising to her feet. "I'm going to go see to dinner. Relax, please." Kim nodded, turning away from Ron to nod. "Jim, Tim, some help?" Jean said, motioning to the kitchen.

Both men vanished behind their mother, leaving Ron and Kim alone in the open foyer.

"Ron," she began, taking a step forward. "I don't know…"

But she did not finish her sentence before Ron had his arms around her. She curled herself into him, letting her face disappear beneath a curtain of hair. He reached up and tucked the rogue strands behind her ear. "You shouldn't hide that face." She smiled faintly, and tilted her face up to look at him. "My God, I've missed you," he whispered.

"I've missed you too." They were silent for a long moment before Kim continued, "How was Rome?"

"I don't want to talk about Rome," Ron replied, his voice deepening with a tone that she could not place. "I want to talk about you." Questions filled her eyes, but she did not speak. "I can't figure out how I've lived through the past two months without you."

"Ron," Kim whispered. "Please, don't."

"Don't what? Don't tell you that I'm an idiot sidekick that relies on his mole rat to save the world? Because that's what I've been doing."

"Don't tell me that you're in love with me," she replied, closing her eyes.

He leaned his forehead down to meet hers and closed his eyes as well. "I won't. Not yet,' he said softly, sighing. A tear slid down her already red and swollen cheek. "But I will."

"I know, Ron, I know."

"Hey, guys," Tim called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

"Coming," Kim called faintly, pulling away slightly. "We'll talk about this later, right?"

With a sharp nod, he turned to lead her into the kitchen. But he never dropped his arm, it stayed around her waist.

Long after dinner was over, Kim sat perched on the counter by the sink while Jean washed the dishes. "Mom," Kim said, tossing red hair over her shoulder. "What is it like being at work without Dad?"

For a long moment Jean just scrubbed at a dish. Then with a sigh, she replied, "Like I'm missing an arm, or a leg. I used to think of something and he was one step ahead of me, always with what I needed. Now I feel like I'm a step behind."

"Mom," she continued, picking up a glass to look through the contorted image. "I don't think I can go back to work."

"Well, Kimmy," Jean said, looking up from the sink. "You need to do what you think is best. If you don't want to be part of Team Possible, then don't. But don't do it because of what happened. Do it because you want something else." Kim put the glass back down and looked at her mother. "Do it because there's something else that is more important than the team."

"There's nothing more important to me then Ron and the boys, Mom. But I can't help but…"

"Second guess your every choice? Wonder if the next thing you do with destroy someone you love? Shake the fear that some time in the near future, you're going to be faced with a decision that you can't make?" Kim nodded. "Now you know how it feels to be a parent. Your father knew how hard it must have been to make that choice. He's made it before."

"But he made the right choice," Kim said.

"He didn't think so at the time, but yes, he did. The same goes for you." Jean closed the dishwasher, and leaned against the counter beside her daughter. "Only you can decide what you want, Kimmy. All I can do is support that."

"Thanks Mom," she replied, leaning against her shoulder.

"Anything else bothering you, baby?" Jean asked, turning her head to plant a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"Ron," Kim whispered. "Ron Stoppable."

"How does Ron bother you?" Jean inquired, her voice calm.

"Ron doesn't bother me, really. It's how I feel about him."

Jean Possible turned to face her daughter head on. "How do you feel about him, Kimmy?" Kim rolled her eyes. "No, seriously. When you guys decided to take a break after you graduated, but never actually seemed to stop being close… It threw all of us for a loop, kiddo. So, tell me! Tell me!"

"Mom," Kim growled, rolling her eyes. But Jean could not be swayed, she maintained her eye contact with Kim until her daughter glanced away. "I love him, Mom. I do. I knew it then, but he's so much better off without me. I'll just get him killed."

"I think you have that wrong, Kimmy," Jean replied. "I think Ron will get himself killed without you."

"Everything I touch goes sour, Mom."

"Kimberly, I will not stand for that at all. You've saved thousands of people, thwarted hundreds of foes. You have changed the world since you were a pre-teen. You can do anything! Even save Ron from himself."

"Maybe," Kim replied. "I just don't know if Ron wants us back… Or if we can even do it."

On the opposite side of the kitchen, around the corner, Ron sighed. Kim might not know how he felt, but he did. He always felt that he would be holding her back if he stayed with her the way that they were. But on his mission to Rome he had come face to face with his true self, literally, and had realized what he needed. He needed Kim.

But now was not the time to cross that bridge, first they had to heal Kim's aches. Perhaps after she felt better they would broach the subject. Until then he would settle for being her friend.