Oh, and I own squat, whatsoever. Even these early chapters are not mine. Disney owns the characters, Scoutcraft Piratess owns the story concept, I'm just posting and playing with them. The early chapters will just be tweaked for some minor mistakes from the original (for some reason, the apostrophes and quotations got doubled in the copy she sent me).
Get the tissues handy folks, you're going to need them... I did.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Ronless Factor – Chapter 4
Kim really hated funerals, always had, always would, in spite of every single claim given to them. Farewells, celebration of life, closure, look how pretty the scenery is. Was there any human being with a soul on the planet who truly enjoyed anything like a funeral? The way it would always be so dismal in spite of everything anyone said, the way it was utterly an end. She had almost considered not going, early that morning during the time when everything fell right back on her like a bomb, the way it had repeated itself for the past two days. But even then, she knew she couldn't do that. She would never be able to that. Because that's just not what friends did. No matter what, they would always show up at each other's funerals, if that's what it sick fate decided.
And so she was here, here at the awful cemetery that was giving no comfort whatsoever, forcing her back down into the pit that had formed at the bottom of her heart shaped like a gaping bite from some wild animal. That's all it was.
They still hadn't found the guy who had been driving the car.
She squeezed her fingers into a fist, so tight she was sure her nails would draw blood soon. Didn't matter, no one was looking. Perhaps it was best he hadn't been found. For if ever she saw him, knew who he was... she didn't know what she would do to him. But she liked to think about it, at least part of her did, enjoying wrenching off limb after limb until he knew what it was like, feeling the way she did. Like never being whole again.
At least it wasn't raining, another smear on an already ruined day where they would normally be off doing something that was so not this. Saving the world, doing homework, just goofing off. And then it could have been raining, because it would have been nothing but a little precipitation that never hurt anyone. But now she was glad it wasn't raining. Or was she? Ron would have probably liked the horrible cliché of a bleak rain shower over a funeral. Probably would have made some wry comment about it that would have had both of them hiding smirks. But it wasn't raining, just being a little windy with only a couple of clouds. And Ron wasn't at her side making stupid comments, but locked up in that horrible wooden box, already in that hole, soil like an earthquake already being...
It wasn't real. It wasn't plausible. There was no type of logic in the world that could make any sense of this frustration she felt. Ron wasn't supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be somewhere else, preferably nearby, and not hidden away in... Any moment now, he was supposed to run up with some excuse about being late. He should have called her up days ago, or randomly shown up on the doorstep to play video games with her brothers, or been there at school even though she hadn't but would have come right over after classes to whine about a teacher being unfair. He was supposed to do that because that's how things were supposed to work. That was the routine, established like law over the course of years. And now she just couldn't reach for the phone and call him up because he wasn't there. Even though he was supposed to be. It wasn't right.
Already the people around her were beginning to mill uncomfortably about, thinking of things to say to Ron's parents, or just chat, talking about nice the funeral had been. Funerals weren't supposed to be nice! As for herself, she still couldn't move. Too weak, not a refreshing change from the zombie state she had been in for the past few days. Ever since she had woken up the second time at the hospital with the fervent prayer that everything had been nothing more than a horrible dream, and that her dad really hadn't said anything about Ron getting killed. Even then no one had really said much. Her parents had initiated the necessary counseling talk, and she guessed she had responded well enough. Get it all out was the rule. Don't let it build up inside. What did they know? Her parents had been hurting, too. And as for getting it all out... that wasn't possible. There was too much to get out, all of the things a best friend brought. You just couldn't lose not only your boyfriend, but your best friend ever, and suddenly be able to get everything out and be okay again.
At least Monique had been able to admit that much. Monique. Kim bit her lip, trying not to breathe in her own tears, disgustingly salty, and forced her eyes to lift for a brief second to scan the closer headstone-littered grounds for Monique. Not enough time. But Monique was so far the only one that had any sort of real empathy for what had happened. She had been there, had survived. Only a few scrapes and bruises. Monique had been right there, open arms for the hug of the century. The one that didn't do anything of real importance but was nice just the same, if only for granting the wish that someone could be there.
Yet Kim could only guess at what Monique was feeling. Monique had been the one driving the car.
Kim let out another sob, choked with her tears, and kicked at the grass. Pain shot through her, she was still so sore. She didn't blame Monique for driving, never would in a million years, and that seemed to be all that Monique could think of. It wasn't fair that they both had to feel this way, sick and broken. Kim had been the one to call shotgun. The one who had to race Ron to the passenger seat. Apparently the passenger seat had been safe.
No.
She wanted to just fall to the ground, rip at the grass and the dirt and whatever lay down there. She had never been more sorry for anything in her life. Make one stupid decision and pay for it, that's what she had to do. But she didn't want to, not if he had to pay for it as well. Be there, down there, wrapped in burial shrouds and wood and now dirt. Gone, gone, gone.
Ron wasn't supposed to be there. Not in a coffin. Locked up from the world.
Tim and Jim had actually been having nightmares about that. They weren't taking this much better than she was. No one was. So why did she have to feel this way? She wasn't the only one who had ever lost someone.
Sometimes the brain just wouldn't accept logic.
"Kim?"
Someone approaching, proof that she couldn't be ignored. Instinctively she brushed away what tears and smeared make-up she could and made herself look up. Mr. Stoppable, Ron's dad. What a way to make herself feel worse. She sniffed again, attempting to wipe away more tears as she did. "Hi, Mr. Stoppable."
No. How could she say something like that? And how could she be acting this way, like only she mattered? Good manners and traditions of what was right and wrong attacked. This man had just lost his only son. Yet not even that was sinking in, even though she had, of course, talked to them over the past few days. Sort of. She tried again. "I'm so sorry."
He nodded, seemingly drained of any tears. "Thank-you, Kim. I... I just guess I am new to all of this." Ashen-faced, like a ghost. He seemed to want to say something, but didn't know how. She couldn't blame him. "Kim, we just wanted to... to say thanks for all you've done. You were... a great friend to him."
Suddenly she didn't want to hear any of this. Mr. Stoppable didn't seem to want to say any more, but for some reason that was unclear to both of them, it had to continue.
He reached out, gently placing an arm on her shoulder. "I want you to know how much he cared about you. Though... I'm sure you probably already knew that. But he did. And you were a great help to him, all these years. Always there for him."
Now she was going to start crying again. She nodded. "I know. I just... really miss him."
"It wasn't your fault. I know that's not going to help with anything, but it wasn't." He drew his arm back, and for a long time he was motionless. Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket. "We... Ron's mother and I, we think you should be the one to take care of Rufus." He pulled out the little naked mole rat.
"Rufus," Kim whispered. She readily put out her hands to take him. Rufus was so warm, she had never noticed. He barely looked up at her, just instantly cuddled into her palms. Not exactly the lively little guy she had always known. Not that she could blame him.
"We thought Ron would want you to have him," Mr. Stoppable continued. "Besides, I think he'd get bored living with us."
"Thanks," Kim said. So weird how less... sad she felt holding Rufus. A single connection to Ron. She stroked a finger down his head. He wasn't really responding, but that didn't matter.
"He had always wanted a pet," Mr. Stoppable said sadly. "For years."
Kim nodded. There didn't seem to be anything else that needed to be said.
Someone else approached to talk to Mr. Stoppable, once again leaving Kim the ignored little girl in a maze of graves. She tucked Rufus into her purse, waiting for... something. Nothing else to do but wander away. Maybe go back to the car, where her family was no doubt waiting. No, she could see her mom off in the distance, talking to Ron's mother.
How could they be surviving this?
There were so many other people who had come, she didn't half of them. Probably random relatives of Ron's. That annoying little cousin of his. Somehow the kid didn't look quite so annoying right then. And...
Kim felt sick. Bonnie. There was Bonnie, sauntering along, dressed in some little designer black thing, faithfully attended by a few other girls from the squad. How long had they been there? Kim hadn't exactly been paying attention. But... how dare she. In a single flood the sickness vanished, replaced by fury coming from a place even Kim didn't know of. How dare Bonnie show her face at something like this. She had never, ever liked Ron. She couldn't...
Across the grounds Bonnie locked eyes with her, and there appeared something like fear.
Bonnie hadn't even come over, not once, during the past few days when Kim had avoided school. Bonnie couldn't be here right now. She had no right to be.
Kim wasn't sure who moved, whether it was her who charged over to Bonnie or Bonnie who made her own way over. But suddenly there they were, face to face, and Kim fighting everything inside of her to just... she didn't know what she was going to do. Yet it was all there in her mind, Bonnie making some snide comment in that voice of hers, about not having to deal with that stupid Mad Dog routine anymore... She stared at Bonnie, crying, wondering what in the world she was going to say. How she was going to accuse Bonnie of... whatever.
Except Bonnie didn't have that usual look on her face. She looked... sincere. Like a normal person.
Kim couldn't think of anything to say.
And then Bonnie's arms were around her in a very un-Bonnie-like way. Kim froze for a moment, then sunk into the hug. Part of her was wondering why Bonnie was doing this. But it was so uncharacteristically sincere.
Bonnie let go, eyes red. "Kim, I'm so sorry. Really. For everything I ever said to him."
Kim managed a nod. "Bonnie, I––"
"Just... just come back, Kim. When you're feeling better. We need our captain." The other girls nodded.
She may never hear Bonnie say anything like that ever again. She watched as Bonnie and the other girls took off, apparently too uncomfortable to remain, and wondered when she would ever feel better again. She was almost sick of being reminded of this one little thing. Who would be next to remind her?
"Hi, Kim."
She barely heard the tiny voice, sounding off from somewhere beneath her. One of the tweebs? No, a different voice. One she recognized just as well. She looked down, and nearly went into shock. "Wade?"
Wade, the real Wade, looked up at her, face more miserable than she had ever seen. It was the real Wade, wasn't it?
She felt like she was going to faint. "Is it really you?"
He nodded, sniffing. "Yeah. I asked my mom to bring me here. I guess... we were always supposed to meet offline. I just didn't think it would be––"
"Like this," Kim finished. Wow, what a way to do it. "I'm really glad you came..."
He nodded.
Poor kid, Kim suddenly thought. Where was the little super-genius boy that ran her website and made her cool gadgets? But this Wade, here, he was just another little kid. Like her brothers. Just as hurt.
She couldn't even begin to stop herself from bending down to give him a hug.
She should go talk to Kim. Right now. While she was all alone and really in need of someone. Monique fiddled with the clasps of her bag, trying to keep from grabbing another plastic package of tissues out, like some crazed tissue addict. Wow, but she must really look a mess. She gingerly reached up to the bandage on her forehead, the one covering her six stitches. That definitely wasn't helping. Well, she shouldn't be so concerned with appearance right now, not when everything else was going wrong.
She and Kim had planned this, that they would both come to the funeral. They had done it aloud, as if there had been an actual question about either of them coming. This was Ron. There was no question. Ron's funeral, so of course they both had to come. Especially Kim. Kim had been his best friend, even sort of his girlfriend, in the last little while. Who had ever heard of romance working out that way? Not even two weeks after that cute little moment at the prom with the lights and the music and all that kissing. But she, Monique, she didn't really need to be there, did she? In spite of the fact that she knew she had to be there. Ron had been her friend as well. Not nearly as close as he had been with Kim but... they shared interests that Kim ran away screaming from.
She hadn't even approached Kim once the entire day. What was she so afraid of? She had spent hours with Kim over the past few days, just talking and crying and whatnot. So she shouldn't be afraid of anything. She had told Kim what it had been like, waking up, realizing what had happened. Ron dead. All splattered with memories of the crash, of turning the wheel, not turning far enough...
Maybe if she had turned sooner, none of this would have happened.
She gave in and pulled a tissue from her purse. She couldn't be afraid of Kim. Not now. Just because now there was a funeral and it was suddenly so horribly real. It would be so easy. Kim needed a friend right now, and that's what she was, right? She could do it, before everyone went home.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to take a step. Great. Wrong direction. But now she couldn't stop. Her eyes dropped to the ground, further blocked by the tissue. Until––
"Ow!" Pain shot through her already sore body as she crashed into something hard. Metal. Lights flashed in her mind. No...
"Oh, wow, I'm sorry!" a voice replied, breaking somewhere into her thoughts. "Are you okay?"
She looked up, shaking away the thoughts. No, it wasn't there. This was just a... sick old cemetery. "I'm okay. I... I'm the one that ran into you." A boy, sitting in a wheelchair, looking at her most apologetically. Oh, she knew his name. Just couldn't... Ron's one friend. Video game boy. "Felix. Sorry, I couldn't think of your name. Felix." She gave a fake smile. How stupid was she being? First, driving that stupid car and now crashing right into people.
He waved his hand, also trying to fake a smile. "No, it's fine. It's just... crazy today."
"Tell me about it," she muttered. She wasn't going to start crying again, now? Right in front of something. Especially this guy. He and Ron had been great friends, from what she had seen.
He nodded slowly, the red in his eyes deepening. "You're Monique, right? Kim's friend?"
"Yeah." Kim's friend. Good word to explain what she had done. Including all that inner jealousy, third wheel crap. She shuddered as some emotion stabbed itself through her heart. "Monique. Nice to see we actually know each other."
Felix's hand twiddled with the controls of the chairs. Not really doing anything. Just... touching, like a weak attempt to comfort nerves. "It's... nice to see you here. Though––no, not really nice. I'm sorry I said that. It's not nice at all."
"Nice would be not having to be here." Monique fished around for another tissue––the last one had fallen in the collision.
"You... you were in the car, weren't you?"
He had to bring that horrible memory up.
He glanced down, gasping with a quick intake of breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up for you."
"It's okay." No, it wasn't. Why did she say that? "It was... my car. I was the one driving." Here it would come. The looks, silent accusations pressed with false pity as a facade for what she had done.
Except...not from him. He looked at her, differently, with a glaze of horror that was somehow... genuine. Actual sympathy. "Wow," he breathed. "I'm sorry. That must be terrible."
Well, he was probably thinking differently inside. But she was too far gone in this day to care. All that was left was pain and the requirements to make awkward conversation. "You two were pretty close, weren't you?" Oh, a brilliant thing to say.
Felix looked down once more, muscles visible tensing. "Yeah," he finally said, returning his gaze to her. "Ron was... awesome. My first friend since moving here. Probably the best guy I ever knew."
Monique nodded. Ron had been pretty cool, despite all his shortcomings. "I guess... I guess he was one of those guys that you had to like. There didn't seem to be any other option. Just to survive him."
Felix actually laughed, a strange sound that seemed to have no place in a cemetery. "I never thought of it that way. That's a pretty accurate way to describe him. You know, I kind of have to wonder if he even appreciated everyone going through all this effort to give him a funeral. They don't... find that morbid, do they?"
Morbid. In celebration of the word, Monique laughed. "Now I just feel sick."
"Yeah." His smile quickly faded as he sighed. "I am really going to miss him."
"Me, too," Monique said softly. "I really am."
For a moment they just sat there, two lone figures in a mess of graves and people and the wind scattering dust everywhere.
"I'm not... I'm not keeping you from going anywhere, am I?" she finally asked.
Felix shrugged. "No where in particular. Am I? You seemed to be heading off somewhere."
Oh, yes. Mission Find Kim. Somehow make a talk about that. "Sort of. Someone I needed to talk to. So... I guess I should go."
"Guess you should."
She gave him a little wave as she started off. "Hey, thanks for talking, Felix."
"Sure thing, Monique."
Not like the talking had really helped. But it had at least delayed her another few moments from Kim.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reposters Notes – You know, that scene with Bonnie is the most heart wrenching point for me, it set the whole tone for what that day was like. Seeing my BonBon like that, even before I became a hard-core Bonnie-phile, was just so moving. No other character from the show could have gotten that kind of reaction from me, set me blubbering like that. If she could feel that way, then just think how everyone else was feeling. It's scenes like this that tell you EXACTLY why I needed to see this story continue on!