"...take care of my family... keep my brothers out of trouble. I know you can save them, Ron. Please, pleas save them. love you, I'm sorry." The green light was pulling her up, and he was trying desperately to her away from it. She was just smiling sadly. "I have to let you go," she whispered.
"No," he cried. "KP don't let go, we can do this just—" Before he could finish, his fingers slipped from her grasp. He landed on his ass rather ungracefully on the ground, watching in horror as she disappeared into the green light.
He wanted to kill the first thing he could get his hands on. The distinct screech of monkeys filled his mind, and he didn't even get annoyed. He gave himself over to the coolness that tingled in his veins, and the world around him came into sharp focus. In what seemed like a moment, he was in front of one of the giant machines that was destroying his town. With an enraged roar, he attacked it, methodically destroying it. Somehow, Shego appeared at his side, helping him destroy the terrible things.
Wade somehow managed to contact them, letting them know that he'd infected them with some sort of virus that would deactivate them all over the world.
With that knowledge, he celebrated the victory by demolishing the rest of the machines. All over the world, the machines from Lorwardia were reduced to scrap metal.
In the mean time, his beloved best friend and girlfriend had managed to escape imprisonment. He could see the hallways she navigated, irritated by the length of them, and the confusion that resulted in the maze of paths. She reached a control room and started to break everything she could. Snapping every wire, breaking every instrument, and systematically destroying everything within reach. The aliens found her, though, and restrained her easily. She struggled fruitlessly against them, and he watched helplessly as she was strapped down. Then the screaming began.
Suddenly he was on the ground again, watching the enormous ship fall, almost slowly, toward the ground. He screamed for help desperately. He knew instinctively that KP was on that ship, and it was going to crash and everyone on it was going to die. He couldn't let her die...
The resounding boom and the intense shock wave drove him to his knees, and he shielded his eyes from the brightness of the explosion that followed the ship impacting the ground.
In an instant he was on his feet, running. He could see the smoke rising, but it took him forever to reach the mangled, burning space craft.
He could see the wreckage spread over hundreds of yards, and the intense heat from the burning was making it difficult for him to breathe. He plunged forward anyway, not noticing the heat anymore.
Body parts. Green ones. Broken instruments.
Blood. So much blood.
His stomach lurched. "KP!" he called desperately.
He ran around a huge piece of debris and froze. More body parts. A leg. Broken Kimmunicator. A mangled hand. Pieces of shiny, black cloth, burning. Her toga, his mind thought incoherently.
More blood.
Oh God.
Just when he thought he couldn't see anymore...
A spray of blood on the gigantic wall. Red hair, pale skin stained with blood. Missing limbs. Her body, emaciated and badly burnt, hanging limply from where she'd been—
He threw up, heaving over and over again. His stomach convulsed painfully.
The beam had trespassed her body completely, and blood made it metallic red.
He knew she was dead.
"No." The word fell from his lips over and over as panic rose in his chest, suffocating him. "KP," he choked out with a whimper. Then the dam broke. "KP," he wailed, collapsing to the ground, sobbing.
Darkness overtook his world.
Ron bolted upright, his chest and stomach constricting and convulsing. Sweat covered his body, but a sinister cold overtook him, making him shake uncontrollably. He bolted off the couch and ran for the bathroom, heaving until his chest burned and his stomach had nothing left to reject. Shakily climbing to his feet and almost collapsing with the weakness that suddenly came over him, he dizzily splashed water in his face, rinsing his mouth.
Stumbling blindly, he took the stairs through the main floor and the second, barely having the strength to crawl up the flight of stairs to the attic room where she was sleeping. Somehow he made it up there and stumbled across the room, slipping under the covers and pressing himself as close to her body as he could.
Her body. It was warm and complete. Her breathing was slow and even, and her heartbeat thumped away contentedly, the proof that everything had just been a horrible, horrible dream.
With a sigh, she turned on to her back, her face turning toward him. Her breathing didn't change, and she was just as relaxed as she'd been moments before. Her eyes were closed still, but he knew she was awake.
She simply turned toward him, pushing him onto his back and laying her head on his chest as she curled into him. "Good night Ron," she whispered into his chest. "I love you."
He didn't respond except to squeeze her close. Her breathing, slow and deep, helped him regulate his own. He lay awake for a while, listening to her be alive, running his hands through her soft hair, over the soft skin of the thigh that she'd inadvertently thrown over his legs in her effort to be close to him.
He finally breathed a shaky sigh of relief as the last of the horrid images his mind had conjured faded away. She was alive, and she was here. He saved her. She wasn't in the demolished alien ship, she didn't die, blown to pieces and impaled and burning like some weird fucked up roast. She was alive and whole, here in his arms in his room.
He purposely drew a slow breath, timing it with hers. Yes, she was breathing. Bruised and battered and exhausted, but breathing... surviving, like she always did. She was a survivor, a fighter. She'd managed to live through the damn apocalypse and she did it virtually unscathed.
He let his chin rest on top of her head, smirking a little as she gave a tiny grunt in protest. He kissed her head to pacify her, letting his eyes slip closed.
She smells like... life, was his last conscious thought.