Disclaimer: I don't own Kim Possible or any of its characters or concepts.

Author's Notes: I got about halfway through writing this chapter when I suddenly realised that this entire section of the story was dragging out too long. As such I decided to rewrite the entire thing and get the story moving along at a more acceptable pace. Because of this you'll find that this chapter starts off a few days after the end of the last chapter but the jump shouldn't be too problematic. There were a couple of scenes I was sorry to lose but I just couldn't make a decent chapter out of them. I should also point out that my original characters feature heavily in this chapter but hopefully that won't prove too annoying to you.

Chapter 21: Demon

The labs in the Global Justice headquarters were quieter than usual, due largely to the presence of the organisation's one-eyed commander. Leaning on the railing of an upper floor, Betty was staring down intently with her one good eye at one of the scientists below. "Are you sure about this? This is significant, I can't afford for you to be wrong."

Sweating a little under the brunette's gaze, the scientist nodded his head firmly. "I'm positive ma'am, I've run the tests five times already and gotten the same result each time. I'd stake my reputation on these findings." Although his current work for GJ was top-secret the man had received considerably acclaim in his earlier career for his genetic-research innovations.

Taking a moment to consider her subordinate's claims, Betty sighed loudly. Though she had expected many things when she entered the labs what she had actually been told had not been one of them. It wasn't really a bad thing, a plus really, but she didn't like surprises. "I just want to know one more thing Dr. Jenks. Would he be able to feel it?"

The scientist cast his eyes downwards at the question, wishing he could respond in the negative but knowing he could not. "Yes, he should be able to feel it, though I cannot even begin to fathom what it must feel like." He knew the person he was speaking of was meant to be their enemy but still… what he was describing was not a fate he would wish on anyone.

Being GJ's chief genetic researcher, Dr. Jenks had been in charge of running experiments on the small sample of Nathaniel's blood that had been recovered from the entry hall of the Lowerton facility. The aim of the tests had been to try and find some way to counter the energy blasts the swordsman fired but instead he had discovered a shocking truth.

The power Nathaniel generated was near pure energy, flowing through his veins to reach every single part of his body. Had the energy been truly pure it would have been white but there were impurities within it, turning both the energy and the mutant's blood an inky black. It was the source of these impurities that had shocked Dr. Jenks. The energy was literally eating away at its host's body, consuming his bodily tissue as fuel and breaking apart the very bonds that held his cells together.

The process was extremely slow, only barely noticeable at a cellular level, but its progress was nevertheless dramatic. It was not something a human body could maintain, no matter how inhumanly strong it was. One thing was abundantly clear, Nathaniel was dieing, fast. Sooner or later his body would no longer be able to sustain the energy's demands and would quite simply wear itself out. At most he had only a month left to live, if he was lucky.

Above the lamenting scientist, Betty slowly turned her attention to the greying man standing beside her. "What do you make of this? He's dieing and yet he continues to fight for that man. Why?" For the most part she wanted to know if there was a way to break Nathaniel's loyalty but part of her also wanted to understand how the young male could stand to fight for the man who had essentially killed him.

Adjusting his spectacles, Dr. Ikkens for once didn't consult his ever-present clipboard before responding. "To face ones own death, to know it is coming, is a powerful thing indeed. Most people would question their convictions. For this Nathaniel character to remain loyal to one such as Brad in such circumstances is… irregular. Something must have happened, something in his past. Whatever it was he must feels he owes his master… everything."

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Just about as far north as you can get without hitting ice, the frozen wastes of Siberia are not the kind of place that should be traversed in anything less than several layers of thick winter clothing. The small figure of a boy trudging his way through the snow and chilling wind however was not obeying this simple rule. Indeed the child, who could not have been older than five or six, was wearing nothing at all, the blood spilling from his form the only thing supplying him with even the smallest amount of insulation against the cold.

Looking at him it was difficult to comprehend how he was even able to keep moving, how he could possible hope to survive in the harsh environment that surrounded him. His frail, malnourished body sported far too many injuries for one of such a young age, with his upper half having by far received the worse of it. Cuts and bruises covered his chest and arms, some of the wounds open and bleeding while others were covered with freshly formed scabs. Though most had been dealt by the hands of others some of those adorning his arms were clearly self-inflicted.

If his chest and arms were bad though than his back was a hundred times worst. Long bloody scars ran across it in every direction, the fresh covering the old in a grotesque pattern of blood and battered skin. Continued movement had caused some that had closed to reopen and a veritable curtain of gore flowed down the boy's back, only the cold air that whipped across it stopping him from bleeding out completely. Even if it slowed down the bleeding somewhat the air was not a welcome companion, digging its way into the open wounds and tearing at the weakened flesh.

Such damage alone should have been enough to stop the child in his tracks but the worse injury by far was the one that had been dealt to his left shoulder. Unlike most children his age the boy knew what it felt like to take a rifle round to the shoulder, to have flesh and bone blasted apart by a deadly metal projectile. Not only had the bullet broken the joint apart but it had shattered his upper left ribs as well, puncturing his left lung with splinters of bone and forcing him to breath through his right alone. The wound generated rivers of blood that flowed all the way to his fingertips and rendered his left arm completely useless.

Despite such crippling injuries the child moved on, his eyes showing a peculiar mixture of unbreakable determination and seething rage. The tip of a short ceremonial sword dragged through the thick snow behind him, the handle gripped tightly in his right hand and the blade covered with blood that was not his own. The weapon was lifted with what little strength the boy had left as he entered a small clump of trees and for the first time in hours encountered another human in the frozen wilderness.

Seated on the trunk of a fallen tree, the clearing's other occupant didn't seem concerned that a blood-soaked child was brandishing a sword at him. He did notice that the boy's appearance was strange apart from his injuries, with his skin almost as white as the snow around him but his hair as black as night. The man himself had a more typical complexion though his platinum blonde hair was already beginning to show signs of grey despite him only being in his late twenties.

For a long moment the two simply stared at each other, two pairs of grey eyes meeting in an intense exchange. One pair was raging and held an unquestionable will to survive, the other spoke of power hidden beneath a thin veil of civility and restraint. The blonde man was surprised that the boy had the guts to meet his gaze so evenly, his sword held steadily before him.

Calmly pushing himself to his feet, the fully-clothed male towered menacingly over his visitor. "Who are you little one?" No response was forthcoming and for a brief moment the child looked confused. Realising his mistake, the man repeated his query in Russian and was pleased to see comprehension in the boy's eyes.

If anything the child's rage appeared to build as he answered the question in his own broken Russian, the response nevertheless understandable to the older male. "They didn't give me a name. They said I didn't need it. All they ever call me… is Demon." The way he said the last word made it abundantly clear that he detested the title he had been branded with.

Something about the small boy triggering his interest, the man decided to test how far the child could push himself in his already weakened state. "So that is the reason you appear the way you do? Only a demon could appear as you. Is that not correct, little Demon?" Even as he spoke he could see the pale child's rage building, his expression becoming almost feral.

The sound of his hated title ringing in his head, the boy tightened his grip on his sword. "I told them I told them I told them I told them!! I'M NOT A DEMON!!!" Screaming like an injured animal he charged forward, swinging out with his blade at the one who had dared question his humanity. The rapid movement was agony on his body but he didn't care, it didn't matter anymore.

Pleased by the reaction he had received the man almost carelessly swung out with his left arm, striking the side of the boy's sword and sending it spiraling from his grip to land harmlessly in the snow. Before the child could even react to the loss of his weapon he was struck in the chest by the man's open right palm, his small body sent flying into a nearby tree by the force of the blow.

Unable to suppress an agonised scream as his injured back met the tree, the boy slid down the trunk until he was sitting brokenly in the snow. The terrible wound in his shoulder exploded in pain, almost as if it wanted to remind him that it was still his most serious concern. Every nerve in his body told him that he had to stop, that to fight on was suicide. Barely able to focus on anything beyond the pain he nevertheless lowered his right hand to the ground.

Looking on with a hint of curiousity, the man smiled slightly as the boy began attempting to lever himself up despite his obvious pain. "You interest me boy. That drive you have is unlike anything I've ever seen. Your will to survive is unquestionable, absolute. Your body is spent, you should be dead, and yet you would continue to fight." Looking to the side at the bloodied sword lying in the snow he allowed himself to frown slightly in thought. "Tell me what has happened to you boy. What brought you here?"

Somewhat confused by the sudden change of attitude in his companion, the dark-haired child took a moment to respond. When he finally did speak his words were full of anger and hate, broken slightly by the blood flowing freely from his mouth. "He said I… I was the reason they died. He blamed… the sickness on me. They tried to sacrifice me… to kill me like they had always wished to do." His eyes swiveled slightly to fix on his distant weapon. "He wanted to plunge it through my heart but I… I plunged it through his instead. They tried… to kill me for it." His eyes moved to his damaged shoulder. "I ran. They shot me. I kept running."

From the moment he was born the boy had known not a single moment of happiness. He did not know who his father was and his mother had supposedly died in the process of giving birth, leaving him to be raised at the village's orphanage. His appearance had quickly led the other children to fear him and the adults to hate him, branding him with his detested title. He was always the last fed, if he was fed at all. Even as a baby he was punished severely for even the slightest misbehaviour, or sometimes just because someone felt like hitting him.

Eventually he was thrown out of the orphanage completely, barely more than two years old and left to fend for himself in the bitter cold. Forced to eat whatever he could get his hands on, he had done his best to endure the taunts and rocks the other children hurled at him. Harder to ignore where the beatings he received from the adults and adolescents, many of them leaving him bleeding and half-dead in the snow. Were he ever to make a retaliatory swing he would be strung up and whipped to within an inch of his life.

Even the boy himself didn't know how long he had gone on in such a way but he did know how it had ended. Sickness had come to the village, killing some of the older residents and infecting many more. The local priest, the one who had proclaimed the child a demon in the first place, claimed that he was the cause of the sickness and that he needed to be sacrificed immediately. No-one had objected, no-one had cared. It was in truth a very backwards village, more concerned with archaic religious rites than the technology of the world.

For a little while he had almost considered giving in and allowing himself to be killed but even if he hated his life he still desired to live. So instead of giving in, he had plunged the priest's own sword through his beating heart and then ran for his life. He had been pursued and one of the villagers had managed to shoot his shoulder but somehow he had managed to lose them in the snow despite gross physical disadvantage. Problem was the frozen landscape was just as dangerous as the villagers, merely offering a slower death.

Impressed that the boy had managed to evade an untimely fate, the man allowed his lips to twist into a minute smirk as an idea came to mind. "Tell you what kid, I'll make you a deal. Swear your loyalty to me, allow me to make you stronger, and I will help you kill anyone who dares to call you Demon. Do we have a deal?"

His attempts to rise halted by the unexpected proposition, the injured child could hardly believe his ears. He had never expected anyone to offer him aid, having thought the entire world was surely against him as the villagers had been. Was the rest of the world different than the hell he had been raised in?

Taking the silence as a sign of consideration, the man crouched down to look the boy in the eyes. "How about it kid? Time to make a decision. If you refuse I'll have no choice but to just leave you here to die."

Coughing once to clear his mouth of blood, the boy stared intently into the blonde's eyes, searching for the truth of his words. He could not be sure but he did not think the man was lying and his offer was more than worth any risk. "If you will really help me then I will follow you in anything, I swear it. I don't care what I have to do, that name must be silenced. It has to be." His eyes squinted shut at the end and a couple of crimson tears could be seen sliding down his hollow cheeks.

The man's smirk widened as he grabbed the child's wrist and pulled him forcibly to his feet. "Good. I've gone by many names but you can call me Master Brad, or just Master. If you're going to serve me though you'll need a name as well." For a moment he studied the boy's features. "Hmm… I think I'll call you Nathaniel, it means 'gift of god'." To the blonde's satisfaction his newfound subordinate's eyes opened wide at the statement and he appeared far from displeased.

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Once again seated in his throne-like command chair in the heart of his hidden base, Brad looked down at the technicians scurrying below with a bored expression. He was pleased that everything was going to plan but was becoming tired of the relative lack of action. His attempts to break Shego provided somewhat of a distraction but she was proving annoyingly resistant to his persuasive powers.

Soon Dr. Drakken's pet project would be complete and Shego's resistance would become a mute point but it still bothered the grey-haired man that he had for once failed to break his opponent. For the time being though he still had Nathaniel to fight for him, providing him with an almost unbeatable fighting force. He was however well aware that that particular asset was not going to last much longer.

The entire reason Brad had tested the Meteor Enzyme on true expendables like Rick and Theresa was to avoid needlessly losing his more useful servants to a faulty product. After the initial tests though DNAmy had been so certain that it was safe to use, with all of the test subjects having shown enhanced abilities with no obvious side effects. What had not been anticipated was the prospect of a power, not the enzyme itself, proving fatal.

Brad was… disappointed at the idea of losing Nathaniel. The idea did not raise any real emotion within in but he had not planned on disposing of his most useful tool in such a way. He had trained the boy since the day he found him wandering in the snow and he had proved an excellent student, becoming stronger and faster than even his master had anticipated. By his teenage years the young swordsman was already almost unbeatable in combat.

While his physical training was important, Brad had also trained his student's mind. A weapon could not be allowed to feel and it was a weapon that he was being shaped into. Though his emotions had largely been stripped away during the course of his early training, Nathaniel had continued to harbour hatred for the villagers who had tormented him deep within his heart.

Such lingering hatred could not be tolerated by Brad in his otherwise perfect weapon and he had quickly devised a strategy for stamping it out. He had taken Nathaniel back to the village in which he was born and given him a simple order. To kill everyone within, and leave the village in ruins. The order had been carried out quickly with relish and bladed steel.

Mere hours after entering the village Nathaniel had emerged as the sole survivor, leaving a trail of death and destruction behind him. Even in the cold wind the houses burned brightly, outmatched only by the inferno that had been the village's church. It didn't take long for the bloodied snow to claim the bodies of the fallen inhabitants as the buildings slowly crumbled to ash.

Though victorious, Nathaniel had appeared a physical mess. He sported several bullet wounds across his form and evidence of many more near misses. The injuries didn't seem to bother him though and for the first time he truly appeared the weapon Brad had wanted him to be. There was no emotion left in his eyes, it had all been washed away with the blood of his tormentors.

Rising from his seat, Brad strode purposely from the chamber and into a nearby elevator. As his decent began he wondered how long it would be until his opponents made their next move. He already had them where he wanted them but like any considerate opponent he would allow them to make a move before making another himself. Such were the unbreakable rules of chess.

Some of his subordinates, Gemini in particular, had questioned the nature of his plan. They thought he should strike continuously until there was no-one left to stop him. That however would be too easy. There was no point in taking over the world if he couldn't have fun doing it. He wanted his opponents to think they had a chance then be there to witness the looks on their faces when they realised the inevitability of their destruction.

Stepping out of the elevator, Brad walked quietly down the hallway it opened into. The walls here were lined with prison cells, each of them containing the huddled form of a once mighty villain or crime lord. No identifying features could be seen in the oppressive darkness of the cells and the prisoners remained totally silent. They had been kept alive in case a use could be found for them in the future but in all likelihood they would die in the same darkness.

As Brad finally reached the end of the long corridor he reached for the handle of the large steel door that bared his path. He paused however as he heard the sound of quiet voices on the other side, the words indistinguishable. Interesting… no-one other than Shego and Nathaniel should have been in the room beyond and the swordsman would have disposed quickly of any unauthorised intruders.

Finally swinging the door open, Brad was not surprised to find Nathaniel facing him with his usual calm expression. The mutant's senses were uncannily good, likely he had known his master was approaching before he even reached the door. It truly was a shame to lose an asset such as he. But perhaps a replacement could be found.

Stepping past Nathaniel, Brad smirked visibly at the withering glare he received from Shego. He was mildly impressed that the plasma-wielder was still conscious, especially since he was quite sure that she hadn't slept since originally regaining consciousness in her cell. A normal person would have succumbed long ago to the chemicals flowing through her system but her eyes still burned brightly with hatred as they met his own.

His white eyes glowing, Brad watched as a small syringe lifted from the table in the room's center and moved swiftly to hover just before his eyes. "I see your resistance continues Shego. No matter, you will serve me eventually. I guarantee it." He was pleased to see his own powers were improving, objects moved by his mind no longer surrounded by an obvious white glow.

Chuckling menacingly at the insignificant display of power, Shego ignored the green blood flowing from the corners of her mouth as she smiled. "Your telekinesis doesn't scare me Brad. It's just a shame it's not killing you like your boy here." Her emerald eyes moved to Nathaniel but he showed no physical reaction to her statement.

A little surprised by Shego's knowledge of Nathaniel's condition, Brad turned to meet eyes with his subordinate. In a way he hated those eyes, even though they mirrored his own in everything but colour. The enforcer had always been difficult to read but those black eyes made the task practically impossible. In the end it didn't matter. Though unexpected, conversation between the two was of no real consequence.

Mentally propelling the syringe forward, Brad smiled as the needle at the end plunged through the flesh of Shego's chest and into her heart. "You've experienced this before, so you know how painful it is going to be. Submit to me and I might reconsider." Receiving no answer beyond a glare he forced the end of the syringe to push inwards, injecting its light blue contents into the ex-villain's heart.

Shego refused to give her captor the satisfaction of hearing her scream, biting into her lip as she felt the beat of her heart begin to slow. Intense agony spread throughout her entire body as the life-giving organ began to slowly shut down, every nerve in her body screaming at her to do something about the situation. As the freezing energy from the syringe spread her heart began to turn a pale blue.

As all this was going on Brad watched emotionlessly, well aware of what the ultimate effect of the injection would be. The fluid had been made by DNAmy, a concentrated version of the freezing energy that had flowed through Ashleigh's veins. It acted as an extremely effective stunning agent, to the extent where it could stop a human heart from beating. Against a normal human an injection into the heart would be deadly but Shego had a natural defence against such an attack, even if it did take awhile to really take effect.

The substance's initially introduction had flooded Shego's heart with freezing energy of such magnitude that her burning green blood had at first been easily swept aside. That same plasma-filled blood flowed throughout the martial artist's entire body however and torrents of it flowed into her heart at all times. Against such a relentless assault, the injected chemical could not last and slowly but surely the frozen heart began to thaw.

Shuddering visibly as she felt her heartbeat start to speed up once again, Shego wondered how many more times she was going to have to endure such a sensation. That had been only the third time but already she was beginning to consider what she could do to make the torture stop. Part of her wanted to give in but the rest of her screamed that surrender was not an option, not when it meant betraying Kim's trust. Raising her head to look Brad in the eyes, she smiled maliciously. "Is that all you've got… you fucking bastard."

The brief flash of annoyance that crossed her captor's face caused Shego's smile to widen. For the most part Brad's composure was unshakable so she was pleased with even such a minor victory. She had not yet succeeded in figuring out exactly what it was the villain wanted from her but she didn't really care either. The plasma-wielder had spent most of her time wondering whether Kim would try to save her, divided within herself over her opinion on the issue. Half of her wanted the redhead to come, to save her from her torturous imprisonment. The other half wanted the one she cared most for to stay well away, to save herself from the possibility of suffering the same fate. The internal battle was almost more painful than the external world. She wanted to be saved but not if it meant any harm befalling her Princess.

Struggling slightly to retain his composure, Brad resisted the urge to give his defiant prisoner another injection. He was weakening her heart enough as it was and he didn't want to kill her, not while she could still prove useful to him. "I'm afraid that your continuing resistance is futile Shego. One way or another you will serve me, even if I must seek the aid of Dr. Drakken's inventions."

Appearing a little shocked at the mention of her former boss, Shego frowned at Brad's words. What could Drakken possibly be making that could be used against her? Sure he knew more about her powers than almost anyone else but he'd never be able to make anything of it. He could be smart when he wanted to be but his attention span was usually far to short for him to make anything truly significant. That and the fact that he had a bad habit of overlooking the little details that more often than not ultimately proved his downfall.

His characteristic smirk returning to his face once more, Brad cast his eyes towards the table in the room's center. "You've proven quite resistant to my methods Shego but I assure you that your ultimate fate is inevitable. You will be my faithful servant soon enough, and you will be stronger for it." Turning to leave, he briefly locked eyes with Nathaniel. "Speak with her if you must but do not grow too attached." He chuckled slightly as he left the room, considering how unnecessary the order was.

All of the pieces were slowly falling into place and in only a few short turns he would close the noose around his opponents' necks. Those who stood against him would no doubt make calculated moves of their own but it was too late for them to turn the tide. He would give them the illusion of a chance and then he would open their eyes to the true reality. His ultimate victory, his checkmate.

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Only just barely managing to sidestep a fearsome punch thrown at her by her redheaded opponent, Bonnie leapt backwards in an attempt to dodge any follow up attack. Though the action was successfully in avoiding a sweep kick aimed at her legs, the brunette landed on loose ground and ended up sitting in the dirt regardless. Such impacts had become an annoyingly common occurrence for her over the last couple of hours and she was beginning to suspect that the shorts and sweat shirt she wore were never going to be clean again.

Smiling slightly at the fallen cheerleader, Kim extended a hand to help her back to her feet. "You're improving a lot Bonnie. That was more bad luck than anything else." The teen hero's own outfit was similar to her companion's, though hers sported considerably less stains.

Bonnie frowned but accepted the offered appendage nonetheless, allowing herself to be pulled up to a standing position. "I haven't seen you slip yet so don't act like it's entirely luck. You're better than me, I knew that when we started, but this is the only way I can hope to get stronger." Punching her right fist into her left palm, she attempted to look somewhat intimidating but her laboured breathing ruined the image.

Kim's smile didn't slip at Bonnie's attitude and she hopped back a few steps and lowered herself into a combat stance. The two of them were situated in the backyard of the Possible residence, with GJ having concluded that Brad had no intentions of taking any more immediate action against those he had earlier threatened to kill and allowing them to return to their friends and families. For all intents and purposes they were essentially being left out of the loop. The two embattled teenagers though had no intention of being pushed aside, not if it meant abandoning Shego.

The two had been fighting almost nonstop for a little over two hours, with both of them showing signs that they were reaching their limits. Kim had been holding back slightly against Bonnie in their fights to avoid seriously injuring her but not so much that she was not also beginning to tire. It was clear that sooner or later they were going to have to stop due to sheer exhaustion but for awhile at least both believed they could keep going.

Technically both of them were ignoring sound medical advice by undertaking such strenuous physical activity, which Mrs. Possible had pointed out to them immediately when they announced their attention to train. Ann had been silenced however by the intense gaze with which Kim had met her eyes, an almost unspeakable determination conveyed in the simple look. Their were times when the older redhead almost believed her daughter was back to normal but those occasional looks banished such thoughts. Though for the most part hidden under the surface the teenage hero had been fundamentally changed by the loss of Shego and nothing short of the older female's safe return was likely to change her back.

Watching in slight awe from one of the house's rear windows as the two teenagers clashed again, Jim and Tim were wondering just how long the two were planning to keep it up. So far they were enjoying the show, though it would have been even more entertaining had their sister been the one losing every single bout or if it had involved the use of advanced technological gadgets. Part of them was tempted to whip up such gadgets merely for such a purpose.

Of course the boys too had noticed the odd way their sister was behaving. Sometimes she seemed almost normal but she was training a lot more than she ever had before and there were times when they would catch her staring mindlessly into space. Neither of them really knew what was going on but they were worried for Kim, even if they would never admit it. They were going to have to find a way to help.

As the twins continued to watch, Bonnie attempted to land a powerful kick to her opponent's side only to have the limb stopped halfway by the other girl's arm. Thrown off-balance by the move, the brunette hastily raised her left arm to defend against an incoming kick from Kim only to end up deflecting the attack slightly and leading the redhead's foot to slam straight into her still damaged abdomen. It was clear the blow caused its recipient a considerable amount of pain as her hands immediately moved to the injured body part and she found herself falling unwillingly to her knees.

Her combat stance falling immediately, Kim appeared quite shocked by where her attack had ultimately landed. Kneeling down in front of Bonnie she hesitantly moved the cheerleader's hands apart slightly and was relieved to see that the surgical wound had not reopened, the barely visible rows of stitches apparently holding firm. She would have apologised but she had a feeling her companion would not appreciate her concern.

Though her abdomen throbbed with pain Bonnie refused to allow herself the luxury of dwelling on it, knowing that as long as the stitching held she would be relatively fine. Turning her head to the side slightly to avoid Kim's concerned gaze, the brunette frowned as she noticed two small figures looking at her from within the house. "Are your brothers… checking me out?" She couldn't be sure but they seemed to be staring more than was really necessary.

Shuddering at the thought of her brothers developing hormones, Kim shot them a quick look before turning back to Bonnie. "I seriously hope not, they're annoying enough as it is." She couldn't help but smile slightly at the end, remembering how much she had missed their antics while at the Lowerton facility. "So, are you ready to keep going?"

Looking down at her abdomen for a moment, Bonnie eventually sighed and laid herself out flat on the ground. "I want to, I really do. If I don't get stronger than all I'm going to do is get in everyone's way, but if I break my body trying to get stronger it will all just be a waste." The cheerleader's turquoise eyes narrowed dangerously as she glared up at the afternoon sky. "Am I always just going to be dead weight?"

Sighing loudly herself, Kim gingerly laid down right beside her schoolyard-rival as her expression all at once turned remarkably serious. "You're not weak Bonnie, needing to rest doesn't make you that. You're strong, stronger than you think, and not just in the physical sense. I need you to help me save Shego not just because you're a good fighter but because you're also one of the few people I can trust right now."

Frowning noticeably, Bonnie turned her head to look into her classmate's eyes. "Why do you trust me? I never gave you a reason to. You and I were never friends. Didn't we hate each other? Why are you so willing to trust me now?" She quietly noted that she had unconsciously referred to their reciprocal hatred in the past tense.

Calmly meeting the brunette's gaze, Kim didn't allow herself to be phased by the other girl's negative expression. She couldn't afford to have any doubt in those she was close to, not when so much was at stake. "I trust you because I know you Bonnie. You're right, we were never friends but in our own way we were always close. You and I know each other as well as we know our closest friends and we are more similar than either of us would care to admit."

Chuckling slightly through her heavy breathing, Bonnie turned her attention back to the sky. "What is it with you and making friends with your rivals anyway? When people try to beat you up or turn you into a social outcast it doesn't usually mean they like you." A wry smile spread across the girl's face as she looked at Kim from the corner of her eye. "You're not going to jump me or anything are you, 'cause just so you know I don't swing that way?"

Kim's face turned scarlet at the comment and she quickly punched her companion in the shoulder. "That's not funny Bonnie! You're striking way too low." She knew that the other girl was more or less fully aware of her relationship with Shego, partially from observation and partially from using her own intellect to fill in the gaps. The brunette didn't seem bothered by the idea, showing that she was tolerant at the very least.

Struggling slightly to breath through her laughter, Bonnie silenced herself quickly when she noticed something moving in the limbs of the tree behind her. "Hey Possible?" She waited until she had Kim's attention and then pointed up into the tree. "If you still want to fight, maybe she'd be willing to give you a go."

Her own eyes moving to the tree in question, Kim frowned slightly when she noticed the girl standing delicately on one of its limbs, immediately flipping back onto her feet and turning to face the new arrival. "Hello Yori, did you come alone or is Ron here too?" She didn't really mean to sound like she was angry with the ninja, because she wasn't. It was just that she was still angry with Ron and the Asian girl never seemed to leave his side.

Yori didn't take offence at Kim's tone, knowing that it was not truly directed towards her. "I came alone Possible-san, I wanted to speak with you about your plan." In truth there wasn't really much of a plan, more of an idea than anything else. Saying that however would not be a good way to begin the conversation.

In essence Kim's entire plan was simply to wait for either GJ or Wade to discover Shego's location and then just run in and save her. Despite the plan's simple nature Bonnie seemed to have accepted it as sound enough but Ron had informed his best friend in no uncertain terms that he had no intention of risking his life to save Shego, leading the redhead to begin avoiding him altogether.

As Yori leapt to the ground in front of Kim she was aware that the teen hero most likely assumed that she intended to talk her out of her plan. That however was not the case. "I wish to help you fulfill your goals, whatever the cost may be. I do not know why Ron-kun hates Shego-san so much but I assure you his feelings are not my own." Though still not fully recovered her injured leg was once again able to support her weight, allowing her to stand tall as she made her announcement.

Caught off-guard by the unexpected offer of aid, Kim took a moment to form a response. "I… Thank you, Yori. I'm sorry, you lost your home and I haven't treated you with any compassion since Shego was taken. I shouldn't have doubted you." She was ashamed that she had treated the ninja almost in the same manner as Ron, even though the other girl had done nothing to deserve the treatment.

Shaking her head slightly, Yori waved off Kim's apology. "There is no need to apologise Possible-san, your predicament is not an easy one. One of those you care most for has been taken from you. I have already lost many of those I cared most for, I don't wish such a fate to befall you as well." Though the loss of those she had considered her family still pained her greatly she would do her best to make something of her survival, to uphold the honour of Yamanouchi.

Smiling sincerely, Kim rested her hand on Yori's shoulder. "Thank you. I promise, as soon as we rescue Shego, we'll help you bring those responsible for Yamanouchi's destruction to justice." She wasn't entirely sure that the ninja's idea of justice was the same as her own but that was a matter that could be discussed later.

Gingerly pulling herself back to her feet, Bonnie did her best not to smile as she faced her companions. She could have said something considerate or inspiring but that just wouldn't have been her style. "Lets not turn this into a group hug okay, I don't trust Kim not to take the opportunity to feel me up." She couldn't stop the slight smile that spread across her face as Yori laughed quietly and the redhead in question shot her a glare.

Having to employ all her self-restraint to stop herself from responding in kind to Bonnie's mostly good-natured teasing, Kim allowed a small smile to cross her face as well. With the brunette and Yori both on her side she was feeling somewhat more confident in their ability to rescue Shego. She would have preferred to have Ron's aid as well, as he had shown himself to be an effective combatant when needed. Hopefully the blonde would eventually come around of his own accord but if he didn't she was not above forcing him to help, especially considering his recent actions.

In the end whether Ron chose to help them or not would not effect her decision in the slightest. There was no way she was just going to abandon Shego, even if she had to risk her own life to save her. The determination she felt now was unlike anything she had experienced before, even when she was busy saving the world from megalomaniac villains. It didn't matter how badly the odds were stacked against her and her allies, Kim would not allow them to fail. Because if the hollow feeling in her heart wasn't healed soon, she was quite sure it would kill her.

End Notes: I'm aware that lately my updates have come rather slowly but I'll make an attempt to put the next chapter up quicker (I said that last time didn't I?). While you're waiting you can leave a review, though obviously you don't have to.