A/N: Between November 27th and December 24th, this crazy spin on two holiday classics will be unveiled. Here's Chapter 2. Enjoy!
Chapter 2—Lights of Long Ago
"Hicka-bicka-boo!"
If that had not awakened Kim from her slumber, the blinding white light that filled the room a second later sure did. She ripped the covers off her body and sat up in bed with a growl, "Tweebs!" As if on cue, her twin brothers came soaring in through her bedroom window, surrounded by smoke and wind. They floated downward and landed calmly at the foot of her bed, wearing identical grins.
"What do you want?!" Kim spat out. "I thought I made it pretty clear downstairs that I wanted to be left alone! Not to mention normal people are usually sleeping right about now!"
"Yeah, normal people are—" began one twin.
"—but as you can see, we're not normal people," finished the other.
"Yeah, no kidding," Kim said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and moving towards her brothers to shove them out of the room. "Skipping two grades into freshman year, what a load of bull—"
She stopped with a gasp. For when she grabbed one of them by the shoulder, she felt nothing but empty air as her hand went right through him. She recoiled her hand as if she had been burned, stumbling backward away from them and sitting back on the bed. The grins never left the boys' faces.
"Okay…what's the sitch?" Kim asked slowly. She glanced behind their backs, "You flew in here without rocket packs, and my hand just went through your shoulder!"
"As you can probably guess, we're not really Jim and Tim Possible," one of them said.
"We're actually the Ghosts of Christmas Past!" the other concluded with a proud nod.
"Oh no…oooohhh no," Kim said, shaking her head in disbelief, pressing her palms against her eyes. "No, this is just like that book…" She pinched herself as hard as she could, inhaling sharply from the slight pain—but not waking up from what she had concluded could only be a dream.
"You about done?" the twin that resembled Jim asked, raising his eyebrows.
"'Cause we've got a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it in," added the other spirit.
Easy there, Possible, Kim said, taking a long, slow breath. Just play along, and if anything happens, remember you know sixteen styles of kung-fu…which aren't gonna be much help against ghosts you can't even touch! She got up off the bed and looked down at the two spirits again, "Okay, 'ghosts'…um…why are you in my bedroom?"
"We couldn't help watching your little blowout this evening—"
"—with the guy you're supposed to be in love with—"
"—and we just figured that you—"
"—might need to be reminded—"
"—of how important Ron Stoppable has been in your life."
"Ooookay, then," Kim nodded, looking from one to the other. They sure were acting like the tweebs. Their gazes moved from her to the open window.
"You better bundle up, Kim—"
"Yeah, it sure is cold out there."
"Wait, where are we going?" Kim asked, reaching for her pink bathrobe and tying it around herself.
"We're just gonna have a little look-see—"
"—at some of the Christmases—"
"—you and Ron have spent together."
"Do we have to?" Kim said with a wide yawn as she put on her slippers. "I'm really wiped out from—"
"We don't have to," Spirit-Jim said, taking her by one arm and leading her to the window.
"You do," Tim finished, securing his hold on her other arm. Before Kim knew it, she was lifted off her feet, levitating several feet off the floor. And with another shout of "Hicka-bicka-boo!", Kim and the twin spirits soared back through the open window and out into the late winter night.
"You sure you wanna do that, Stoppable?"
Ron, who had been in the process of chucking Kim's ring out the window, banged his head on the window frame as he yelped and whirled around. He backed away from his bed when he heard that intimidating and all-too familiar voice. Sitting casually on top of his comforter was a person he had hoped he'd never run into again post high school graduation…Mr. Steve Barkin.
"Mr. B!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing the lump that had begun to form on the back of his head. "Whaa—I—how d'you get in my house?! What are you doing here?!" He gasped and gripped the sides of his head, "Oooh, no…I've heard about this happening! Did I forget to turn in a paper last year, so I really didn't graduate and now I have to repeat senior year?! What kind of sick and wrong torture is this?!"
"Relax, Ron, you didn't forget anything from last year," the militant figure said, watching Ron begin to hyperventilate. "Well—that is, if you did, I sure wouldn't know about it."
"Sure you would, you've been my—" Ron thought this over quickly—"only teacher for the past four years. Trust me, you'd know."
"I haven't been your teacher for the past four years, Ron, because I'm not really Mr. Barkin," the muscular man on the bed said matter-of-factly. "I've been sent down here to you from…well, ya know." He jerked his head upward.
"Dude, you look like Mr. Barkin, you talk like Barkin, you—" He stopped and turned his head to look at him. "Did you just call me 'Ron'? The Mr. B I know always called me 'Stoppable', even before I made the football team."
"Guess there is a difference between me and this Barkin then." The man cleared his throat, "I'm Steve, AS2—meaning Angel Second Class. I'm 172 years old and in command to the Big Guy above," He gestured accordingly. "And you're gonna help me earn my wings."
"Allllll—righty then," Ron said cautiously, sitting on the bed next to him. This was all beginning to sound vaguely familiar…kind of like that movie he watched over at Kim's house. He tentatively reached out a hand and poked the well-built man in the arm repeatedly. "Hey, you liar, my hand won't go through you! If you were a ghost, my hand would go into you, just like in those movies!"
"Who said anything about ghosts?" Steve asked, shrugging Ron's hand off of him and folding his arms across his chest. "I'm an angel…your guardian angel to be exact."
"I have a guardian angel?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows until they disappeared into his blonde bangs.
"Yep, everybody's got one, but very few actually get to meet theirs in person before they—er—buy the farm, or whatever you people say," Steve said, before getting up to survey the young man next to him closely. "I've been watching you, kid. I watched you the day you were born—your mom was in labor for twenty-two hours and finally had to have a C-section before you came squirming out. I saw you take your first steps, get your first tricycle, and I watched you go to Pre-K for the first time and meet a very special little girl." Ron looked up at him in surprise, and Steve nodded, "Yeah, Ron…I know about her, too." He cocked his head to one side as he looked down at Ron's right fist. "Aren't you gonna put that in a safe place?"
Ron opened his fist, where the gold band with emeralds around it still lay. "What's the point?" he asked, slipping the ring into his pocket. "That same little girl I met in Pre-K wished tonight that that she never met me, and frankly I don't blame her."
"Oh come on, kid, I've been watching you two all your lives and you've been in plenty of fights," Steve said, patting Ron on the shoulder.
"And I've also messed up plenty of times on the missions," Ron added, crossing his arms as if he were cold. "Too many times, actually. You know if it wasn't for me, Kim would probably be a full-time agent for Global Justice by now, working with the best of the best instead of an idiot like me. She'd probably be going to college halfway around the world instead of here, which she only did because of me." He stared out the window, "The sky's the limit for Kim…she can do anything…and the only thing I've ever done is drag her down."
"You know that's not true," Steve said in a voice so stern that for a moment, Ron did believe Mr. Barkin was in the room with him. "You just don't realize all that you've done for her. If it hadn't been for you—"
"If it hadn't been for me, Kim—everyone would have been a lot better off!" Ron finally shouted out, getting up from the bed with his back turned to Steve. Staring outside at the swirling snow, he muttered, "Guess things would be better if I hadn't been born at all…"
"Come again?" Steve asked from behind him.
"I said I wish I'd never been born!" Ron yelled in exasperation.
"Oh geez, you teenagers can be so melodramatic it's…" Steve trailed off, a faraway look crossing his face. "Wait a minute…that's not a bad idea…that's a great idea, actually…" He straightened up and marched over to where Ron stood, "So you sure about that? Is that what you really want?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Ron mumbled under his breath.
"Okay then," Steve said. He opened his arms wide, "You got your wish. You've never been born…"
And with a great, freezing gust of wind from the window, the room went pitch dark.
"Whoo, that was fun, huh Kim?" the twin Ghosts of Christmas Past asked Kim, shortly after they had flown into an open, brightly lit window. With a sufficient lack of grace, the ghosts landed Kim on the wooden floor where she clumsily fell to her knees. She sat up, pushing her long hair out of her face.
"If you tweebs ever make me do that again, I'll—!"
"We're not the tweebs!"
"Oh, sorry," Kim said, brushing herself off. Once she had taken in her surroundings, she realized that they were in what looked like a very small classroom. Young children of about four or five were running around playing with dolls, trucks, finger paints, or blocks while a teacher monitored them patiently. "What are we doing at the preschool?"
"Ah, preschool," Jim said with a dramatic sigh, "A time of innocence—"
"—a time of joy and play—" Tim added.
"—a time for naps—"
"—a time when the foundations of friendship are laid," Tim finished, just as he pointed over to the block area. Kim inhaled sharply as she saw a very young girl, her long auburn hair in pigtails, passing blocks to a little boy with blonde hair, big ears and a few freckles on each cheek.
"Oh my gosh…that's us."
"Yep," the ghosts said together. Kim watched as Ron held the blocks steady while her younger self put the last of the colored pieces of wood on top. "You guys were a team from the very beginning."
"We always have been," Kim said quietly, as her gaze fixated on four-year-old Ron Stoppable. He was so small, his ears almost too big for his head, his face round and cherubic, all features that puberty had eventually taken from him and altered considerably. But his eyes, his deep, chocolate brown eyes, now dancing with excitement at their finished block tower—after all these years, they were the one thing about him that had never changed. It was beyond awk-weird to believe that the eyes of that little boy were the same brown eyes that captivated her heart the night of junior prom; the same eyes that could make her laugh or bring her to tears with a single look, that forced her to come out and reveal her deepest secrets. After all these years, Kim could only think of two instances where Ron's eyes had lost that sparkle. Once was almost two years ago, when she had been seeing Eric exclusively before discovering who he really was…and the other was only mere hours ago, when she had said she wished they had never met…
"Boy, good thing Ron can't see you looking at him like that—" Jim began, chuckling.
"—or he'd be totally creeped out!" Tim finished, laughing as well. Kim blinked and looked back over at the sniggering ghosts, blushing as red as her hair. How long had she been staring? Jim hastily composed himself and led Kim closer to where the two children were playing.
"I'm the king of the world!" young Ron yelled triumphantly, standing on top of the block tower with his arms in the air. His moment of euphoria was short-lived as the blocks crumbled beneath his weight, and he jumped off with a yelp as the blocks came tumbling down. Kim rolled her eyes and snorted. Sure it's cute now, but wait 'til he makes an entire building explode… She looked and saw that her younger self, rather than get upset, was laughing as she helped her friend up from the floor. "Ah well, it was fun while it lasted."
"I'll say," said young Kim, pushing the blocks away and sitting up on her knees. "I can't wait until next week—Christmas, you know! Daddy puts up the tree and we sing carols, and then Nana and Grandpa come over!"
Kim smiled reminiscently, "Grandpa used to read to us from a collection of short Christmas stories. Some were sad, but some were also really funny. And Grandpa would always do the voices of the characters." She sighed, "It used to be my favorite part of the whole evening."
"But your Grandpa died suddenly when you were seven," Tim said somberly, and Kim hung her head and nodded silently.
"And Ron came to the funeral and sat with you," Jim added.
"I think it was the first time he ever saw me cry," Kim said with a soft laugh. "It probably freaked him out a little."
"But he still stayed right beside you," Jim said nodding, "Got your back, no matter what."
"So what do your mommy and daddy do for Christmas?" young Kim asked her friend excitedly, bouncing up and down on her heels now.
"It's not Christmas at my house, Daddy calls it 'Ha…noo…ka'," Ron said, building a mini tower with a few blocks in front of him. "We have this shiny thing with eight candles in it. Every night, Daddy lights one of them and he and mommy sing some funny words."
"Wow, that's weird," young Kim said, wrinkling her nose.
"I know—but then I get a present!" Ron said excitedly. "I think I got eight presents last year, but I'm not sure. Someday I hope I can light the candle just like my dad."
Kim couldn't help smiling, as she recalled their first Christmas/Hanukkah together as a couple, watching Ron light the Menorah. She had told Ron he sounded "so sexy" when he prayed in Hebrew, emitting a blush from his pale cheeks.
"Cool!" young Kim exclaimed. "I hope I get eight presents this year!"
"Wanna come over for 'Hanooka' this year?" Ron asked, and Kim's face lit up.
"Yeah! And you could come over for Christmas Eve and watch Snowman Hank with me!"
"Who's Snowman Hank?" Ron asked, clearly getting excited.
"He's on only the bestest Christmas cartoon ever!" little Kim exclaimed. "You're gonna love it!"
"You guys became pretty close over the years," Jim said as the voices of the children began to fade out.
"Especially over the holidays," Tim added. "Every year since then, you'd go over to Ron's for Hanukkah and he'd come over for Christmas."
"He can't get enough of Snowman Hank, that's for sure," Kim said with a smirk.
"But even though you guys celebrated differently, it didn't matter," Jim said. "If anything, it made you better friends than ever."
"Well, wish we could stick around, but we've got a very interesting Christmas to show you next—"
"—when you guys were a little older—"
"—and a little closer." Taking her by the arms, they stepped back through the open window and out into the night…
"What the heck did you do, Barkin?!" Ron shouted shrilly, his arms stretched out in front of him as he attempted to feel his way around in the now dark attic.
The angel sighed, "I'm not Barkin, I'm—"
"Yeah sorry, Steve," Ron said hastily. He had barely taken three steps when he tripped and completely wiped out over what appeared to be a cardboard box. After straightening up, he walked head long into a wall of boxes, which thankfully did not tumble over. What in the name of Snowman Hank is going on?
"Well, you're probably wondering what all these boxes are doing where your room was," Steve's voice came from the darkness.
"Yeah—yeah, that thought did cross my mind," Ron said sarcastically, picking himself up from the floor a second time, just as a light from a flashlight came from Steve's direction.
"Might need one of these," Steve said, handing Ron the conjured flashlight.
"Okay, so what are all these boxes doing in my room?" Ron asked, thoroughly annoyed.
"It's because you were never born," Steve said simply. "You don't exist, no identity, no life, no government building explosion to worry about—"
"Yeah, yeah okay, I don't exist, which makes a lot of sense since I'm standing right here!" Ron yelled. "C'mon Rufus, let's get outta here buddy."
Silence.
"Rufus? Rufus?!"
"He's not here," Steve said still more simply. At that, Ron ceased his frantic search and rounded on the angel, glaring at him.
"This isn't funny, dude," he said icily. "Where is Rufus?"
"Well, since you were never born, you never purchased him from Smarty Mart," Steve explained. "He's probably living with a different owner—if he's even still alive at all."
Completely stunned, Ron sat down on one of the boxes. No Rufus, and probably not even alive anymore. This hit him hard; Rufus was his special little buddy, his Naco eating partner, his pal when everyone else was too busy to hang out. The little mole rat had a huge place in Ron's heart—surpassed only by one other person. And she was probably the one person benefiting the most from his wish to have never existed.
Wait, what am I saying? Ron thought, shaking his head in his hands. If I didn't exist, I wouldn't be here! I'd be lost in some weird, limbo-type place. He looked over at Steve. This guy's taken one too many trips to Crazytown. I gotta get out of here and prove him wrong. He got up from the box and made for the attic door.
"Whoa, where're you going?" Steve asked, following him down the stairs to the second floor.
"To see my folks downstairs," Ron said. He stopped at what should have been Hana's nursery, but instead found what looked like a study. He felt a sharp pang once again, No Han either… "My mom will make us both some tea and then maybe I can get my head on straight again."
"Ooooh boy," Steve said under his breath as they trekked down the stairs to the main floor and headed for the kitchen. There were no lights on in the living room, and only one coming from the kitchen.
"Who's there?!" called a harsh, frightened voice from the kitchen. "I've got plenty of sharp objects in the room and I'm not afraid to use them!"
"Mom, relax, it's just me," Ron said, laughing at his mother's severe overreaction. The tall, thin woman standing next to the fridge whipped around and screamed out loud at the sight of both Ron and Steve.
"Get out!" she screamed again. "I don't care how you got in here or what you want, just get out!"
"Mom, it's me, Ron!" Ron said loudly, completely bewildered at why his mother was acting like this. "I live here, remember?"
"No one lives here except me and the man of the house!" his mother said, pulling open a drawer in the counter. Fishing around, she pulled out three sharp knives and pointed them in their direction. "Now leave!"
"Mom, don't you know me?" Ron asked desperately.
"I didn't want to have to do this!" she yelled warningly. She yanked open the broom cupboard and pulled out a long rifle, firing it at the ceiling, Ron and Steve both jumping about ten feet in the air.
"I suggest we split," Steve whispered out the corner of his mouth. Ron nodded and they both made a mad dash for the front door, wrenched it open and sprinted out into the freezing night air. They continued to dodge Mrs. Stoppable's mad knife-throwing skills and rifle shots clear across the block before they turned the corner and out of sight.
The twin ghosts landed Kim lightly in another classroom, a bit larger than the preschool complete with desks and a chalkboard. Christmas decorations adorned the bulletin boards and borders on the chalkboard, and even a fake clump of mistletoe hung in the doorway.
"Look familiar?" the twins asked together.
"Vaguely," Kim said slowly, recognizing that this was definitely Middleton Elementary. Rather than sitting at their desks working diligently, the children were spread out all over the room, talking loudly, eating and drinking the provided refreshments. Kim again saw a younger version of herself, her long hair tied in a high ponytail, and Ron, clearly looking older but still with his cherubic features in tact. She also recognized a few of the other children besides herself and Ron, including a blonde and freckled Tara, Walter Nelson pre-braces, and Josh Mankey. Kim grinned, He was always really handsome, even as a kid…
"Your fourth grade class Christmas Party," Jim clarified. "Your teacher, Ms. Peterson had one every year, with decorations, music and, of course, a gift exchange."
"You picked Walter Nelson," Tim said, emphasizing his name with sickening adoration, and Kim rolled her eyes, wondering what she had ever really seen in Walter.
"And Ron picked you," Jim said—but Kim had gasped out loud before Jim had even finished his sentence, the memories finally tumbling into place. Now she remembered what had happened at this party. A high-pitched giggle soared over the sounds of chatter, and Kim turned slowly to see a brunette with her hair done up high and a permanent scowl on the face of who could have only been a ten-year-old Bonnie Rockwaller. Kim glared at her, her fists clenched. Oh yes…she remembered exactly what had happened at this party…
The ghosts looked at the expression on Kim's face, then at eachother and nodded. "So, I guess you figured out why we brought you to this point in time," Jim said casually while Kim still seethed in Bonnie's direction. "Ron had gone shopping with his mother and bought you a really nice present."
"A white party dress," Tim added, "and he put it in that gift bag." He pointed to the shiny bag, red with green Christmas trees on it.
"Now the object of your disgust over there," Jim continued, jerking his head in Bonnie's direction, "never really liked either of you from the start."
"'Cause Ron was a loser—"
"—and you were her competition." They watched as Bonnie went to refill her plastic cup with grape juice, giggling with a few of her lackeys.
"So she decided to ruin the gift exchange—"
"—for the both of you."
Kim groaned loudly as she watched Bonnie walk, with her full cup of grape juice, towards where all the gifts were situated. Everyone else was gathered around the Christmas tree, oblivious to what was happening. "Why are you showing me this?!" she rounded on the twin ghosts. "It was bad enough having to go through this the first time, now I have to rewatch it again?!"
"'Cause something happens here that you need to be reminded of—badly," Jim said. With another giggle and a small "oops!", Bonnie tipped the grape juice towards Ron's gift bag—
"Stop!" Kim cried out in vain, but it was too late.
"Wouldn't have been able to hear you anyway," Jim reminded. The juice splashed inaudibly into the red and green Christmas bag, containing the white party dress Ron had meant for Kim.
"Now that," Tim said, shaking his head while Kim covered her face with her hands helplessly, "is hard core evil…"
Ron and Steve waited until they were a good five blocks away from his house before starting to walk at a normal pace again. Now that he was no longer running for his life, Ron realized just how cold out it really was, and he hadn't grabbed a jacket. Steve must have noticed this as well, and flicked the air around him almost lazily. Ron suddenly felt the cold leave him and the air surrounding him grow to a normal room temperature, almost as if a heater had been turned on inside of him. He looked up at his guardian angel and managed a half smile, "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Steve said; they were heading into downtown Middleton now. "Your mom's a feisty one, isn't she?"
"Not really," Ron answered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I've never seen her act like that. Not just with waving the pointy objects around, but…she acted like she didn't even know me."
"Not completely shocking, considering she doesn't have any children since you were never born," Steve responded, and Ron rolled his eyes as if to say "sure, whatever."
"And the rifle—man, that was just sick and wrong!"
"Well, you're gonna see a lot of sick and wrong things from now on," Steve said. They approached the entrance to downtown Middleton and looked around. Ron's brow became more furrowed in concern the longer he looked, for this was sure not the downtown he was used to seeing. It seemed as though half the stores were closing up, and the rest of them appeared unkempt and grimly dirty like the setting of an old film noir. People walking down the street, who were usually rather friendly at this time of year, were cold and distant, keeping their heads bowed as they headed through the blowing winter air.
What the heck happened to Middleton? Ron thought to himself. He didn't have to look far, however, to find his answer. Looking at the large sign above him that usually read "You Are Now in Middleton," he gasped. For the once welcoming sign now read:
Welcome to Drakkenton! Owned by Dr. Drakken and Shego, Supreme Rulers of the World
Steve gazed up at the sign as well, nodding in understanding. He turned, looked into the shocked face of his companion and said, "Told ya so."
A/N: Hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Please read and review!