*insert witty banter here*
It had been nearly a month after he had discovered he could control and create plant life other than his own vines, and Drew was still no closer to understanding it than when he'd first discovered it. Still, it was something to occupy his time with, he thought to himself.
He was currently sitting outside, leaning against a tree next to the Possible household. He and Sheena were living here for the interim; it was deemed safer to be with the Possibles, rather than alone in their house in California, which Drew honestly doubted was still standing. Not that he really minded; Sheena and the baby were safe, and that was all that mattered.
Drew sighed and leaned back further against the tree, closing his eyes as he listened to the summer breeze though the leaves, and the soft voice that he heard in his mind. Ah, yes...another ability he found to possess -he could 'hear' plants 'talk'. They 'spoke' to him, and he could even use them as 'spies' in a sense; it had finally made sense to him why he could hear the talking downstairs from his room upstairs through that fern. The plants provided communication for him. A connection, if you will.
Wade's comments about him 'controlling' plants had sparked an interest inside of him, and being the naturally inquisitive person he was, Drew had begun experimenting with his powers, just to see what he could really do with them. The results...well, they had been shocking, to say the very least.
Going back to the point of his healing, Mrs. Dr. Possible had taken the skin sample and looked at it under a microscope, and found that his skin contained microbiotic plant fibers that spun themselves back together at a rapid pace. To prove that point, she cut into his hand with a scalpel, and everyone watched with morbid fascination as his skin stitched itself back together in front of their eyes in under five minutes. So if his organs HAD been damaged by that shot of power that 'Z' had thrown at him, the plant fibers had already healed it by the time he arrived at the Possibles'.
As far as controlling plants went, Wade also made another point to Drew -everything responded better to him based on his emotions. In a fit of uncontrollable rage, the plants responded by growing uncontrollably, and even attacking people. Once his rage was under control, the plants became controllable, too.
Creating plant life was a little trickier; Drew had to WILL the life into existance, which took quite a bit of willpower to bring to life just one flower, and even then, he had to have a base to work from. Starting with a random patch of clean earth and trying to grow some common shamrocks nearly caused him to pass out from the exertion. But it still proved that he COULD do it.
Sheena figured that that was about as far as his plant powers went, but Drew had a feeling deep down that it WASNT all he could do. It felt like he had just taken a few sips of water out of an entire lake, and there was still so much more left. So, without anyone else's knowledge, Drew began to experiment more. Most of it was fruitless, pardon the pun, and for nearly a month, he came up with very few results. However, there was one VERY large recent acquiration that Drew would peg off as a success in endevours.
It happened very recently, just a week ago; it was evening and Drew was sitting under a tree, contemplating his powers and trying to figure out what exactly else he could do with them, and had mentally snorted at that old saying from nearly every comic book he had read, about some wise old mage telling the hero to 'become one' with their powers to embrace them. Well, that was all fine and dandy, but 'becoming one'? The hell did that even MEAN? He was too busy contemplating the meaning of 'becoming one' with his powers that he didnt realize that he was MELDING into the tree he was leaning against until the evening sky vanished from his view.
Naturally, he panicked and began wildly thrashing about inside of the tree -and making it grow thicker, taller, with more abundant foliage in the process- until he finally managed to stumble out of it on the other side from where he had been sitting.
After catching his breath and making sure he wouldnt be suffering from a heart attack anytime soon, Drew hesitantly put his hand on the tree, 'hearing' its apolgies to him for the scare, and mentally focused on 'becoming one' with it. Immediately, his hand began to meld in with the tree and he managed to get it up to his elbow before he thought that it was enough, and retracted his hand.
...So he can 'become one' with plants, too? Lord forgive him for the adolescent statement, but AWESOME.
That was a week ago, and he'd gotten better at it, to the point where he didnt do it at random and freak out when it did happen. Now, he was content to sit back and let the plants 'talk' to him; he had long discovered how to 'turn them off' if need be, but they were quite docile at evening time...
"Drew?"
Drew looked up to see James Possible stading a small distance away. They werent best friends by a long shot, but they were on friendly terms with each other, all things considered. "Anne said it's dinnertime."
"Thank you, James," Drew replied, standing up and brushing himself off. He followed Mr. Dr. Possible to the house for dinner, but right before they went in, James put a hand on Drew's shoulder.
"...Drew, is there something bothering you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. Drew gave his old college roomate a quick glare.
"You mean besides the fact that I'm living in fear of my fiance and unborn child being harmed every waking moment?" he replied. James blinked, then nodded.
"...Yes, actually...besides that," he said. "Something's been on your mind lately..." He broke off when Drew raised a hand for silence.
"I dont wish to discuss it with you, James," he replied tersely. He sighed. "Listen. I'm grateful that you've allowed Sheena and I to stay here for safety, and I thank you for it...but there's something bigger that's going on...something personal, that I dont want to let anyone else in on, least of all Sheena. The last thing she needs is stress knowing I've..." He cut himself off, biting at his lower lip. "...It's just not up for discussion."
Mr. Dr. Possible was quiet for a moment. "Alright, Drew," he said, opening the front door. "Just...nothing too dangerous, alright? I dont want you hurting yourself." Drew paused.
"...What do you know?" he asked suspicously. James only gave him a half-grin.
"Nothing you dont want me to repeat," he replied cryptically, then led them both in to dinner.
It was now eleven-fourty-two at night. Drew was still awake, sitting up in bed and staring into nothing as he gave his current situation some very deep thought.
It was Ron 'Who-Now-Calls-Himself-'Z'' Stoppable that was behind all of this, and even though 'Z' had made it clear that Kim was the prime candidate for the massive amounts of hurt he was about to unleash on the Earth, he had attacked Drew's fiance and threatened the life of their unborn child. THAT made this situation very personal.
Drew had a very distinct feeling that he was going to have a hand in saving the world. Again. But this time, he actually WANTED to. He and Sheena had tried so hard to stay on the 'good' side of the law for the past two-and-a-half years, and had honest livings. And now, they were trying to get married and start a family, something Drew had once lost all hope of having with anyone.
And it was almost taken away from him in the blink of an eye.
He ran a shaking hand through his hair as he thought about what might have happened if his vines hadnt jumped in when they did. Sheena would have been gravely injured. Their baby would have been dead. Drew felt his vines writhe beneath his skin in response to his fury at the very thought, and forced himself to calm down. He sighed and looked to his left, where Sheena was sleeping peacefully.
...God, he loved her so much. He didnt know what he would do if anything happened to her. He reached over and gently smoothed out her hair, then went back to staring at the wall.
His father had always told him that a husband's number-one job was to protect his family, no matter what. Sure, those words meant basically nothing to a ten-year-old, but looking in on it now, they couldnt be more true. All Drew wanted to do now was protect Sheena, especially since she couldnt fight in her condition. If 'Z' ever tried to attack them again, he wanted to fight back. He NEEDED to fight back. For Sheena. For their child.
...Even for himself.
He HAD power...he just didnt really know HOW to use it in a combat-productive manner...
...Wait a minute.
He was having another one of those 'epiphany' moments; they were rare and didnt come often, so Drew had learned to follow them as they came.
Keeping that epiphany in mind, Drew finally laid down and pulled the covers up. He had a lot of thinking to do while he slept.
Kim woke up around five-fifteen, and couldnt get herself back to sleep. There was just too much on her mind, too much to worry about. She laid in bed for about fifteen more minutes before sighing and getting dressed to head downstairs; if she was going to be up this early, then she needed coffee.
She went downstairs, only to have the smell of coffee already hovering in the air from the kitchen, and peeked inside to see Drew already up and sipping his own cup. He looked up when she walked in, and they shared an awkward moment of silence. Even though Drew had been there a month, they hadnt been in the same room alone in that whole time.
It was Drew who broke the silence. "I made coffee, if you want some," he said, shifting his eyes back to the window. Kim made a noncommital sound and poured herself a cup, taking it black. She eyed the kitchen table for a moment before sighing and sitting down across from her former arch nemesis.
More awkward silence.
"...I have a favor to ask of you," Drew finally said, getting Kim's attention. She blinked and looked up from her coffee to see Drew looking at her almost nervously, but with a solid resolution in his eyes. She slowly nodded.
"...Go on," she said. Drew seemed to fight with his words in his own mind for a moment, trying to word it just right in his head.
"...I need you to help me...use my powers," he began slowly. Kim arched a brow.
"I'm not the one with the plant powers, Drakken," she replied. "I wouldnt even know where to start..."
"No, no, not...not like that..." Drew took a long contemplative sip of his coffee before speaking again. "I'm working on my powers on my own...figuring out just what they can do...but...that's NOT what I need help with."
"Then what DO you need my help with?" Kim asked, honestly intrigued. Drew's cheeks turned an interesting shade of violet as he found his nearly-empty coffee cup fascinating.
"...I need help...using my powers...the way Sheena uses hers," he finally said. He paused to see if Kim caught on. No dice. He sighed. "...For fighting."
The awkwardness was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
"...You want ME..." Kim finally spoke up after several LONG moments of silence, "...to teach YOU how to FIGHT...?"
The violet darkened slighly in color. "...Yes," he replied. "I want you to teach me how to fight."
More silence.
"...Why?" Kim finally asked. Drew sighed and turned his attention fully to her.
"I know that YOU are the hero, what with your 'save the world' thing," he replied, "but what 'Z' has done is personal to me. He attacked my fiance, nearly killed my unborn child, and damn near killed ME." His hand clenched around the coffee mug, and Kim absently noticed a small crack appear in it. "I've thought about this, and I know the risks of engaging in actual combat with him, but I WANT to. I want to FIGHT for my family. I want to help you."
Kim quietly contemplated his words for a few moments, weighing the pros and cons of actually going through with it. Drew stared at her with anticipation in his eyes for the longest time before she finally sighed.
"I've never 'taught' anyone to fight before," she began slowly, her voice devoid of acceptance or rejection; she kept it neutral. "The most I'll probably be able to teach you are the basics...the rest of it...I dont know..." She ran a hand through her red hair and took a final swig of her coffee.
"I can give you 100% dedication," Drew replied, his voice firm with absolution. "And quite frankly, the basics are all I think I'll need. If I can take those basics and incorperate my own powers into them...I think I'll be able to fight and fend for myself."
They shared a look between them that nonverbally sealed the deal.
"When can you start?" Kim finally asked.
"After my second cup of coffee."
Six months.
Six long...difficult...BLOODY AGONIZING months.
THAT was how long Monkey Fist trained himself in the true Mystical Monkey arts. And THAT was how long Monkey Fist went with minimal results after maximum effort. The training itself was not so much as physical, as it was spiritual; yes, he spent about a month getting back into shape, but after that, Sensei told him that most of the mastery of the Mystical Monkey Power was spiritual.
Suffice to say, 90% of Monkey Fists's waking moments were spent in meditation. And in the five months to follow, he managed to tap into a bit of his own Mystical Monkey Power, which appeared in the color gold, the color of his own chi, as apposed to Ron Stoppable's blue. But he found that he could do very little with it.
Sensei told him that there was still so much untapped within him, and that information kept eating away at him on the inside to the point of frustration. If he was capable of so much -if he was meant for so much more greatness- then why wasnt it working for him? What was wrong? What was missing?
Such was what he was contemplating in the late evening, as he was training by himself to access more of his MMP in the form of usable energy. He had looked over some scrolls that had script that could only appear in the presence of MMP, and he found that a Monkey Master had the ability to mould and focus their chi into usable 'weaponry', ranging from the force of a strong gust of wind to an explosion of a bomb, to the sharpness of a razor; it all depended on the intent.
But no matter how much Monkey Fist 'intended' with his power, nothing seemed to work. He could barely release his energy with a force stronger than a gentle wind gust, he couldnt focus his chi into anything other than a glow, and a razor-swipe of the chi couldnt cut through butter.
And worst of blasted all, the Lotus Blade had refused to work for him.
He had been able to change the form of the Blade before, but now, it felt like cold, empty steel in his hands. Nothing special. So suffice to say, he was 'not ready'.
Monkey Fist was so close to accessing that MMP, he could literally taste it, but it wasnt coming. He stood in the middle of an empty room, his hands held out in front of him, palms facing each other, as he tried to force the MMP out into something other than a soft glow. He was so close...SO CLOSE...but it wouldnt budge. He'd been trying for hours now, keeping in firm, unbreakable concentration, to push past that wall that kept him from his well of power, but nothing. NOTHING would make it go away.
And he was becoming very quickly agitated. He was becoming angry. Bitter, hateful thoughts began plagueing his mind; thoughts of being cheated out of his destiny; thoughts of letting the true power slip through his fingers. And even worse, thoughts of failure, inadequacy, and worthlessness.
Those last thoughts finally made him lose his concentration, and he felt the connection to the MMP break. He stood in the middle of the room in dead silence for a moment before letting out an inhuman shriek of rage and falling to his knees to punch the stone ground, creating a small crater where his fist hit it.
"IT'S NOT FAIR!" he screamed into the empty room. "IT'S NOT FAIR, IT'S NOT FAIR, IT'S NOT BLOODY FAIR!" He punched the ground again, and again, not caring if his knuckles were breaking, not caring who heard. He finally slammed his fist into the ground one more time before hearing a loud crack as several bones in his hand snapped, and bit back a cry of pain. He sat in the quiet for a few moments before lifting his other hand to his face, and feeling wetness coat his fingers.
Tears. He was crying. CRYING. And once that fact became known, he couldnt stop. More tears poured unwittingly from his eyes, and the sobs soon followed. And the worst part was, Monkey Fist didnt even know what exactly he was crying about.
Alone, he sat sobbing in the room, until he felt someone put a cloak around his shoulders. His head snapped up to see Sensei looking mournfully down at him, his eyes full of worry at his suffering. Monkey Fist quickly wiped the tears from his eyes, but to no avail. They had been seen, and they refused to stop coming.
"I know you believe that your destiny is unfair, Fiske-san," Sensei spoke, getting Monkey Fist's attention, "but what is truely unfair is the gift you are denying yourself, because you think it is unfair."
Monkey Fist scowled to himself and pulled the cloak tighter around him; it was getting colder here, and being in the mountains didnt help. "...All my life," he said, his voice sounding as dead as his soul felt, "...I've felt that I deserved to be the Ultimate Monkey Master. I trained for it. I sacrificed for it. I've done everything imaginable to attain it...only to have it snatched away from me by a CHILD." He let out a mirthless bark of laughter. "...A child who was scared to death of the creatures he was supposed to be patroning...a child who had no respect for the power he'd been gifted with..." He scowled, his uninjured fist clenching. "A child who is now using that power as a fuel for the upcoming apocalypse." He shifted his dark blue eyes to Sensei. "Tell me how THAT is FAIR!"
Sensei stared back at Monkey Fist for a few more moments before sighing and shifting his gaze upward, where stars were visible in the cold sky. "Just because you do not have the title of 'Ultimate Monkey Master' does not make your destiny any less important," he finally said. "You are still destined to be A Monkey Master, a position that is still very revered and respected among those who study Tai Shing Pek Kwar, and the ways of the Monkey." He paused for a moment. "You are familiar with the four jade monkey statues, yes?"
Monkey Fist frowned, but nodded; of course he was. It was how he attained the MMP in the first place.
"Back when Mystical Monkey Power was used more frequently a thousand or two years ago, out of all those who bore the power, there was one who stood above all others. The Ultimate Monkey Master. He or she had the most access to the power, not because of some fluke, but because they were Chosen Ones from birth." He paused once more, as though contemplating whether or not to tell what he had to say to Monkey Fist. "I believe, Fiske-san, that when you set out to attain Ultimate Monkey Mastery, you were not entirely informed of exactly what you were seeking."
Monkey Fist resisted the urge to retort; very true, he didnt know EVERYTHING about MMP, but he knew that when he attained Ultimate Mastery, it would come to him.
"Fiske-san...this is something that Stoppable-sama did not know, and still does not know, though I fear he is slowly but surely becoming aware of..." He sighed. "...The Ultimate Monkey Master, Fiske-san...is on the same level as a god, when in comparison to mere humans."
Monkey Fist's eyes widened. "A...a GOD?" he stammered, suddenly feeling very ill. Sensei nodded.
"The Omega One is, indeed, one of godlike proportions," he said somberly. "For only a god among humans can achieve that which The Omega One seeks to attain...total annihilation." He looked back down at Monkey Fist. "But all others with the Mystical Monkey Power...those who trained and accepted their destinies...became Monkey Masters themselves. They became the seconds-in-command to the Ultimate Monkey Master; they supported, protected, and faught for the Ultimate Monkey Master..."
"...And as a Monkey Master, I am being made to fight AGAINST the Ultimate Monkey Master?" Monkey Fist growled in disdain. "It makes no sense."
"...It makes sense, when you read accounts of rogue Ultimate Monkey Masters," Sensei replied solemnly. "The jade statues were hidden because the last Ultimate Monkey Master before Stoppable-sama became rogue, and wished death upon rival nations. She decided to annihilate all of her foes...and the women and children as well." He shook his head sadly. "...But that is where the other Monkey Masters stepped in. They are meant to protect the Ultimate Monkey Masters...even against themselves.
"Fiske-san, the Mystical Monkey Power knows when it is being misused, and although it cannot resist the call to its Ultimate Master, it CAN aid the other Masters who wish to use it for good in defeating the Ultimate Master." He paused again, seeing the spark of realization come to Monkey Fist's eyes. "Do you see now, Fiske-san? Your destiny is not Ultimate Mastery, but it IS Mastery nonetheless. You have the opportunity to be given the power to bring down the Ultimate Master for the sake of good and bring balance back to the Earth. THAT is your destiny, and it is NOT a small, meaningless one, either."
Monkey Fist reflected on everything that Sensei had just told him; it was overwhelming, to say the very least. His true destiny was to defeat a god and save the world from the apocalypse. Sensei was correct -that was NOT a small destiny, nor a meaningless one. It was a destiny that even...overshadowed what he THOUGHT his 'true destiny' was...
...His true destiny.
He felt a warm sensation in his core and absently put his injured hand over it. Yes, he thought. His true destiny. He WAS meant for greatness! He WAS meant for power! He was meant to SAVE the world, not destroy it or rule it. THAT was his destiny!
A sudden flaring of his inner core erupted at that very last thought, and Monkey Fist was engulfed in a golden light. He could feel the wall around his well of power break, and...the power. The POWER he felt! Good gods above, it was...indescribable! If THIS was what his destiny felt like, then he welcomed it with arms wide open with the vow to fulfill it to the fullest extent of his ability!
The light faded gently as Monkey Fist brought himself back to the present, and he suddenly felt energized, well, and unbroken. He looked at the hand he had broke, and flexed it, finding that it was healed completely. Astonishing...
"Fiske-san."
He turned to see Sensei holding a familiar case out to him. The Lotus Blade. Monkey Fist flexed his hands for a moment before holding one up and summoning the Blade to it. Without a moment's hesitation, the Blade flew to his hand, where it emitted a pulse of power, and shape-shifted into a beautifully-crafted Kwan Dao. Monkey Fist gave it a few test swings, and with each stroke of the blade, he heard 'singing'...happy 'singing'.
It had finally accept him.
Monkey Fist smiled a true smile for perhaps the first time in nearly a decade, and willed the Lotus Blade back to its original katana form. Sensei smiled at Monkey Fist.
"You are ready," he said, giving Monkey Fist a bow. Monkey Fist returned it, and put the Blade back into the case.
"What now?" he asked the elder Master. Sensei gestured for Monkey Fist to follow, and walked them both to a building outside the vicinity of the rest of the school.
"Fulfillment of the Prophesy," Sensei told him. He walked up to an alter, where a scroll lay unrolled and presented for Monkey Fist to read. As the Monkey Master read, Sensei continued speaking. "You are meant to save the world, Fiske-san, and you have it within the power to do so..." He paused, waiting for Monkey Fist to catch up in the reading.
"...But you will need help."