UnStoppable Flash
Disclaimer: Kim Possible trademark and all characters belong to Disney.
DC Comics and all characters belong to Warner Bros.
Previously on 'UnStoppable Flash'
"Gotham. That's where Lynn is."
He just watched her expressionless face, lit with moonlight for a while. "I just wanted to say that if... I don't come back from this..."
Cause of Death: While many contusions, external and internal injuries were sustained by both Stoppables, definite cause of death is cervical dislocation, by an unknown third party.
"We lost enough people as it is."
Ron's face darkened. "So I can't hand him over to the Polizei. Whoop de fucking doo. Let's see what will they do when I leave him broken on the ground."
Ron growled slowly. "You finally got my name right." He smiled with a grim look. "You are afraid of me."
He tried to crawl away frantically as Ron advanced on him. "Nein! NEIN! Stay avay! Der Dämon der Hölle!"
Wade screamed this time. "Ron, that's ENOUGH! He's not worth it man, not worth it at all!"
My task, entrusted to me by the Mistress. To test, to judge, to ascertain.
"Lynn, I know you can hear this. I am coming for you." The hooded teen spoke with a grave tone.
"You didn't care about mercy when you all attacked us! And neither will I."
Why Kimberly, I am testing you to see one fact. If you are worthy of your latest and strongest desire. Power.
Only you, and you alone can stop him.
"I would ask you what you are doing in my city, Flash, if I already didn't know." Batman leveled an icy glare at Ron.
"I don't need to go on much longer. I'll finish this tonight."
"YOU WILL PAY!" Ron's fist filled up with red energy and descended on Gemini's face, all set to destroy the face, the bones and the brains when it met them.
"I am a small price to pay for justice!"
"Not for me. Never for me!" Kim broke the hold on Ron's hand and rushed forward at him. She hugged him for her dear life.
Chapter 9: Rōnin Part I - The Fallen and The Broken
The front door to the Stoppable residence opened with a low yet ominous creak. Two redheads stepped inside softly as they could, as if it was some sort of sacred ground. For both women who stepped inside, the interior of the suburban house seemed dark, bleak and oppressive.
Reality was that it was just a cloudy day outside. And the house itself was adequately illuminated by daylight. Suffice to say, the real trouble the redheads were having was to do with in which precedence they came inside.
It looked as if people had just left this house. There was a coffee mug standing on the coffee table near the television. If one were to look inside, they'd see a black dust on the bottom of the mug, indicating that the black liquid had evaporated over time. The local newspaper, The Examiner's Valentine's Day edition was laid open on the same coffee table.
Both redheads sadly looked around. Kim Possible finally turned to her mother and nodded softly. Anne just nodded back. Kim ascended the stairs and went for Ron Stoppable's room.
Anne slowly made her way to the kitchen. She knew this kitchen as well as her own, many a times she and Andrea have had sat there, talking about both important and unimportant stuff. And now there she was, sitting alone in her friend's kitchen, without her.
They had had a great friendship, the two mothers. While their professions were highly different than each other's, their convictions were mostly the same. Protect and nurture their families, raise their children as best as they could. Andrea was definitely a cut above in discipline than Anne, but she had never shied away from showing her love for Ron either. Anne had always admired that in her, ability to keep her son in control most of the time while keeping his love.
That job now fell on her. It was a duty that she and James took on without hesitation or reservation. As far as she was concerned, Ron was her son anyway. In more ways than one, both Kim and Ron had been more to the other's family than just friends.
But at the end of the day, she was not Ron's mother. James was not his father. And the sweet, funny, kind boy she knew was reduced to a shell of a teenager. For the first four days after Kim brought him back, he was weak and almost suffering from systemic organ failure. Physically, he was supposed to be fine. Yet his body was trying to shut down constantly. Furthermore, his incredibly elevated metabolism had slowed down to a crawl, even slower than a normal human's.
The hospital's psychologist had suggested that he was suffering from a broken heart syndrome. It was possible, yet it felt more than that to Anne. Somehow, Ron was broken in more ways than just the tragedy he was facing should've caused.
Luckily, it had subsided after that. Kim had been by his side, feeding him, helping him sleep, or simply holding his hand. Ron's symptoms slowly went away and he started to get his strength back. Yet, even after precisely two weeks after his return, he had yet to talk. He was a complete ghost. He ate only after Kim almost force-fed him stuff as well. He was gaunt and thin and that was what broke Anne's heart most.
She was failing Andrea and John, yet neither she nor James had any idea what to do.
At least, the legal process had went off without a hitch. Earlier that day, she and James had signed the papers making them the legal guardians of one Ron Stoppable. His uncle had pressed for the guardianship himself, but James had put a stop to that pretty quickly.
"I don't care if you are his most favorite relative, but he is our son. Ronald will always be one of our family!"
His conviction had finally convinced Jeb Stoppable. Plus, the family court judge was not keen on the idea of tearing Ron apart from his school and send him to Upperton. So in effect, Ron was now her son, legally.
That of course meant the need for him to have more than the spare mission clothes Kim kept for him at her closet. They were going to convert the guest room into a room for him. James had taken him and the twins for a trip to Pizza Party Torium. If nothing else, it seemed like Ron's basic instinct of hunger was somehow able to break through his fugue state.
She and Kim were here to pick up his stuff, and then lock down the house for the foreseeable future. Her eyes caught the edge of a particular cabinet in the kitchen. Anne knew that was where Andrea kept her cookbook. Also something else.
She opened the cabinet, took the cookbook and pulled something from under it. It was a small folder with a binder, as if it was going to go bigger over time. She read the title, smiled a bit as a tear rolled off her eye, and then put the binder in her handbag.
A loud thud came from above. Anne rushed upstairs to find Kim sitting on the floor of Ron's room. She looked mortified for some reason. Anne followed the trail of her line of sight, and then understood what was the problem.
There, on the semi-darkened floor of Ron's closet, lay the dark red bodysuit with the lightning motif. Rather disturbing fact was that it was stained with an even darker red, almost black patches on it. It was easy to deduce what that was. Blood.
Kim shivered from the sitting position she had taken on the floor. "Is... Is that... Ta..Tara's blood?" Her voice quaked as she asked.
Anne sighed, took Kim's arm and got her to her feet. "It's just blood Kim."
"Mom... It's.. !" Kim gasped.
"Whatever happened, happened. Some blood on clothes won't change anything." Anne's expression turned softer. "Come on honey, you need to be strong for both of you until Ron gets back on his feet truly. Go ahead and pack his daily clothes. I'll handle this part."
Kim did exactly that. Her breath got hitched once more when she saw something else as well. A silver, six-sided star. Coated in a layer of blood on one side, it was laying on Ron's table. Forlorn, looked like it was ripped off its chain in a rush. Kim had never seen this on Ron's person. Yet it looked and felt important. She got a hold of herself, and put it in her pocket to care for later.
Anne finished packing all the things Ron might need for the foreseeable future. They had about 4 big suitcases to carry, but somehow that didn't daunt neither of the ladies. Kim just took all 4 of them in one hand and hauled them to the car outside. Without even straining visibly.
Which reminded Anne about the 'talk' they needed to have, mother-to-daughter. So far, they didn't have the slightest chance. This was the first alone time they had since Kim's awakening.
They closed the curtains, locked all the doors and windows and closed the house up.
Kim realized they were not heading for their house. Anne drove the car to a quiet picnic space in the parks nearby the suburban area.
"Kim, we need to have that talk. It can't wait anymore."
Kim just nodded absently and sat in the passenger's seat as her mother turned off the ignition. It was quiet as it could be expected. The teenager started off.
"Let's start with the obvious. You are not just a brain surgeon , are you Mom?"
Anne sighed. "I've been nothing but that for a long time. You need to understand, this story I am going to tell you was an affair of a time long before I even met your father."
The Daughter
Middleton, Colorado
30 Years Ago.
Anne Nomaly walked into her house and threw her keys into the bowl on the hallway. She was off to meet some of her friends, but didn't want to leave her father without any news when he came home. Stephen Nomaly was a very doting father, understandably so when considered he was a single father. His work as a mathematics professor was legendary amongst the math circles, but it also kept him from spending too much time with her daughter.
So Anne would prepare a light, easily re-heatable dinner and a note for him on the table when he came back. That was their usual routine during the summer, and Anne was having all the fun she could have before starting high school.
At thirteen years of age, she was already used to a certain degree of independence. She also knew how to take care of herself. Both physically and mentally. Ever since she could remember, learning came easy to her. Her studies have been a breeze. So much so that she was taught advanced calculus and algebra by her father ever since she was ten. And physical stuff, inexplicably, was even easier. She could copy moves and reflexes she had only seen once, down to the last detail.
Something felt wrong as soon as she walked into the living room. Someone was inside the house. She knew how to defend herself. She had watched enough Fists of Fury and Enter the Dragon to completely mimic Bruce Lee. It sounded silly, sure, but it had served her well enough against muggers who tried to shake down her friends.
She slowly let her backpack slid on the ground and looked around. She crept up towards the kitchen and opened the drawer where knives were kept.
"Dad! I'm going to get the dinner going, you want something specific?" She called out as loud as she can, to shake down whoever was inside.
She took one of the cutting knives out and turned around as fast as she could. A very distinct looking woman was standing there. A blonde woman with a strikingly classical beauty, to be exact. She was also as tall as a supermodel, and unlike a supermodel, she was built and defined in muscular structure.
The outfit was the real kicker though. The woman had a sort of ancient looking battle dress on her, with red straps covering her entire torso going down all the way to her knees. The outfit was complete with shoulderpads, red-colored wristguards and a totally 'groovy' tiara on her forehead.
Anne, shocked as she was, just flung the knife with as much power as she could muster. The woman didn't even bat an eyelash as she deflected the knife with her left wristguard.
"Impressive. Most people can't even throw a knife with accuracy, let alone having its blade face outwards as you did." She had a slight accent which Anne couldn't put her finger on, but it sounded distinctly foreign.
Anne grabbed two more knives from the drawer behind while keeping her eyes on the woman.
"Who are you and what are you doing at our house?!" She was somewhat afraid, after seeing the nonchalance on the woman's face as she deflected the first knife. But she didn't let it creep into her voice.
The blonde woman slightly tilted her head, as if taking stock of a prize fighter. "It's uncanny, how alike you look to her." She took a few steps forward as Anne backed up onto the kitchen counter behind her. "You need not be alarmed further. I am not here to hurt you. In fact, no harm will come to you when I'm near you."
Anne didn't drop the knives. "I'll believe it when you leave the hell out of the house lady. Back up or else!"
The tall woman smiled at the girl in front of her, then covered the distance between them almost instantly. She grabbed the knives on their tips and flung both of them up into the ceiling. The knives stayed there as they kept swaying from the force of the fling.
Anne was frozen with fear as the woman grabbed her arm. It was a gentle hold though, and led her to the kitchen table.
"Please be seated Anne. We need to talk."
Anne managed a snort as she sat on the chair. "How about a name first?"
The woman nodded as she took the opposing chair. "How true. Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself." She clasped her hands on the table. "My name is Hippolyta. It's a pleasure to finally meet you Anne."
Anne just nodded absently. "Okay. So, what are you doing here?"
The blonde woman, Hippolyta, smiled again. "Simply put, I am here to get you to your mother."
Anne growled. "My mother is dead. She died in childbirth! If you want to kidnap me, at least come up with a decent lie."
Hippolyta sighed and leaned back. "Your father lied to you. Most probably to protect you. Your mother is very much alive. And it is my duty to bring you to her."
"Let's say I believe your crazy talk, where would you be taking me?"
"The Paradise Island. Home of the Amazons, my people."
"Holy shit Mom!"
"Yes, well, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Believe me when I tell you Kimmie, this story will get very uncomfortable and very awkward really fast."
Themyscira, Paradise Island
"You still could have told me." Anne bristled as she walked the length of the decidedly ancient yet amazing streets of the Amazon's city. It was, of course, far and wide not a city in terms of modern world, but in its most basic and archaic meaning, this was a city-state of ancient times. Which fit as well, because according to what she had seen and told, the inhabitants were decidedly immortal themselves.
What had made her angry was the simple fact that Hippolyta had forgotten to mention that she was the Queen of this island nation formed by females only. The cheeky response of the queen was that she had seen no need to, as any mythology book would cite that a woman with same name is the ruler of Amazons.
Of course, Anne had never seen the need to read one such specific book on Greek Mythology. Which she was regretting by now. The images and the sights on this city was amazing. Not to say completely beyond the realm of her understanding. As the daughter of a world-renowned mathematician, she was raised with a completely agnostic belief system which was laid on the belief that science was all one needed.
So, there she was, being brought to this incredibly mind-numbing trip to a place that shouldn't and in all honesty, couldn't exist. From what Hippolyta told her, this island was dead in the middle of Bermuda Triangle. There was no such island in that area, she had checked from the atlas. Yet, it also kinda explained why that region was so troublesome.
"I am the Queen, but here, it makes little difference. I serve my people, not the other way around. The difference between me and my sisters is just a title."
"And a really groovy armor." Anne was getting antsy. She had left without even leaving a note for her father. And being escorted to this island by its Queen was raising all sorts of red flags in her logical mind. Furthermore, the women in the city were dropping whatever they were doing to salute and bow their heads as she followed the blonde queen. And she was getting the feeling that some of it was directed her way.
"Where is this 'mother' I'm supposed to be meeting? Not... Not that I believe you or anything."
Hippolyta lightly laughed. "This is a long way to traverse if you didn't believe at least a part of my story. Yet fret not, we are close."
They turned a corner and faced a long ascent towards a majestic temple. At the entrance of the temple, a larger than life statue of a woman holding a spear towards the air could be seen.
Anne realized that Hippolyta had stopped walking. She also noticed how all the Amazons cleared out from around the temple. She looked at the warrior queen with an obvious question.
"Your mother is in the temple, waiting for you."
"You are not coming?"
Hippolyta shook her head. "This meeting is for you and you alone."
Anne climbed the steps of the temple as the queen and other Amazons in the square watched. She walked past the statue and in between the stone columns of the entrance. She looked around inside, and it was majestic. White marble, unblemished by time or strife, gleamed everywhere.
Ahead of her, a single figure stood facing away from her. What made Anne's heart jump was the hair color of the figure. Same light shade of fiery red of her own, flowing from under a helmet. The figure was tall, but not as tall as Hippolyta. She was dressed in a similar armor from what she could see, with a toga underneath the armor.
"You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment." The voice made Anne jump as she walked. It carried through the distance between them and resonated strongly in the hall. It had a quality that commanded authority yet retained some gentleness.
The figure turned around to face Anne. All doubt flew from her mind as soon as she saw the face. The woman in question removed her helmet to reveal the full length of her fiery red hair. The face was almost identical to Anne's own, down to the last detail. One significant difference was the eye color. This woman had grey eyes, somehow sparkling enough to be noticed across the entire length of the temple.
Both the woman and the young girl took tentative steps towards each other. Anne had forgot to speak, while the older woman across her was apparently content to just look at her.
As they neared each other, Anne finally summoned up the will to ask what she had in mind.
"Who... are you?"
The woman in question smiled, and Anne could feel the radiating power in the air as she did. "I am your mother. I am also the patron of this island and the Amazons."
"My dear Anne, my name is Athena, and your mother."
"Oh. My. God."
"Yup."
"Oh. MY. GOD."
"Yup."
"Mom, literally. OH. MY. GOD."
"Exactly my first reaction."
Themyscira, Paradise Island
29 Years Ago
"Again." Hippolyta ordered as the teenage girl in the practice ring in front of her was knocked down.
Anne got up, trying to get her bearings together. The Amazon she was sparring with was an exceptionally large woman, nearly twice the size of the fourteen year old demigod. Her photo reflexive memory could only carry her so far without strength to back it up. A fact that the queen watching from the sidelines seemed not to get.
This was almost the end of the second summer she had spent on this island, amongst literally a small nation of warriors. She had been learning all sorts of warfare, techniques and tactics. Every night she spent on the island, she went to get educated by her mother.
The very goddess of wisdom, justice and strategic warfare. The concept was foreign to her. Sure, she had craved a mother as long as she could remember, but she was never unloved. Her father never left her wanting for affection. Now that she could almost form some sort of bond between her real mother and herself, it felt alien.
Athena, caring as she was, always treated her more of a mortal subject than a real daughter. She was being taught almost anything one could imagine, yet Anne felt that the goddess had other plans. Which was obvious. As Hippolyta time and again told her, Olympians were fickle beings with plans beneath plans. Athena was probably the best of them, as she was more intimate with the mortal world than any other, bar her brother War, and cared for mortals.
Still, she was a goddess of Olympus, and that had Anne on her toes. Her father was unwilling to let her go off every summer to be trained as a warrior. He had confirmed the goddess when Anne had went back, told her that she was indeed a demigod, yet gave out no other details to the affair. It made her angry.
Furthermore, her mother kept telling her that the real power of her blood would come with time and acceptance. So far, Anne had nothing. Other than her supernatural learning capabilities, no other power had came forward.
She slammed her fist into the ground as she got up. She was getting tired of being the punching bag almost every other Amazon who resented her for not being one of them and being the offspring of the goddess they worshipped.
She raised her shield and practice blade and charged towards her sparring partner. The giant of a woman she was facing stabbed forward with the spear she was holding. Anne deflected it with the shield and slid her blade alongst unguarded side of her opponent. The shield on the woman's left hand deflected that.
Anne charged and spun around herself to avoid another stab. She slammed her shield sideways and followed it up with a downwards slash with her practice blade. It was blocked pretty easily.
"You'll have to do a lot better than that, little godling." The Amazon pushed with her shield and shoved Anne away.
Something welled up within Anne and came out roaring. She started a routine of slashes and slams. Her sparring partner kept up easily at first.
Then somehow, the hits started coming on faster and much stronger. Anne's twirls and flourishes kept on raining. The ringing of her practice blade on her opponent's shield was almost rythmic. With one final strike, that shield split right down the middle. Anne followed that up with a shield bash which sent the woman fully twice her size flying.
All the spectators were speechless. She was breathing hard as she felt her blood running hot.
Hippolyta stood up from the chair she was sitting on. She came near and put her hand on Anne's shoulder.
"Well done. Now we can start training for real."
The teenage girl faltered. "Wha-What?!"
"So you can...?"
"Use some super strength like you? Yes. I've lost most of it after years of non-use though."
"So why were you being trained?"
"See Kimmie, that is where the story gets out of control."
Themyscira, Paradise Island
27 Years Ago
"You have been reckless daughter. Very reckless." The red-headed goddess threw the teenager in front of her a sharp look.
"What you call reckless was helping people in need." The sixteen year old girl with equally red hair answered with conviction and stood tall.
"You earned those bracers for being smart about what you do, yet you saw no reason not to dress up and venture into the darker side of your city at night."
"I have power and I have the will to do it. I see no problem."
"Do you think that dressing differently and keeping to the dark will protect your anonymity for long? You did not even bother to conceal your identity."
Anne paced briskly in front of her mother. "You keep telling me that my powers, your blood in my veins are meant for doing good in the mortal world! Then you expect me to sit on my hands all year while waiting to make my summer training camp here?!"
"Saving a few people from ruffians and thieves, pulling some others from dangerous situations... These are beneath you. Your importance as my daughter is-"
"My importance?! You won't even tell me what that is! I have kept my mouth shut for three years now, but this is ridiculous! Why did you even conceive me to place me in the world, if not for helping people?!"
Her daughter had lost her cool, but the millennia-old goddess was unfazed. She was quite used to the impatience of mortals, she had been helping their heroes despite that for ages.
"You risk exposure before the correct time."
"What time?!"
"The time when the mortal world is ready for you. For people like you."
"Maybe I'm not content with being your weapon for that indeterminate future! Maybe I want more than the absenteé love of an absenteé mother!"
"Annie, you know that I have many responsibilities. So will you, in time. That time can wait."
"Well, I won't wait. I can use these powers for good. So you'll have to bear with me 'being reckless' for now."
Athena sighed audibly as she stood stoically, watching her daughter. An owl landed on her shoulder and dropped a metal object from its beak.
"The Smith crafted it as I wanted, I presume?" The owl seemed to be nodding with its head in answer to the question.
Anne had stopped pacing and watching her mother. The goddess of wisdom brought her hand above the silvery metal and touched it. It seemed to gleam for a second. Then she turned to Anne and threw her the object.
The teenager caught it out of the air. It was a simple, unadorned silver tiara. She looked at Athena for answers.
"If you insist on your path, I can at least try to protect you. Try it on."
Anne put the tiara and felt a little strange. Then she realized her red hair turning jet black.
"What the-" She touched around her face and realized there was something on top of it. Felt like a dark,heavy make-up of some kind, covering her eyes and the immediate area around them.
"In case you were wondering, it also changes your eye color. It's black as well."
"Why... What is this?"
"Something I had The Smith make for you. I just enchanted it with my own disguising power. When you put it on, it will alter your most distinguishable features to protect your identity."
"Why?"
Athena smiled. "Why? Because I knew you wouldn't back down from your conviction. So that's to keep you and your father safe."
"Well... Thanks... Mother."
Middleton, Colorado
Present Day
Anne had fallen silent after telling the last bit. She seemed to be in deep thought.
"Mom?" Kim shook her mother's arm to get her attention. "Mom, are you okay?"
Anne sighed and smiled at her. "I am... It's just... It has been years since I thought of all this... And saw her.."
"What happened next? What happened to make you cut contact?"
Anne checked her watch. "We better get home Kimmie. Your father will have the boys back by now."
"Mom, you can't leave this story unfinished. It directly concerns me as well."
Anne turned on the ignition. "Just give me a few days honey, okay? I just need to compose my thoughts... The following part, as I said, is out of control. For now, just be careful. You seem to be able to access your Olympian blood, though I'm not sure how."
As the car travelled towards the Possible residence, Kim couldn't help but ask.
"Do you still keep those clothes? I mean, your... you know, 'outfit'?"
Anne smiled. "I'll show you later."
The blonde teenager absently closed his locker. The second he did that, a familiar arm entwined around his own. It was, of course, Kim Possible who did that.
His best friend who would just not leave him alone. It was almost painful how she watched and guided his every move like a hawk. Not to mention the fact that his body was somehow inexplicably weak for their first two weeks back, she had half-carried him from class to class.
Now though, he had regained his strength. What made him agitated was the looks everyone kept sending his way. It was almost tethering on the edge of pity. And it simply made him angry. And Kim was not making it easy. She didn't seem to get that all he wanted was silence for the time being.
Silence, he was not being afforded.
"Come on, we have Miss Whisp's class. She wants to see our extra homeworks on her desk before the lecture."
Ron just nodded. It was all he did lately. Either nodding or simply staying silent. He let himself be dragged to class.
"You know you can't ignore her forever. Kim is relentless."
Ron just took his seat at the back of the class. Kim shooed away the guy sitting at the chair next to him and sat down herself. She pulled out her bag and pulled both their homeworks. The homework that she had sat him down for and forced to complete himself.
While watching the class with disinterest, he caught sight of the right edge of the class. Where Bonnie Rockwaller was sitting, with the same disinterest in her eyes that plagued Ron's own. It was not hard to guess why.
"Ron, you should really listen to Miss Whisp. You can't disconnect yourself forever."
Ron simply carried on listening to the class with half an ear. Kim would occasionally turn to him to check how he was doing, but sitting at the back of the class would afford him at least some of the solitude he craved.
Kim dragged him to lunch after the class. He had altogether stopped himself from doing any speed-related tasks, yet that had slowed down his metabolism only slightly. So far, he was being forced to eat a lot just to stay alive. He usually loved eating as much as he could, but of course, he had lost that appetite as well.
Monique and Kim brought his lunch and sat down at each of his sides. Sometimes, he wished he could just speed away from all this. Cafetaria was too noisy for him. The girls were talking about something class related. He was not listening, just eating his food with grim devotion.
"Ron, you should pay attention around you. Who knows what you might miss."
Ron's left eye twitched slightly, but he otherwise sat without any reaction. At the edge of his vision, he saw Bonnie walk in with Hope at her side. The usually vocal and vibrant brunette had also been silent these past weeks. He didn't know what to think about that. He had expected to hear something, anything from her. Yet nothing was on her end.
So far, Kim's post-coma check-ups and various physical tests had kept her from cheerleading. Hence, they had not had much cause to speak with Bonnie. Plus, Kim had acted as if she didn't want to go back to it. Ron didn't know what to think about it. He couldn't lie, the first few times he had spotted the uniforms in school had almost given him panic attacks.
He realized he had finished eating while thinking. Kim and Monique were taking longer, since they were speaking and all. He decided to get a few alone moments before afternoon classes. He stood up and took his tray with him. Kim's hand caught his arm.
"Ron, where are you going?"
" ... Just to wash my hands..." He answered, as silent as possible.
Kim looked a bit taken aback, but she nodded. Then she retrieved something from her pocket.
"Take Rufus with you. He squirmed all morning." Kim handed him the sleeping mole rat.
Ron took his pet wordlessly and put him in his own pocket. Kim was taking care of Rufus as well. Poor little guy was as lifeless as himself, sleeping the days away. Ron didn't know why it was like that. He couldn't summon enough energy to try to cheer up Rufus either.
It was a shitty deal all over.
He walked into the restroom and washed his hands. For good measure, and to get some feeling back at his face, he also slapped cold water on his face as well.
"It won't matter how much you wash your face Ron, that won't go away as long as you don't talk about it."
Ron looked at his reflection in the mirror. It was himself at first, but then it switched with a version of himself with red eyes and a face crackling with red energy.
It disgusted him. He hated himself. Ron Stoppable couldn't live with himself. Every reflection he saw reminded him of his failures. Multiple. He couldn't stop hating himself.
For he still wanted the burning feeling that came with that power. That disgusting red rage, the haze of blood he had tasted... It was what he craved. For he knew that it would feel tremendously good to revel in that rage, replacing this nightmare he was trapped in..
Before it burned him out completely. That was the part he craved most. Going to sleep... And somehow, never waking up. Never caring. Never again feeling like this. If his Jewish faith was correct, he'd be sent to a realm of eternal darkness as well. He thought that if anyone's light had went out spiritually, it would be his own.
"Ron, stop doing this to yourself. Just talk to your friends. Talk to Kim. She cares for you."
Ron tried to keep ignoring the voice. He averted his eyes from the mirror. He couldn't bear to look at the apparent source of the voice.
"Ignoring me for the last two weeks has not worked. You need to speak to someone eventually."
"Why don't you just leave me alone?! Why?!" Ron blurted out without turning around.
"Because you don't want me to."
Ron's breath got stuck in his chest. He felt being smothered slowly. His heart raced. His hands started to shake.
"Just leave me alone! I just want some silence! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
He fell backwards and collapsed near the door of the restroom. He hid his head between his arms and took a fetal position as he shook uncontrollably. The feeling of being smothered intensified as Ron slowly lost his senses.
"If you wanted me to leave you alone, I would be gone already."
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
The door to the restroom opened with haste and revealed Josh Mankey behind it. He took a look around and saw Ron on the ground. He immediately grabbed the blonde's shoulders and tried to shake him to his sense.
"Stoppable! Ron! Man, get yourself together!" A few more guys rushed inside and tried to get him to stand.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" His thrashing was barely contained by the combined efforts of four guys.
"I wish I could. I really wish you would let me go."
As Ron's vision swam and spun, he saw the petite form of Tara King behind the guys holding him still. She was the last thing he saw before he fainted.
Kim took a deep breath before she went into the car with Barkin. Driver's education was being conducted and she was in trouble. With all the troubles, she had not practiced the driving a car more than maybe twice. A week ago, Ron had suffered something her mother diagnosed as a panic attack, and he had been more withdrawn ever since.
It was clear that he needed at least some space, so she had backed off slightly. She still watched him and made sure he was properly eating or going to correct classes, but she and Monique were letting Ron wander alone time to time. It broke her heart to see him like that, but there was little to be done.
He had just survived through a test drive on the circuit with Barkin. He had driven the car, if it could be called driving, like a log. Naturally, he got an F. He was probably the least interested person on the course at the moment.
Bonnie, on the other hand, had driven the car almost zealously. She had not improved much either. As soon as Kim had restarted attending cheer squad, she had dropped out. It was painfully obvious she was simply staying as far from Kim as she could.
Kim shook her head. She needed to focus to drive. As soon as she got into the driver's seat though, she seemed to start making mistakes. Barkin was deducting points for every single thing. Her nervousness overcame her as the driving part went badly as well. She narrowly avoided running over an innocent squirrel and spun the car. It stopped just in time before it got on the sideway.
Barkin was quick to jot out a giant F on her evaluation card. This was just the cherry on top of the ultra shitty week she was having.
Aside from Ron being more withdrawn, Wade had also cut contact. At least he had notified his reasons over a phone call. He was living with his aunt and grandmother now. His grandmother had cut him off from technology, at least for the foreseeable future. On the phone, he had not sounded too distraught though. Wade needed a break as well, a well deserved one. So the Kimmunicator and Ron's watch were silent.
Her website had gone down, since it was tied to Wade's domain. She could easily get it back up using the admin access password Wade had given her, but then she decided against it. There was no way in hell Ron could go on any missions. And without him, not to mention her own troubles, missions were a no go. World had to rely on more conventional methods to save itself for the time being.
She was also having problems with herself. Somehow, whatever that had happened to her in the coma had activated something within her. She couldn't fully control the strength sometimes, shattering whatever she was holding. More than a few times, she had misjudged jumps and somehow leapt overboard at cheerleading as well. Her mother had told her that it was temporary, that she'd get used to it. For now, she had trouble trusting her own body.
Last but not the least of her worries was the government official that had visited them a few days ago. Basically, vigilante justice was not going to be tolerated any longer, or so they were told. Her popularity and status had afforded her protection from both the city and state officials, but the federal government was clear. Her actions were no longer sanctioned.
In fact, she had to call in that one favor CIA owed her to get some background on the issue. The answer she had gotten was clear. Someone in the black ops divisions were calling for a shutdown on all vigilantes. She was the only one amongst them to be publically visible. In fact, being told off and keep to her life as a normal teenager was the military and intelligence's way of saying thanks to her. They wanted her to stay out of all this, at least for the time being.
She found it hard to rage or fight against this as well. She had effectively brought down a full scale terrorist attack on Middleton. She had ruined the lives of her two closest friends. Someone had died to protect her.
Tara was the last thing bothering her. There was a question she could not ask Ron. She was afraid to even think it at times. More than the questions surrounding her maternal 'grandmother', more than the worries about her own existence, that question was eating her up.
After classes and cheer practice, she met up with Monique at Bueno Nacho. Monique was telling Kim about something she was barely listening to.
"Kim, what do you think that happened to him?"
"Huh, wha? What happened to who?"
Monique puffed and spoke in annoyance. " To the Flash! He has been AWOL ever since the, uh, OKP."
"OKP? Okay, you gotta open that one."
"Operation Kill Possible."
"Seriously Monique... As for the Flash, well..." Kim didn't know what to say. She couldn't exactly come out and say that 'the best friend of mine whose life was turned upside down happens to be Flash so he is taking a vacation.' Instead, she feigned ignorance.
"I don't know what exactly happened, but maybe he is recovering, you know?"
"It's odd really. The only other time he didn't show for a time was that week after the Space Center deal. And that was for a week. It's past mark a whole month nearly this time. You think he TTAR?"
"English please."
"Turned tail and ran? People at my blog thinks that he might even be dead."
Kim's eyes grew. "Wha- Your blog - Whaat?"
Monique rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't check it even once! You know, my own fashion blog? I started a seperate section just for the Flash-related news after our museum deal. It's called Flash-Watch."
"You never told me that!"
"I assumed you visited my usual blog often enough to have seen it! Seriously girl, you gotta get back in the game."
"It's not been easy to do so... With all this stuff going on."
"Look, I get it. I am as sad as anyone. But it's time to get back into the routine. For everyone." Monique threw Kim a pointed look. "And I mean, everyone."
"What do you expect Mon?" Kim threw a look outside at the setting sun. "Ron was doing almost okay, but then that panic attack happens and... I don't know. I get the feeling he is trying to avoid me on purpose."
"Look, it's just as we talked last week. He just needs some space. But we can't let him wander around alone all the time."
Kim sighed and sipped the last of her soda. She looked deep in thought. "Can I ask you something Monique? Something you must answer with full honesty?"
"Sure, anything girl. I'm here to help."
"No best friend fudge, no sugar coating, okay?"
"Have you seen me to hold back what I think yet? Just spill."
Kim lowered her head and placed her hands under her chin. "You were there when I was in the coma... Do you think... Did Ron... love Tara? At the end?"
Monique sighed and leaned back. She should've known something bothered Kim greatly. But this was a tough question to answer.
"Kim, first thing you gotta understand is that it was really hard on Ron, your coma. He ran himself ragged trying to fill in for you, amongst other things. He was getting desperate as you kept sleeping. None of us could really reach him."
Monique's eyes averted Kim's and looked away. "But... That little blonde was apparently much more of a... person than we all thought. I think she was the only reason Ron kept it together as long as he did. She... Damn..."
Monique lowered her face and wiped her eyes with a napkin. "I'm sorry Kim. She kept helping me with my Flash-Watch as well at the time. She helped Ron along, even at the point of making sure he was eating. I'm pretty sure she was also keeping the cheer squad together while Bonnie was playing at being a captain."
Something clicked in Kim. Beyond Ron, hiding even deeper than him, that girl had touched lives. Suddenly, Bonnie stopping cheerleading made a lot more sense.
And she had died to protect her flawed, miserable self. A few tears threatened to come out as she also lowered her head.
Monique and Kim sat silent with their heads lowered for a few minutes as they got their feelings under control. Then the part about Monique's blog went through Kim's mind.
"Did you say that she was helping you with your blog?"
Monique smiled. "For sure. She was helping with building the timelines. We are trying to come up with a timeline, to see if we could figure out what Flash does when he is out of his suit."
"Wha- Really?" Kim was shocked to learn that.
"She was a big fan of Flash. She typed in a lot of blog updates about his deeds."
"Didn't know any of that..."
"Not a lot of people does. We posted as anonymous writers in that section."
"What did you find out?"
"About Flash? Not much. He probably has a normal nine to five job though. We ruled out him being a high school or college student."
Kim's eyes grew. Tara had covered their asses yet again.
"So... You think Ron really...?"
Monique reached across and held Kim's hand. "Yes, I think he loved her at the end."
Before the fashion aficionado could continue, Kim blurted out the real question eating at her.
"Do you think Ron hates me? For... for getting the girl he loved... killed?"
Monique suddenly understood. After all this, it was a simple thing that was on Kim's mind.
"Oh honey." She got out of the booth and sat near Kim. The usually proud and strong cheerleader was shaking with grief and sadness. "Honey, I don't think he can ever hate you. Ron... Believe me. He and his ridicilously freckled face could never hate you."
"He won't talk to me. As soon as he gets the chance, he does his best to stay away. He doesn't even sit at dinner at the house. He silently gets a plate and eats alone... Mon, it's like he wants me as far as possible... Just like Bonnie."
Kim buried her face in her hands. "I didn't want her to die.. I made a promise to her, to always have her back. Then I wake up, and all this happened while I slept an entire world away..."
Monique kept rubbing her back while she talked. "It's gonna be fine. We all just need more..."
Time. Why does it move so slow... Why can't it just stay normal for me?
Why did that goddamned lightning bolt strike me at all?!
Ron was aware that he was going literally crazy. Seeing his dead girlfriend everywhere and her speaking in his head was nowhere near normalcy. Worse part was that he knew she wasn't real. Not a ghost, not a zombie. This was entirely his creation.
Worse yet, he secretly wished it never ended. Her endless chatter was to let her go, move on.
Well, he just wanted to be left alone. Silence was rare. But even the voice in his head seemed to get when he needed it. After that first panic attack, he had not suffered another. He was also avoiding mirrors with a passion now.
So there he was. His favorite spot in the city. The roof a particularly tall building in downtown Middleton. It was neither a landmark nor even the tallest one. It was a simple roof to an apartment complex, tarps and all. It had one redeeming quality. It had a direct view to both Lowerton and Upperton, the mountains at north range of Tri-City and most of the notable spots in Middleton.
He had discovered it as Flash. It became an awesome spot when a full moon was up. Climbing up while speeding was not a problem. Since he had avoided even slightly accelerating a single molecule, getting here was actually some work. Still, he did it. It was the most silent place he could find these days.
He had just that one problem. He could keep himself from accelerating indefinitely, physically at least. His body could be kept at a normal speed.
As Ron started to find out, his brain was another matter entirely. Only now he was realizing the full extent of the changes he was going through. When he first woke up from his coma, world didn't even slow down as it did lately. He could run fast whenever he wanted, but using superspeed mentally with his brain would require concentration. Now, it would speed up at its own without the need for concentration.
Hence why he started hating time. Other people were so slow sometimes. Even when his brain operated normally, he had started seeing some other people as being slower than he was. And when he was alone with himself, he had all the time in the world to think.
He hated doing this to Kim. After the panic attack, Kim had stepped back and was giving him space, but he could see him getting as far and away as possible was hurting her feelings.
It could not be helped. He was toxic. He hated himself for being near the entire Possible clan, but he didn't know what to do. He couldn't bear to sit at their dinner table. Ironic, since he had no problem of crashing their dinners when his parents were still alive. Maybe because of that, he just ate quietly, alone.
Take it one day at a time, they all kept saying. Even a single day was excruciatingly long for him nowadays.
Lost in his musing, his brain had fallen into superspeed again. Slowly, a screech started filling up his ear. On reflex, he looked around to see what it was.
There it was. A stupid, reckless, airheaded teen driving their parents' car out of control on a single lane street. They would crash it into some mailbox and learn a good lesson.
Except, and he saw it clearly as he squinted, there was someone in that car's path. A little kid, girl by the pigtails he could spot from this distance. She was dead in the way of that car. A woman was half-frozen in a shocked, screeching pose.
He didn't realize what he was doing until he was already halfway down the tall building. He was running along the side of it, intent on making it to the girl before that car. There were barely a few feet before it reached the little girl.
As the sound of screeching tires travelled almost at the same speed as he did, he reached the kid as the bumper of the car was just centimetres away from her.
The car crashed directly on the wall of the nearby building. The mother's screams of terror and grief filled the street and people rushed to her. Then both the mother and other people realized that the little girl was not crushed or got ran over.
Instead, at the edge of that same building, a hooded man was holding the girl while crouching. He seemed to let go a second later and the girl ran directly for her mother. The mother scooped her kid up and looked at the apparent savior.
Whose shoes were smoking only slightly. Ron kept his head down, because he was shaking. He realized one thing.
He had missed this. The exhilaration, the speed. The running. He loved running. Then the little girl's face registered. Fear and shock on her face as he ran for her. The mother's terror.
He suddenly remembered all the dead people at the hospital. Tara's face as he held her. His parents in the morgue. His heartbeat quickened.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" The mother approached him as other people watched. His hood was pulled all the way down and he was facing the pavement, so no one could really see his face. "Thank you a million times!" She touched his shoulder with her free hand.
He jerked away as if being electrocuted. "I'm sorry..." He mumbled. Then he was all gone with a gust of wind.
"That was... Flash!" People talked to each other animatedly.
Meanwhile, the mother was hugging her daughter and chanting her name over and over again. The teenagers stumbled out of the car to be admonished by a streetful of people.
Ron crashed on the ground at the backyard of a random suburban home. His breathing evened out slowly as he blacked out.
"I keep telling you, you can't keep holding on to us." He saw Tara's face above his before darkness totally consumed him.
"Told you I could do it." Doctor Freeman was dancing in tandem with Drakken.
"I know! I never doubted you!" Drakken was dancing along.
Meanwhile, Shego was incredibly annoyed at her boss' behaviour. Sure, they had played it cool and had Freeman fix the Destructo-Bots of Dr. D. but the celebration was a bit overboard.
"So what happens to the nerdy doctor then?" She asked.
Drakken stopped dancing and answered with perfect clarity. "Have one of the henchmen ride him home Shego. And provide our complimentary abductee gift baskets."
Freeman was now extremely perplexed. "Gift baskets? Really?"
"But of course! I rarely get to give them out as well, since that annoying teen keeps saving them before I get to complete my schemes and actually release them! Do try the chocolate chip cookies in the basket, they are to die for."
"Is he being totally serious?" The robotics expert looked at the annoyed looking woman in green and black.
"Completely... Come on Doc, let's get you home."
Drakken was now admiring the new, glitch-free Destructo-Bots of his. "And then I'll invade Canada!"
"Okay, what is it with you and Canada?"
"What do you mean Shego, it has a terrific economy and low crime rates, deal with Quebec once every three years or so and you'll be done! It's such an easy country to rule over!"
Suddenly, the wall of the lair exploded, sending all three of them to the ground.
"What the hell is going on?!" Shego screamed as she tried to gather herself back up from the ground.
Through the exploded remains of the wall, a set of people walked inside.
"Lawton, tranq darts."
"Don't get your panties in a bunch Flagg. It's done."
Shego heard the voices but her vision swam and she succumbed to darkness. Same happened to Drakken as well. They fell to the ground, small darts sticking out their necks.
Dr. Freeman was scared and perplexed as the figures walked out of the dust cloud. A man with a red eyepiece was calibrating a device on his right arm, which looked like a shooting device of some sort.
Drakken's Destructo-Bots reacted to the men who busted inside the lair. They raised their cannons, but the first line's cannons got struck by a flying object and malfunctioned. The object, revealed to be a boomerang, returned to its owner, a man with brown hair and brown eyes.
The man in the middle, a blonde middle aged man on the tall side, pointed to the robots.
"Take them all out, spare one to bring back with us."
Lawton raised his arm and peppered the bots with explosive darts and bullets. "Really boss? Waller wants another souvenir?"
The blond man pulled double handguns and started firing at the remaining bots. "What Waller wants, Waller gets. Do your job Lawton."
Freeman screamed as the Destructo-Bots exploded around him. After all the gusto Drakken had shown, the robots were somewhat on the flimsy side.
A minute later, only one Destructo-Bot remained, and it's weapons were busted. Lawton fired an electro-round from his wrist-mounted shooter and deactivated it.
The blonde man pointed to the robot and called out. "Harkness, get that bot to the chopper. Lawton, secure the perimeter for extraction." Both men grumbled but nodded to his orders. He turned to the robotics expert.
"Doctor Jared Freeman, your country has need of your skills. You must come with me."
"Who are you people?! Look, I appreciate the rescue, but I just want to go home!"
"I'm afraid that is not possible. We need your peerless expertise on robotics. United States government will provide compensation for your time and effort."
He took hold of the arm of the robotics expert and pulled him towards the makeshift exit. As he did, he turned to the sharpshooter.
"Did you take out that self-aware car?"
"It's in the bottom of a trash compactor, and it's onboard computer was pulled out as you said. Get off my case Flagg, I already completed my assignments."
Freeman's eyes grew. "You destroyed Sadie?!"
Lawton just adjusted his wrist-shooter and fired a dart at Freeman, who fell unconscious almost immediately. The blonde man in charge, Flagg, shot him a sour look. Lawton waved him off.
"It's just a tranq round. Don't tell me you wanted him bawling all the way back to base."
Flagg shook his head in annoyance and heaved the unconscious robotics expert on his shoulder.
Kim took deep breaths in succession, preparing herself for the upcoming move.
She was in the woods near the suburban area. Ever since she woke up, she had somewhat neglected to understand and control what was going on with herself. At seven in a lovely Saturday morning, she had resolved to at least get some control back.
Her strength was haywire, making her break things if she didn't concentrate. Her reflexes were in a constant state of being amped up, almost as if time slowed down slightly for her, sometimes. And her speed was off the charts the last time she ran seriously.
It was time to see what it was all about. She broke into a dash. There was no moving object in the woods to gauge how time had slowed down or not, but she was certain about one thing. The air whipping at her face could not possibly be achieved by running at any speed less than an Olympic sprinter's.
She jumped to avoid a fallen branch. It turned into a gigantic leap which propelled her up towards the higher branches on some trees nearby. She crashed through them, but landed on the ground running and kept running. On instinct, she punched a tree that was in her way.
It burst into splinters as she passed by it. Kim kept running and circled back with some effort to maneuver her speed. The tree she had just demolished in the bottom was in the process of falling down. She caught it before it landed and swung it around like a giant baseball bat. Three other trees were uprooted as the tree in Kim's hands struck them.
Kim let go of the ruined tree and looked at her handiwork. The ground she ran on had deep speed marks on. An impression of her shoe was made in the soft, damp ground. She walked back to her original spot and retraced her jump. She had easily jumped over some thirty feet of height and fifty feet of distance. And she felt no strain on her body. Her fist looked smooth, her knuckles unblemished even after the super powered punch.
She looked around and tried to come to terms with these abilities. A comment Ron had made way back when Kim first learnt about his alter ego came to her mind.
The funny part about my cheatish power is that... Well.. Kim, it is actually freaking fun. To run and run. That feeling of being... Unstoppable.
Kim smiled a bit as she recalled how happy he was back then. His eyes were shining as he was thinking about what he did, how he did it. Maybe that was what she needed.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she broke into another incredible dash in the woods.
Sounds of crashing trees and a teenage girl bellowing with excitement could have been heard for the next three hours, if anyone was around.
Meanwhile, Ron was sitting at the back at temple.
He had no idea why he was here. He had gotten out of Possible residence early in the morning, having no idea on what to do. He had wandered aimlessly, and somehow, he had found himself in front of the synagogue he visited with his parents.
On an impulse, he had walked in quietly. Rabbi Katz was in the process of reading from Torah. It meant almost nothing to Ron, who had never really took a deep interest in his religion. The kindly rabbi had seen him enter though.
After the reading, he started a sermon. The core topic was about the hardships of life and how one with faith should deal with them. Ron was absently listening, not even sure if he was hearing half the words spoken by Katz. Rufus, who was hiding in his pocket earlier, was sitting on his shoulder, seeming to listen more intently than Ron did.
After some time, Ron broke out of his reverie when he thought he heard his name.
"Above all, I feel obligated to remind you all of something important. Friends, we must remember that every moment is fleeting. As a community, as a people, we must be mindful of our loved ones, and the time we spend with them."
"Young Ronald Stoppable is with us today. Life has taken bad turns for him, as it will for all of us at some point. At times like this, we must remember to capture the magic of the simplest things. Even something as simple as reading a book with your family, or sharing a coffee with dear friend. Sitting down at what has become a rarity, a family dinner."
"We are literally killing ourselves to get no place faster. Friends, one of the big ideas of Judaism, in fact what's behind the very notion of Shabbat, is the awareness of time. Time itself is God's great gift to us. And only we human beings are conscious of time. Appreciating every minute is our achievement as human beings."
"I urge you all to do just that. Appreciate this great gift God has given us. Appreciate what we have and what we might lose. In the end, failing to appreciate the gift of life until it's too late, that is the real crime."
The sermon ended a few minutes after that. Ron kept sitting there as people slowly filed out. Many of the congregation touched his shoulder, offering silent prayers and encouragements while Ron could only blankly nod.
After some time, only Ron had remained inside, aside from Rabbi Katz himself. The man of faith walked near and sat at the chair near Ron.
"I am happy to see you here Ronald."
"I... I don't think-" Ron tried to apologize but Katz calmed him down with his hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay Ronald. I understand. We all do. Now, I know you were never the model Jew in matters of faith, but believe me when I tell you this. It doesn't matter. You will always have a place here when you need it, if you need it. No one but you can judge yourself, but I know you. You have a kind and honest heart, and it shall remain so whether you come here every Saturday or once in a blue moon."
Ron nodded and sighed. "You said... We need to appreciate the gift of time. That we must be aware of it. What if..." He took in a deep breath. "What if that very awareness of it is what's torturing me? What if it moves so slow that it forces you to be aware of all that has gone wrong? How does one deal with that?"
Katz smiled slightly. "The answer is self-evident. Faith." As he saw Ron trying to speak, he cut him off again. "It need not be faith in God per se, Ronald. Faith in one's self, his abilities and virtues, drive to make things better. Faith in one's friend to be with him, to stand with him against life's hardships. Faith in one's community and country to be the cradle one needs when one feels the need for one. Faith in God and his great plan, that eventually, we will all achieve what we deserve and by his grace, ascend. More than everything else though, faith, hope in a better future."
"That is how you deal with the demons time brings with it. You must open up and have faith. Have hope. For without both of them, we would not be above the rest of creation as sentients. That is our power and our curse."
Ron nodded as he tried to wrap his head around the notions presented to him. He slowly got up from the chair and looked at Rabbi Katz.
"I... I don't know when I'll come back. But... thanks Rabbi. Thank you."
He walked out of the temple as Katz looked at his back, slightly worried about the lost young man.
The Tri-City Air's representative in the Middleton High Career Week finished his presentation and urged them to watch the video nearby.
"Just the brochure's good, thanks." Kim pulled Ron alongside her, who had grabbed a peanut bag from the bowl in front of the airline rep and presented it to Rufus. The mole rat started devouring them right away.
Ron was not particularly all there. He was absent mindedly following Kim around as she insisted on taking him to the career week and the presentations, partly to distract him and get him out of his shell.
"Check that off. What exciting career should we scope out next?" She looked at the list in her hand.
The veterinarian nearby caught Rufus' eye and made him shiver. The little mole rat had bad memories about the man. He dove into Ron's pocket.
Ron patted him through the fabric slightly as he kept following Kim. "Do we really have to do this?"
"Ron, it's a great opportunity. A mentor can be a huge inspiration."
Ron stayed silent, failing to see the point of all this. He had zero drive for this as of that moment, the idea of a mentor while he had almost no idea what he was going to do in the next day was not appealing.
Steve Barkin's voice sounded over a loudspeaker. "Listen up people! It's time to pair up with one of the volunteer mentors here today. Choose carefully. Your entire future could well hinge on this decision. You have two minutes. " He finished anti-climactically.
"But we haven't talked to half the people here!"
Ron shook his head slowly and elected to lean on a nearby stand. It looked deserted, and he wanted to stay away from the huge crowd in front of the international diplomacy stand. Kim, on the other hand, went straight for it. She walked through some of the crowd, then got fed up and executed a jump over the rest of it, complete with a flip on the landing.
Which was on a small robotic looking device. She lost her balance and crashed. She looked up to see a man looking down at her. He had a red jumpsuit on and was reaching for the device on the ground.
"Lesson number one young lady. These devices can be dangerous."
"So not the drama. I'm totally fine Mister...?"
"Call me Joe. Ready to begin training?"
Kim was taken aback. "Training?"
"I have little time, and much to teach you." His baritone voice sounded almost sagelike as he told that.
"Oh! No no, I was rushing to international-" She backed up and hit Steve Barkin.
"Ah. Possible. And Joe, the new janitor. Interesting mentor choice." Barkin smiled evilly and left.
Kim couldn't salvage that sitch.
Meanwhile, Ron had stopped watching Kim and was now looking at everyone else talking with various mentors. The only stand remotely interesting to him was the jelly donut stuffer, but he opted out of going to it. A gruff and annoyed voice called from behind him, from the stand he was leaning on.
"You gonna stand there all day kid, or want to move out of my way so I can watch idiots mentoring other idiots?"
Ron turned around to see a man on the wrong side of fifty sitting behind the stand. He had somewhat greyed out unkempt hair and piercing light blue eyes. Ron just looked at his eyes, not particularly intimidated.
"What, are you deaf or something? Do sign it out if you can."
Ron kept looking at him. " I was just staying away from the crowd. You got plenty of space here."
"But if you stand there, someone might think I'm actually interested in mentoring one of you adolescent brats. Which I'm not."
"Why is that?"
"Do you want that list printed or just an auditory statement would suffice?"
"Why are you even here if you don't want to? This is supposed to be volunteers only."
The man snorted and lifted a cane he had in his right hand, pointing to the sign above. It read "Tri-City Forensic Laboratory" on it.
"Long story short, I have one pain in the ass boss who forced me to come here. What's yours?"
Ron didn't answer and looked at the stands nearby. The Middleton PD's stand was near as well, filled with a few kids charmed by the glamour of being a cop. He knew better. Being a cop was being a sanitary worker. He turned back to look at the older man.
"No wait, don't tell me. Let me guess. Lost a family member recently, feeling all angry and lost. You can't stand too much noise or crowd. You have trouble sleeping."
Ron grimaced and looked at his eyes. "How did you..." He sighed. "It doesn't matter." He looked on the table to see what exactly was this man's job. Nothing was there. The man had a shoddy nametag pinned to his jacket. Ron read the name out loud.
"Gregory Home. Exactly what do you do?"
"Something far beyond you."
Ron was annoyed with him a bit now. "You'd be surprised what is within my reach."
"Yes, well, do I get bonus points if I act like I care? Besides, it doesn't matter since you didn't want a mentor to begin with."
"Maybe I want to be a pain in your ass for getting on my nerves."
The older man across the table scoffed. "Hmph. Well, if you are really that interested, I'm a forensic analyst. Are you happy now kid?"
Ron squinted at him. "Is that like a coroner or something?"
"Hah. Coroner. Those hacks couldn't dissect a frog if a book didn't tell 'em how to. No. I get all the evidence and photos from a crime scene and then analyze it to find the truth behind it. Simple really, at least, for me. Most people are too dumb, slow or both to pick up on clues."
He looked at Ron and pointed with his cane at the teen's chest. "For example. The bags under your eyes indicate a prolonged sleeplessness, but not insomnia. Your cheeks are somewhat shallow and your skin is somewhat loose, meaning that you lost weight recently and not sleeping nearly well enough. Avoidance of crowds indicates a psychological component, and judging by the way you keep glancing at the exit, I can safely guess that you are afraid of having another panic attack."
"That's... uh..." Ron couldn't help but gawk at the man. "Pretty damn badical..."
Home just sarcastically smiled. "I'm glowing with praise."
Ron squinted at him. "So you, like, help find criminals?"
"I do anything but catch them. Would do that too, if not for this." He twirled the cane in his hand. "So yes, I am 'pretty damn badical', whatever the hell that means."
Ron seemed contemplative for a second. Rufus peeked out from his pocket to take a look at him. Then, Ron nodded slowly and threw a somewhat crooked smile at the analyst.
"It's settled then. You're my mentor for the week."
Home's eyes narrowed on Ron. "What is your name?"
"Ron Stoppable."
The older man leaned back on his chair and twirled his cane again. "Ah... I see." Suddenly he threw the cane at Ron. The teenager caught it on reflex, before it ever became a threat to his face.
"Good reflexes." The forensic analyst threw his version of an evil smile. "It's done then. Go on, get your name registered with your teacher. After that, you'll be at my lab after school."
As Ron turned to leave, he heard the older man's sarcastic final comment.
"Oh, and I'd bring a sleeping bag."
Ron didn't come back to the Possible residence that evening. Nor the one after. Kim had grown increasingly worried until her mother told her about him being mentored at the forensics lab downtown. Apparently, her father and mother thought it was a good thing for him to spend time on something new, something to reintegrate him in life.
Of course, she had her own problem with mentors. Joe, the new janitor was relentless in teaching her the specs and the circuits of the automatic vacuum cleaner, 'the Vacrometer', for some unfathomable reason. And Bonnie, with all her silent malevolence, was sticking by her own mother as a mentor!
That wouldn't be so bad if the brunette didn't make it a point to act like Kim didn't exist at all. The teen heroine had not initiated any line of conversation herself, but Bonnie's attitude was both saddening and irritating. She'd have to eventually address that.
At least she could exert some control over her powers now. She was sneaking out every day in very early morning to do more training. It was slow progress, but she could do things she couldn't even dream of before.
Kim finished her cheerleading practice and then a mentoring session with Joe where he kept detailing every single feature of the little vacuum cleaner. Joe had finished it early after receiving a call. Ron had vanished as soon as the school ended, so she wouldn't see him or Rufus. On her way home, she noticed something.
It was a bit too quiet in the street. She hurried home and found the house unoccupied. It was odd how the street was empty as well. On a hunch, she turned the TV on and found out the reason.
"... Live coverage from Ottawa continues. For those who are just tuning in, a strange aircraft, later identified as a discontinued weather machine created by LexCorp, turned up in the skies two hours ago and started generating increasingly bad weather. Initial attempts to bring it down by Canadian Air Force was met with disaster. Four Hornet fighter planes are already forced to crash land, with no losses in life. It is unknown who is the culprit as the aircraft is yet to broadcast or accept any communication. All we can do at this point is to pray for our Canadian neighbours..."
Kim saw the footage of the weather machine, and she felt funny about it. For some reason, it looked very familiar to her. She tried to shook the event off though. Before her coma and the warning she were given, she'd be on the first flight over there to solve the crisis. Now though, she was grounded and helpless. Her actions were under scrutiny and even if it wasn't for that, without Wade, she had no way of setting up a ride.
The phone on the kitchen counter rang. She answered immediately.
"Possible residence, Kim speaking."
A modulated voice echoed in Kim's ear. "Miss Possible, listen and don't answer. Your phone is tapped and being listened. We are streaming a different audio clip to create an illusion of a prank call. Set your Kimmunicator to the frequency you will just be supplied with."
Kim noted the frequency on a piece of paper and then answered with mild anger, faking most of it. "Please keep your stupid pranks to yourselves, idiots!" She snapped the phone shut and ran up to her room. She found the little blue Kimmunicator after rummaging through her drawers, and then started working on it to change the frequency. She somehow got it after a while.
Screen flickered for a while, then it came alive to show a reasonably well known face.
"Miss Possible, I'm so glad you heeded my instructions. I am-"
"Lex Luthor. Even I watch the news once in a while." Kim had no trouble recognizing the man with almost predatory features and a bald head.
"Of course. Well, you might say I need your help. So, this is me, 'beeping' you."
Kim sighed. "Haven't you heard how the government is cracking down on vigilantes? They discouraged me from doing anything of the sort anymore."
"Ah yes, that is unfortunate. But not without its loopholes. You see, that unfortunate situation in Canada, my company cannot allow for it to go on longer. And you have experience dealing with the culprits, more than anyone."
"How do you know who they are?"
The small screen flickered and showed Kim a security camera footage. Drakken and Shego were sitting in a cockpit-like place, with some sort of blast shield on the windows.
"I have access to its cameras and some rudimentary systems, enough to get someone in. I think that someone should be you."
Kim grimaced. Drakken and Shego were her specialty, true, but she was still grounded in the eyes of the government.
"Nothing has changed Mr. Luthor. I still can't go. ARGUS won't let me."
"Let me worry about Waller and her merry band of misfits. I guarantee you, you will not catch any 'flak' for this. I will, naturally, provide you with methods of transportation as well. So, what say you? I must remind you, there are also the matter of all those innocents in Ottawa as well."
Kim grudgingly nodded. "If.. If you say you will deal with the consequences... Tell me though, why are you so interested? Even if it's one of your products, you really don't have to follow up on this."
"Miss Possible, in the world of international business and corporate scheming, accountability is everything. You could say this is my way of conducting a social responsibility project. Besides, someone needs to help the Canadians clean up after crisis has passed."
"And that would be your company?"
"Naturally."
"You covered all your bases."
"That's how I built my fortune. Of course, I don't expect you to do this for free."
"I don't do what I do for money."
"I was going to say that I would owe you a favor. A favor from me is worth more than money."
"I... Okay. Okay... Arrange the transportation, I'll be ready very shortly."
"Excellent decision. I'll be in touch."
Kim parachuted down on Ottawa approximately three hours later. Luthor had made good on his word and provided a supersonic jet for transportation. Ron was absent again, and she highly doubted if he would come even if she could find him.
Meanwhile, the giant machine in the air was seemingly generating increasingly bad weather conditions. Kim inspected it from the distance to see how to get to it, but unfortunately, there was no easy way to do it. Hell, there was no hard way to do it either. The repulsor jets of the aircraft was keeping it level high above the city and she needed nothing short of an attack helicopter to reach it.
"I see you would need my help, Miss Possible." Kim heard a familiar voice over the steady hum of a vehicle. She turned around, only to be shocked.
There he was, the new janitor Joe, sitting in a tiny prototype hovercraft. It was oddly familiar in shape and look to Kim.
"Get inside Miss Possible. I'll explain on the way. We don't have much time." Joe pointed with his head.
Kim nodded and jumped in, while wondering the odd happenstance. "Reeeeaaallly feeling like I'm missing something here." She put on the helmet on her seat. "Is this because I gooned on our last meeting?"
"Let's just hope you learned what you need for this assignment."
"What assignment?" Kim was really puzzled now.
"Stopping Drakken's Vacrometer."
"You mean his weather machine thingy? And wait,you know it's Drakken inside?!"
"Yes and yes. Vacrometer, adapted from a discontinued weather conditions generator by LexCorp into a portable high yield vacuum cleaner."
"How do you know about all this? You are a janitor."
Joe maneuvered the prototype hovercraft towards the weather machine and closed in slowly. "That was my cover."
"Well, your janitor disguise is top notch."
"What disguise? This is the uniform of CSIS field agents, Canadian Security Intelligence Service."
"You're kidding me. You are a spy?"
"A Canadian spy, eh."
"Okay, why didn't you just tell me?"
"One, I thought I was painfully obvious. Two, I couldn't risk full exposure while that American black ops group was watching."
"Oh." It made sense to Kim, the method of this man.
"You're the world's foremost expert on Drakken and his employee, Shego. You were the natural choice for this mission. Even if certain American elements don't want you to."
"I don't know anything about weather machines!"
"That's why I was sent to train you covertly."
"Oh... My bad." Kim had the decency to look sheepish.
The storm suddenly intensified and lightning crackled around them. Joe shouted. "They picked us on their monitors. We need to get in fast and drop you in there faster! Get ready!"
"What are you going to do?!" Kim shouted to be heard across the storm.
"Draw his attention, now get ready!"
The hovercraft danced around the mini tornados forming and flew in close. Finally, one of the crackling lightning tendrils shot onto the antenna of the hovercraft and completely fried every system on board.
"Controls are shot! Get on that and finish this! Go!" Kim jumped towards the giant Vacrometer as Joe gave the signal. She flew in the air and landed on the surface of Vacrometer rolling. She came to a stop and looked at the main part that was fueling the storm. It was a huge horizontal windmill which was spewing hyper-pressured water into atmosphere.
"Think Kim, think! It was almost definitely something about a flange. Or was it a vat?" She walked on the control panel and opened it, only to feel a falling sensation in her stomach. The controls were complicated and confusing.
Kim sighed audibly, and the panel was closed shut back after that. Shego was standing with her hand on it.
She was smiling slightly. "Today's forecast, one hundred percent chance of pain!" She charged her hands with green plasma and attacked Kim.
Kim was not in the mood with playing with Shego. "Why don't you keep the bad jokes to yourself Shego?!" She avoided two slashes and then grabbed the black haired mercenary's right arm as it rotated. With a loud cry, Kim threw Shego over her shoulder and into the ground.
Shego slammed on the surface of Vacrometer and had the wind knocked out of her. 'The Princess', as she dubbed Kim, had never been able to pull something like that before. She regained focus just in time to see Kim descending on her. Shego rolled sideways and felt a punch landing where she just was.
"That must've hurt your fragile knuckles Prin- Whaaat?" Shego exclaimed when she saw what had happened.
Kim was already coming after her, and where the punch had landed, there was now a dent. In metal plating. She barely ducked below Kim's kick to her head but failed to react in time to the following punch to her stomach.
Shego's world briefly went dark and she lost track of her own position. Then her stomach heaved and she retched her lunch as pain wracked her lower abdomen.
Kim was frozen in shock. For a moment, she had fallen into the old routine with Shego.
But she was not the Kim Possible from a few months ago. She had latent powers, in which she was training to control.
Control she had just forgotten.
Shego was spasming as she barfed all the contents of her stomach. She fell down after that and barely managed to shoot a heated look at Kim.
"Wh... What the... hell... was that... Prin.. No... Possible."
Kim looked at her hands. She needed to be in control, always. She couldn't wing it like she used to do now.
She also needed to keep what she could do a secret. It'd do no one any good if people found out she had superpowers. Even without those, she had managed to make her entire city a target.
She turned to look at Shego on the ground. "I'm done playing nice. I'm done with letting people get hurt. Sorry Shego, but I'm done."
Shego had regained some of her breathing back. She cackled with a slight laughter. "Hah... And it only took your friends and their families to die... At least I won't have to deal with Drakken's... Drakkanada." Her head fell to the side, apparently fainted. Kim checked her pulse to see it was mostly normal, if a bit fast after the physical shock Shego suffered through.
She turned back to the control panel. She tried to recall the little vacuum cleaner's controls.
"Start with the output valve." She turned a valve, only for the storm to generate a hailstorm. She immediately turned that back.
"Okay, not exactly that... Damn it, why didn't I pay more attention... Gotta think..." She visualized the vacuum cleaner and tried to recall Joe's instructions. "Main output valve is connected to the filter compression tank. With a bypass located in the gear shifting transmuter!"
Even if she had paid only a piece of her mind, it was coming back to her. "Okay, so that means.."
"You're too late Kim Possible! Any second, this storm will be complete and unstoppable!" Drakken had climbed up through a hatch in the hull and was standing proud of his accomplishment.
Kim peeked from the side of the control panel to look at him, and gasped slightly as her heart lifted.
"Good thing I'm here then." Ron was standing a few meters away from Drakken, drenched from the storm as his hair lashed out in the wind.
Drakken looked puzzled. "I don't get it."
"You know, Stoppable.. To your last remark- Forget it." Ron just rushed at Drakken in close range and punched him back into the hatch. Drakken fell back inside with a cry of outrage. Strangely, the storm around them spiked for a second as he screamed, shaking everyone still on the surface of the aircraft.
Ron turned towards Kim with difficulty and pointed upwards. "End this Kim. Like, right now, since half of Ottawa River has frozen already!"
"On it!" Kim turned back to panel and recalled the details, calmly this time. "Now, I'm pretty sure that shutdown was with the hydro reflux valve." She turned the nob and watched as the generator died down.
The water Drakken had siphoned off from the river was also dumped back into it. The clouds started to disperse slowly as the artificial storm ended. The sudden shift in weight of the aircraft gave a sudden jolt in the engines. Kim held on easily, but saw the unconscious Shego rolling towards the edge of the craft.
Her silent scream died down as Ron was suddenly there and had held Shego's hand. He held on to one of the side panels with one hand while holding Shego. Kim rushed there and pulled him with little effort.
Rufus peeked out from Ron's pocket. Kim realized that he was in his everyday clothes, with burn marks and tears all around his clothes. Apparently he had sped through the vertical length of America without any appropriate friction-proof clothing.
She hoisted Shego on her shoulder and walked towards the hatch.
"We better get this thing on the ground."
Ron nodded wordlessly and opened the hatch.
The way home was a bit awkward at first. Good to his word, Luthor had provided their way back as well. The pilot for the private jet they took gave a weird look at Ron and his tattered clothes, but said nothing.
Ron sat on the opposite side from Kim on the plane. He seemed deep in thought and absolutely distant. Rufus had snuggled to Kim's lap as soon as they sat down in the plane, apparently having missed her after a few days. She sat there stroking the mole rat's head for a good half an hour before she snapped and simply plopped down the seat next to Ron.
"Will you ever speak to me like you used to, ever again? Like real friends? Or are you going to keep this 'lone wolf' act for the rest of your life?"
Ron grimaced as if something physically caused him pain. "Kim, can we not do this here?"
"No, we need to. Because we both know, as soon as your feet touches solid ground, you are a ghost. Some thirty thousand feet above ground, with nowhere to escape, this is the only place we can 'do this.' I just want you to talk to me. Is that too much to ask from my best friend?"
Ron turned his head towards the small window near his seat. He kept his silence.
"Ron, you barely speak a few words every day. You are eating the bare minimum that you need to stay alive, and you do it in the loneliest ways possible. And as soon as you see me, you try to get away! Why are you doing it?! Why won't you speak to me?"
Kim was holding on his left arm as she spoke. The grip was tender but firm, reminding Ron how trapped he was, trapped by Kim's kindness. There was no good way to speak to Kim about all the things going through his head.
"She's reaching out to you. You just need to open up." Tara's bodiless voice sounded from behind his seat. Ron's hands shook as he gripped the handles on the sides of the seats. He took in a few deep breaths to steady himself. Kim's hand on his arm offered no extra room.
After a few, precious moments of silence, Ron finally spoke. The tone startled Kim. One could easily hear the exasparation, the feeling of despair and a sense of having given up in that voice.
"I feel horrible. Okay? Whenever I am near to other people, I feel terrible. And being near you makes it worse."
Kim's hand slowly lost its grip as she processed the words with a slightly opened mouth.
"I tried to do this one thing, tried to do it as best as I can, and I failed in the worst way possible. I thought I could do some good, and my stupid idea came back to bite us all in the ass."
"Ron, it's not-"
"They are dead. Everyone I failed. Kim. They are all dead. " He stated in a stale, matter-of-fact tone. Then he fell silent again. Meanwhile, Kim was trying to come up with something to say.
Horrifying part of this conversation was that it echoed within. These were the exact same doubts that plagued her inside her mind. Her perceived failures, and Ron was apparently taking the blame for something that was entirely her fault.
"I don't know what else to say." Ron turned around and looked out the window of the jet.
Rufus sadly looked at him and then Kim, only to fall on his belly later. Kim simply sat there, physically near her best friend, but realizing that he was a world away mentally.
Kim bid farewell to Joe after school, who was returning to Canada. It wasn't the most beneficial or traditional mentoring experience, but it had worked out in the end. How she was going to put all that in her post-mentor report to Barkin, that was another matter entirely.
Ron had frequently disappeared not to come back to home later as well. Kim had not had a chance to visit him at the Crime lab to see what he was doing and who he was being mentored by, but that was supposed to end with the week anyway.
If only.
Ron was cleaning up the files and vials scattered across the lab. This was his last day in the lab as his mentor had made it clear, so he had little chance to do what he originally planned to do here. Not that he didn't sort of enjoy the work.
Like his surprising and intriguing excellence at cooking, Ron had found out he had a knack for lab work. Beyond that, his broad range of seemingly useless information retention was coming in handy to see connections between the evidence. Gregory Home was neither a welcoming nor a nurturing mentor, so it had been up to Ron to figure out what he was doing.
So he had enjoyed at least watching the forensics work. His previously short attention span not withstanding, most of his skills were applicable in the field. And his deficiency in experience and knowledge, he thought he could fill by using his speed, at least over time.
But that didn't matter. His purpose there was singular from the start, all the rest were fringe benefits.
He snuck into Home's office after checking if he was in. The older man regularly took brisk walks to clear his head while working, so it gave Ron a window to look for what he wanted to see. He began going through the filing cabinet for recent cases until he came across his objective.
He pulled the folder out and read the title.
Double Homicide. Case Officer: Eli Hobble. Victim(s): John Stoppable, Andrea Stoppable.
Ron diligently laid out the folder and started going through it. The crime scene photos were extensive and greatly infuriated him but he kept going. The crime scene unit had done well in documenting what they could find, considering that there was a bigger case that same night.
One set of tire tracks. Swerving marks hundred feet prior to overturn of the car. Evidence of blunt force damage on the driver side window prior to crash.
He had seen the autopsy report once, so he skipped it.
Case findings inconclusive. Evidence suggests outside interference at the crash but no bullet damage found on the car. A second car is out of the question as only one set of tire tracks exist.
There was a marked comment at the end of the file.
Axle steering component broken from stress, not from crash. Cause?
"Fascinating reading, I take it?" At the doorway of the office, the owner of it stood leaning on his cane.
Ron babbled incoherently at the surprise of being found. "I... That...Really...Uh..."
Home just offered a sarcastic smile. "The phrase you are looking for is 'this is not what it looks like.'"
Ron just shut up and leaned his head to the side in shock and shame. The older man kept going.
"To which I would retort with, 'So you are not going through the casefile of your parents' murder to find out the perpetrator, because you know so much better than the fine detectives of Middleton PD and one very bright forensics expert?' Yes, that would be my follow up question."
He walked over to his desk past Ron and plopped himself down on the chair. Then he swiveled the chair, extended his legs up and put them on the desk itself. He leveled a gaze and shot a knowing look at the teenager.
"So?"
"Soooo..." Ron could only repeat the exclamation, signifying his lack of responses.
The middle aged forensics expert rolled his eyes. "So what's your hypothetical answer to my hypothetically unanswered final question?"
"Uh... Yes?"
"It was not really a yes or no question, more of a rhetorical kind." His gaze kept trained on Ron's face, making the teenager almost sweat. Then he spoke in a different, more serious tone. "Ever since you wanted in for the mentorship, I was waiting for this exact moment. And I gotta say, you are not really impressive. I expected... more."
Ron fell back on his defense mechanisms. "Well, to be honest, I had a lot more to say when I simulated this in the old noggin."
The elderly man rocked back and forth in his chair as he grinned. "There we go, that snark is coming back in. Bring some more."
Ron shifted away from the desk uncomfortably, but kept his eyes on the files. "Look, I may have wanted a look into evidence and got into being tutored by you for that reason, but I thought I could see something you didn't."
His answer was a short, sharp laugh. "Well, that's funny. I wonder what quality you carry that makes you think that you can catch something I missed, oh I don't know, a doctor of twenty years and forensics expert for nine."
Ron's head lobbed to the side as he held on to the conversation, but couldn't really come up and say what he really thought.
Apparently, he didn't even need to say it. The forensics expert started listing off. "Is it because you are an unfettered genius? I'm suitably impressed by your very, very hidden intelligence below all this stupid teenager persona, but you are not one of those geniuses, so no."
He twirled his cane as he kept going. "Or is it because you have a little history of benevolent vigilantism? Can't certainly be that as what little I've seen on TV illustrates the capacity in which you functioned with Impossible."
Ron interjected. "It's Possible. Kim Possible, but that's a common mistake, don't feel bad." After the older man leveled an unimpressed look at him, the teenager had the decency to look sheepish. "Do go on."
"So which one is it? What qualifies you to look into this matter?"
Ron had no answer. Nothing that made sense, anyway, without revealing his former - or so Ron thought- extra curricular. "I...uh...You see..."
The former doctor, current forensics expert squinted comically and snapped his fingers. "Oh silly me! I forgot to add one last part!" He leaned in from his chair. "Maybe you think you are qualified to look into this because you can run fast." As Ron's eyes grew, he added. " Really, ridicilously fast." He leaned back and twirled the cane in his hand as he continued with a nonchalant attitude. "Am I close?"
Ron took a few steps backwards without realizing. He had nothing to say, no answer to give or no retorts prepared. This man had figured it out completely.
"Close the damn door ." Home pointed to the door of his office with his cane. Ron fumbled around as he tried to recompose himself and closed the door. The older man pulled one of the drawers in his desk and took something out. Then he threw it to Ron. "Catch."
Ron caught the small, glinting object in his hands. As soon as he opened them and looked at it though, he threw it on the ground like it scalded his skin.
It was a metallic ring with the lightning bolt insignia. It also had some blood on it.
Ron felt his breath getting constricted and took more steps backwards, slamming himself into the cabinet of files nearby. A few stray folders fell on his head as he breathed loudly, but he paid no heed to them. His vision had blurred, as the image of a petité blonde solidified in his mind.
Home was watching all this from his chair, some glint in his eyes, almost akin to glee.
"Such a strong reaction to a simple piece of ornament. Just a simple ring on your dead girlfriend's finger. Simple enough that the coroner deemed it a cheap personal effect. Well, I say simple, but the small pulse-transceiver under the insignia of the ring suggests otherwise. Designed to synchronize with an offsite system via satellite, if I'm correct. Of course, I'm not a tech expert, so I might be mistaken."
He rose from his chair, walked and stood in front of the teenager on the ground. "But I am rarely mistaken, and I'm right on the money, don't you think so... Flash?" The emphasis on the last word was clear.
Ron forcefully tore his gaze from the ring lying in the other side of the room and looked at Home's sneaker shoes. He spoke with a lifeless voice. "Hurray. You figured it out. Have fun with the interviews and the film rights to your book."
"Why Mr. Stoppable, I am almost going to think that you don't care what happens."
Ron raised his head slightly to look the older man in the eye, still towering above him. "Well, now that someone figured out as well, I might just as well walk to the precinct, get myself cuffed and get ready for the federal investigation. Meanwhile one or more murderers stalk the streets and all I can do is fail, again. How's that for caring?"
The cane prodded Ron on his head harshly. "Get up, get those folders together and sit down." As Ron stared blankly, the cane just prodded worse. "Anytime this century is good."
Ron got up, did as he was told and put the folders back together. He sat down on the chair across the desk from Home. The forensics expert tossed the file on his parents back to him.
"Look at the file again, just this time, read the perimeter report with an open mind." Ron did so, or at least he tried to.
One set of tire tracks. Swerving marks hundred feet prior to overturn of the car. Evidence of blunt force damage on the driver side window prior to crash.
The environmental observations on the perimeter, he had skimmed it earlier. He read it again, this time without skipping anything.
Inconclusive marks near the swerving points of the car. Doesn't match with the tires, possibly rubber burn. Six to eight feet of seperation of markings.
Ron's mind raced as he tried to come up with an explanation. Tire tracks aside, some markings on the ground didn't make any sense at all. It could've been just some random...
Six to eight feet seperation in between?...
No. Just... no.
Ron slowly raised his head from the file and looked at Home's face, now sporting a crooked, satisfied smile.
"Impossible." This was all Ron said.
"Quite so, don't you think? Then again..." Home twirled his cane without looking, his eyes fixated on Ron's. " You were impossible a short time ago as well."
"You can't think..." Ron's sentence fell apart in the middle.
"I know what killed your parents. And it took you a total of five seconds after you read the report carefully to figure out the same. Do tell me what to think and what not to think."
Ron rose in his seat and slammed his fist into the desk. "I DIDN'T KILL MY PARENTS!"
Home just looked at the angered teenager impassively. "I said what killed your parents. Not who. To my knowledge, there is a total of two individuals on the planet with the required specialty."
Ron sat back, dumbfounded. "T - Two?"
"Indeed. There are only two known individuals with the required running speed to leave those marks on the ground. One of them, around the estimated time of death, was encased in a block of ice, trying to break free. That same person is now in this room. Given that your alibi, and the victims being your parents, I find this one highly unlikely."
The forensics expert sighed and slightly rocked in his chair. "However, second individual is just as ridicilous to suspect."
"Who?! Who do you think has the same speed?!"
Home chuckled. "Come on now, you know. It just didn't occur to you yet." As Ron's angered face peered close, he sighed. "Oh well, a hint then? You might be the fastest human, but there is someone on the planet who is not human."
Ron's eyes grew as the second prospect's identity hit him dead on. "Oh come the fuck on! The alien?!"
"He can run just as fast."
Ron waved his arms wildly as he slumped back into the chair. "He can also fly! He would not need to run!"
Home threw Ron a smile, a genuine one, as far as the teen speedster could tell. "Exactly. Now you are using your head."
"Wait wha-?"
"You didn't say he wouldn't do something like this, or how he was a 'good guy' or something along those lines. Instead, you made a logical extrapolation given the data."
Ron was now confused. "And that's a good thing?"
"Hah. It takes the better part of five years for an average forensics trainee to learn that lesson. Evidence is evidence, and what it says are absolute. Most people either make the evidence work for or against their conclusions in their minds. Precious few construct a picture with the intent of making it work for the evidence itself."
He got up from his chair, went to a cabinet and rummaged it. Finally, he pulled out a single file. He threw that to Ron.
"You see Stoppable, I have seen you walking and skulking around. I have seen what you have seen, and you have seen much. You just don't let what you have seen cut through that thin façade of laziness you project, and the recent coating of the self loathing and pity."
Ron looked at the file. It was a mentor's report on the performance of the temporary trainee.
Impressive insight... Correct mindset... Adequate intelligence...
Report was almost glowing, by Home's standards at least.
Home pointed to the door with his cane again. "You are done for now Stoppable. That report is for your advising teacher. As for you... Get your head back in the game. I really need an errand boy around here to slave for part time wage, but I need a half functional teenager for that, not a broken weepy kid."
XXXXXXXXXXX
Ending Song: Extreme Music - Never Surrender
XXXXXXXXXXX
Ron was dumbfounded, again. "But what about the-"
"Take that ring with you as well. Something tells me you will want it." As Ron hesitated, the older man pressured him. "Chop chop!"
Ron looked at the ring for a few seconds, then took it with a shaking hand and pocketed it.
He turned around to leave, muttering a silent 'thank you' to the old forensics expert.
Home just twirled the cane as he spoke. "I'll see you in a month or so."
"All units are advised to stay away from Centennial Park until further notice. Divert all civilians from the area. Repeat, clear civilians away from the Centennial Park. Some sort of freak tornado has broken out in the middle."
"Control, what if Superman shows?"
"Orders hold. Over."
A very strong wind was tearing through every tree and leaf in the middle of the Centennial park. It didn't seem to let up, until an almost unnoticeable blur moved towards it under the cover of midnight darkness.
Clark Kent, his hair completely a mess and his glasses crooked, tried to take a look at the small tornado behind a tree. He was one bad move away from going back into super speed and come back in costume. As soon as he arrived though, the tornado began to disperse.
His enhanced hearing was blocked by the powerful winds of the lingering tornado, so he didn't hear the slight rustling behind him.
Until, that is, the source of that rustling spoke.
"I saw you."
Completely caught unaware, something very unusual for him, Clark spun around and tried his best to look like, well, 'Clark.'
"I-I-I have... no idea what you are talking about." He made sure to take out a notepad and a pen out of his pocket, to sell his usual look of a reporter. Then he took a look at the speaker, a hooded person hiding deeper in a dark spot in the park.
"I was not sure if this would get your attention, but it did. So, one point for me."
"What do you mean when you say you 'saw me'?"
The speaker snorted and took a step forward. "What do you think, I saw you arriving in superspeed, hiding under the trees to look inconspicuous."
Clark Kent tried to laugh slightly as he knew someone seeing him in superspeed was highly improbable.
"Wow, you have an active imagination. I just ran normally to get here. I'm a reporter you see and -"
The hooded person took more steps forward and let a few nearby lamp posts illuminate his form. Clark Kent took notice of the red hoodie with dark pants. A few locks of blond hair could be seen under the hood.
"I don't need to know your name, really. I'm not looking to expose you. I just want an answer to a single question."
Clark slightly dropped his persona after he was sure that no one else was around. There was something really off with the hooded person in front of him. It was impossible to focus on his form, without his super vision. It looked like the person was slightly... Vibrating.
"Okay... But who are you?"
"I don't know your name, you don't know mine, let's keep it that way." The voice was also distorted a bit, but the tone of being tired was apparent. "I just wanna know, what were you doing last Valentine's day?" The voice also gave the feeling of having given up, at least to Clark's incredibly sharp hearing.
"I... Wait, what?"
"Valentine's. February 14th. I mean come on, you are an alien and everything, but you gotta have heard of it."
Clark couldn't help himself and chuckled slightly. "Yea, make fun of the alien, real classy. For your information, I know more than enough about Valentine's."
"And? Where were you?"
"I... Okay, I might have been with a certain person, having a little private dinner." While he talked, Clark let his super vision activate and looked under the hood and past the vibrating visage. It was a blonde teenager under there.
Said teenager stood silent, then shook his head. "Okay."
"Okay? That's... it?"
"Yea, no reason to not believe you."
"Okay, what the hell is going-"
The hooded form blurred and exploded away from him, quickly fading into the treeline and the darkness of the park.
"On?"
He had half a mind to take off after the weird teen, but the meeting was pretty harmless and he wanted to get home and catch a movie before some calamity broke out in the city again.
So he let the issue go. The face of the teenager was familiar, but he could do the figuring out later.
"Feels like I should be more concerned about someone moving as fast as me." He shrugged. "At least it isn't boring around here." He too blurred into darkness after that.
To be Continued in: Ronin Part 2 - Red Rage Redemption
A.N: So. It's been months. Biggest reason why this took so long, academics. The university is killing me. I was also sick for a few weeks, nothing major, but it killed any downtime I had on sleeping to get better. And some little (!) time was also devoted to Dragon Age: Inquisition. Thank you Bioware for killing any free time I have left.
One other reason is that this chapter, the entire Ronin was supposed to be one part of a storytelling, since it contains a theme throughout the chapter. Over time, though, the content grew and grew on the little time I could devote to it, evolving into a little novella in itself. Hence, I'm cutting it into two parts. Here's the first. It's still 19K words long, so imagine the second part in a story of its own.
I hope you all are not angry at me, and won't hold back the reviews. I plan to do the updates in smaller bits from now on, for consistency's sake.
