Hi everyone. Sorry I posted this late, I had real life work that needed to be done. But here's some news that will hold importance.

First, this story will come to a close after two more chapters are posted. It will take awhile, but it will be done. So far, I'm proud of the story, and I want to conclude it with an ending it deserves.

Second: After this story, I was thinking of writing another story, this time, it's centered around Kim and Ron… I'm writing ideas down, so I'm hoping that I post it once Break Away is done.

Third: LEMON WARNING.

Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter and for the football fans, hope you enjoy the Super Bowl and I'll be with y'all later.

Chapter 36: Where Does True Family Lie

Days of peace, days of reflection. There couldn't be anything better than it. Even so, tension and conflicted loomed. Despite the happy faces, the surroundings of good people, another day lived, everything was finally piling up.

Ron woke up early on the Saturday morning. His naked body wrapped in the warm, inviting blankets. But it was more so warmed by the second body that gently meshed next to him. His eyes awoke to see her still sleeping, the feeling of her soft, silky skin would drive him mad with lust. How he would caress her filled, curvy hips and trace her flat stomach. A simple kiss to her cheek he would lay, with him suckling on her neck. But it never happened. Even so, after what happened yesterday, they needed rest. The blonde boy needed rest, especially after what he's gone through.

He wanted to lie back down, use whatever that remained of his restful hours to drift back to sleep once again. His eyes remained open, alarmed, no longer being susceptible to the silent lulls fate tried to use. Nightmares haven't plagued his mind, rather the harshness of reality rudely dare to claw at him.

He jerks the blankets off of him and sneakily treads to the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror. Instead of seeing his usual, regular face when he's normally awakened, he sees… something else.

Eyes once filled with hope, innocence burned with a passion that got him through the worst days of being an agent, a friend, and at a point… a son. His sight being reduced to light blurs that didn't go without notice. His lips cracked, his mouth dry. Even in the morning, he fails to speak freely… even if he did, the voice comes out hoarse, gruff… an exhaustion flooding him. His body, usually having him jump for joy, move around like each day was his last, finally creaking and wobbling. The blonde boy could feel himself shivering, a cold breeze taking his body like a plastic bag would move in abrasive winds.

He took a quick drink of water to rid himself of one of his concerns. If that was the case, he wanted to get rid of the rest. Just put on the same smile and wave routine, suppressing the demons he needed to hide. He heads inside the shower, turning on the water that quickly coated the room with steam. He steps inside with a long, relieved sigh. Inhaling the steam that went to massage the inside of his throat. The pulsing jets of water landing on his shoulders relaxed him letting his eyes close and drowned out whatever noise was out there. His eyes closed with one hand resting its palm on the shower walls, and other hand covering his eyes. Letting the after effects of his life set in.

The blonde boy's feud with Kim ended, closure happened but it did come with a price seemingly worth paying. Even they were on good terms, it still felt shaky. For him, there were some things he couldn't forgive. Kim hurt Bonnie to spite Ron, she invaded his privacy… well their's to be precise. Of course, he retaliated by attacking her. It was suppose to make him feel better, but it didn't. Even if Ron and Kim still maintain their friendship, the fact that what happened between the both of them won't have things go back to its original state.

Then, there were his parents. The biological ones, the people who gave birth to him. After many years of their little jobs that take them from one place to the next, they want to have them in their lives again. He made it clear to them that he rejected them. Ron couldn't do it anymore, the voicemails reverberate in his head. Saying they'll be home soon, they'll spend time with him, celebrate his birthday, help him with homework assignments, teach him how to cook. He desperately waited for that, even in his mind he longed for the affection… but it never came from them, but it did come from someone else. With all of that said, he didn't see his old self right now, days were simpler back then… if only it just went back.

He would lament on the thoughts longer than usual, if there wasn't the sound of a shower curtain moving, with a patter of water giving a light splash beneath someone's feet. Then a petite hand lightly rubbed his shoulder. How can a warm, gentle touch make him frozen stiff. Such an unnecessary gesture, yet inviting.

"Y'know it's Saturday." The voice started. "Usually you're the one who sleeps in." Her hands traversed from his shoulders to his back. "Wonder what's got you up early this morning?" She muttered.

A slow gentle breath escaped Ron's lips. His eyes blinked, softened by her voice. "I dunno Bonnie, I guess I just have a lot on my mind." As his sentence got closer to end, he muttered its last words and sighed.

She patted him on the shoulders. "I've got a lot on my mind too… and somehow, all of it revolves around you. Well, you and me really." She then went for his waist.

"Y'know I should be doing that to you." He joked… attempting to lighten the mood, make it seem that his inner conflicts failed to matter, or take ahold of him. "I think you've done a lot of that last night. Honestly, I'm pretty sure Daddy'll kill you if he knew all of this." She responded with a giggle.

"I'm talking about your little super spy stuff." She sighed. "Look, I don't wanna come down hard on this… but it isn't good for you. You wake up in the morning all ready to take on the world, then you come back and it's like… everything just crashed on your shoulders." He turned around, for her to place her fingers upon his chin. He wrapped his hands around her hips. They rock from side to side in a discreet manner.

"I know you're gonna tell me everything's fine, that I don't have to worry, but I do. I touch the cuts, see the bruises… it's… it's getting to you. I don't want history to repeat itself again. I mean, you and Kim are ok, but…"

"Kim and I aren't a team anymore… it's over." Ron answered, yet Bonnie still looked in disbelief. "Is there anything I can say to make this right? I mean I…" Ron looked to his shoulders and averted her eyes.

"Look me in the eye and say that the whole thing… the media saying you're back with Kim, the whole cyanide thing… everything that involves that Global Justice thing or whatever is done." She realized what her words meant, her eyes widened after spewing it out. She quickly tried to recover. "I mean not 'done' done… I mean…"

"I swear." He looks at Bonnie with reassuring eyes. He pulls her closer, their forehead touching. The calm feeling ensnaring them. "I swear that everything is done. Just you and me… nobody else. I mean, we'll talk to friends occasionally, but I get the point." He leaned closer to feel the warmth of her lips once more. Bonnie's hands touched his chest as she pushed him towards the shower walls. "If only you are good with your lips when it came to mini golf." She mocked him.

Ron smiled at her little comment. "You just won't let that go, huh?" She used her index finger to poke at his abdomen and tilted the fingertip from left to right. Indicating an imaginary knife that was stabbed into him and twisted for extra pain. "You were dead last, even the seniors were wondering how bad you were at playing it."

The blonde bursted into a quiet chuckle. "You just won't let that go?!" He smiles.

"Nope." She whispers as her lips inch closer to his neck. "Even you got something in your life to laugh about." She suckled his neck, as his hands raised from her hips to her achingly swollen breasts. Bonnie moaned as he gently stroked and kneaded her rosy mounds as she teasing pressed them against his virile chest. The tip of her tongue slowly moved up to his lips, as she made him shudder with the ticklish, yet sensual feeling of it running up his neck and darting itself into his mouth, feeling the hot and moist breath as his tongue danced and curled with hers.

The skin, such slippery wetness, the feeling of warm satin took its hold in the minds. One hand had to force itself away from the body in order to turn the faucets that let the water pulse down off. The strength the blonde boy had caused him to lift his lover's lithe body, causing her to wrap her legs around his narrow hips.

He quickly looked at her and made his way with her clinging onto him nearly smothered him as their bodies glistened with droplets of water. The door bursts open.

Bonnie felt herself being gently placed onto the bed with a body tenderly pressing itself against her, the warmth of the muscles of his arms, chest, and stomach enveloping her. Ron may be the one on top, but he wouldn't be for long. She would wriggle her hips for a bit to entice him, make him lose control. They weren't going to lie still, that was already established.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Bonnie twisted her body. Placing herself where she wanted to be. "Ah ah ah… you remember the first time?" Grinding her hips against Ron, he responds with a small smile, while his hands reached to gently knead the underside of her breasts. "You were on top for awhile, yeah?! You wanna see me move my body like this, don't you?!" Her voice, soothing, seductive and hypnotizing.

"You know I want to. Please." Ron silently begged her. Bonnie would fulfill his wish. She started to rock against him, her tight vaginal muscles, massaging it as her hips moved in a circular motion. Making her body move in an intimate dance. Her days as a cheerleader did her body such justice. As she moved forward, she arched her back for a second… then she leaned forward to kiss him again. The saliva that coated each other mouths somehow had such a stronger, tastier flavor to it. "Hah! Ooooh, yeah!" Bonnie moaned.

Her movement became erratic with hungry, slamming thrusts. Ron started to increase his rhythm thrusting upwards. The slapping flesh being heard, as shuddering breaths were heard in the room. Instinctively, going mad with lust, Bonnie arched wildly in response, the damp petals of her womanhood, feeling his manhood throb and pulse within her. The swelling of his loins indicated that he was getting close. Unable to hold it in anymore, he sits up to embrace her as he ventured towards pleasure, for he shook violently as his hot, creamy seed spilling in her. As for Bonnie, with the waves of the orgasm taking her, she felt herself convulse in his hug… feeling the spasms she went through with her face plastered with a wide, welcoming and pleasure-filled smile. Even as they finished their love-making, Bonnie refused to get off of Ron.

"You know, I had another surprise for you." She whispered. Her left hand, moving to trace her fingers on her shoulder. "After what you've done for me, for a lot of people… I thought it'd be nice to do something for you."

"For me?" He asked. He kissed her forehead. "What's the surprise?"

"Well, it isn't just for you… it's for us. You see, after all the craziness here in Middleton, I decided that we should get away from it all… just for a bit."

Ron held a suspicious smile. "You decided?" Bonnie shook her head and lightly smacked his shoulder. "Ah yeah, who else?" She responds.

With that smug look on him, he continues. "Ok, let's say for the sake of the conversation, you decided. What could it be?" He asks. A light hum escaped from her lips.

"A trip." She answers. "Somewhere that would be interesting to go, but not too cliché. I mean, I want it to hold originality." She says.

"Ok. I'll bite." He sits up. "So where would this 'getaway' be?" He asks her, as he tries to think of his own.

"Well, it would be in Italy." Bonnie saw the look on his face that said 'already cliché'. She smacks her lips and pushes him down.

"What, I didn't say anything." He says with his hands up in surrender. Her look was something that said 'yeah right' with a sarcastic tone. "Ok, how about Venice, Italy?" She tells him.

Pondering it for a bit, he comes to a conclusion that it would be ideal and somewhat original. "Ok, you got a point there. But who's paying for the flight and everything? Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind at all… but I'm just hearing this." He says.

"Well…" she tiptoed her fingers on his chest. "Daddy agreed to what I wanted to do and he pitched in." Ron, wanting to know more says something else. "How much did he pitch in, like what percentage?"

"Well…" she wandered off a bit. "Eight… y percent." She says. He only responds with a mocking smile. Bonnie begins to laugh herself. "You are about this close to getting it." She jokes. The boy held her wrists.

"Easy, look… I'm down with this. Look I will go on this vacation with you, It's a great idea." His smile softened. It was then he mumbled. "At least you had parents that looked out for you." He says slightly looking away.

"What are you gonna do about your parents? They want you back in their lives and… I dunno what I can say about this, it's confusing."

"I have to talk to them. Honestly, I got to do something about it. He escapes from the bed and clothed himself. He then received a text.

'Your parents at my house asking 4 u again… come over plz'

A slight groan came from him. His fingers ran through the locks of his hair. They were harassing the Possible's again?! Maybe they're determined to try and patch things up with him, or they're desperate.

Well he knew one thing, he knew where he was going next. 'So much for a peaceful weekend.' As he drove to the Possible's household. A clenching feeling came from his stomach.

AT POSSIBLE'S HOUSEHOLD

"Ron hasn't shown up here for almost a month." Kim said. She wanted to diffuse the situation between her parents and Ron's. Coming back after awhile, they patiently waited, but it seems they're at wits end. "I'm worried for him as much as you, but he's his own man now."

Ron's mother spoke. Her hands folded with an angry huff coming from her lips. "His own man?! This is coming from you who made him suffer all kinds of abuse. You look on high, while he was down there crawling out of the pit that you pushed him in. I dunno about you, but you shouldn't be talking about his well-being after what you did to him." She scolded her.

"Honey, this isn't the right way to handle this." Ron's father came to take Kim's side in calming down. It was with a wing and prayer that it worked, but it didn't.

"You're right." Ann said. The tone of her voice suggested hostility. "It should really be handled by addressing how you failed to be in your own son's life and considering that now should be the time to come back into his life, when he obviously doesn't need you anymore!" She stabbed that knowledge into her as if it was a salt coated knife penetrating the gut. "After all of that time when he was a child, when he only had my daughter as an only friend… all of the bullying he suffered through in his lifetime, unaware of what to do with his life. He didn't have anyone to guide him except his parents and what have you showed him?! Nothing that he would be happy about and certainly nothing he'd would use in the future!"

"Anne, do you really think you should lecture me about being a mother, considering how your own daughter turned out?! She hurt my son! Was this something you taught her to do?! Honestly, a child's behavioral problem always starts somewhere, and that's at home!" Kim felt this feeling of anger course through her after what Ron's mother said to her own mom. She wanted to strike her cheek, do more even. Knowing Ron, he wouldn't want her to do that… probably call it a 'relapse' should she condone the action.

"Ron made me see my mistakes, I've owned up to that! It was something that my mother taught the both of us!" She yelled.

"Was it before or after you were about to be brought to a courtroom?!" She yelled at Kim. "A motherly intuition doesn't fail us! So why don't I ask a question that only Ron could answer… what do you know about being a mother to another person's son?!" It was then a third voice stopped her in her tracks.

"More than you. Considering that she's done so much for me." Ron leaned on the door. He sighed deeply, appearing calm. Yet a plethora of emotions bombarded him. "Whenever I cried, she made me feel better, whenever I wanted to talk to her about something, she listened, if I was scared, she helped me face what was there. I learned so much from them. Being a father and a mother isn't rocket science or brain surgery, it's hard working… but the child needs one thing… unconditional love." Ron was calm about this. He walked towards his biological parents with a stare neither cold nor hateful.

"I turned out great because of them. They could've just left me alone and let me be 'raised' by you, they had that option… and they chose to look after me. I… I can't…" He shook his head. "Regarding you as my parents, when Kim's parents took that role isn't right. The only thing I can love you for is giving me a name, being the first to hold me when I was a baby and making sure I had a roof over my head. Even introducing me to Bonnie is something I credit you doing. I can't hate you, but I can't regard you as my parents either. Ron Stoppable was the name you gave me, I cherish that. But the things I've been taught, how to cook, write, stuff like that, they weren't taught by you… But I have to say that… you weren't my parents, they were."

Hearing this confession had the older redhead's eyes water… she was more of a mother towards him, she knew that. But the minute he confessed that, when the words escaped his lips… she shook not out of fear, but out of pride.

Ron's mother cried. Shaking her head. "Ronald, we just want you to come home… that all we-" She was cut off.

"I already have a home. I've grown up now… I can't be that little kid that waits for you and Dad to come home. I won't be your son anymore, I hold the name, the memories, the blood… but that's it. Family isn't determined by blood, it's determined by love." He turned to walk out of the house.

"Please, leave them alone… they're good people, they've done so much for not just me, but so much for the people here too."

Ron's father held his wife and led her out of the household, sobbing as she finally faced facts that her son is lost. He wasn't coming back, but maybe his growing up, his independence was a sign… a sign that she needed to figure out for herself.

Meanwhile:

It drew near. Despite the cold, unforgiving wind that was felt throughout the journey. Such a strong breeze dared to limit the vision. Even through gritted teeth, the rush of air made its way, giving the tongue a dry coating. Lack of supplies, no food, water or even a camping spot. All that remained was the journey.

The shuffling movement of rocks and grass over time was the only thing that filled the ears of the travelers. The pain of walking for miles, blistered feet trudging from the jagged mountains, to the gentle grassy plains. The temple inched closer. Miles of walking was going to be the end of them.

Fukushima looked at his mentor, his lord. He may not be a deity or omnipotent, but it was his guidance and training that allowed him to survive for years. Even in his own school, he was considered the wolf in sheep's clothing… well it is true at least.

Being a catalyst to gaining Monkey Fist's power was something he accepted… give him the MMP and deciding whether or not to remain by his side or get on with his life. He steals a glance at his mentor, seeing his determined glare. It meant so much more than just a look, he could feel this menacing tension swirling around his synapses.

Monkey Fist had desired the power of the MMP, that much was known to him. Yet his thoughts dared to disagree by using such a term: 'desire'. He coveted the power, his insatiable lust for power led him down this road. Even he genetically altered his physiology PURPOSELY, to make that decisive step forward.

A power of the MMP's caliber chooses one who is worthy… and it chose that damned outsider Ron, of all people. Even so, that power was honest, used to build, to protect, to maintain order at some point. Completely contrasting to the path of Yono.

All it led to was his immeasurable suffering. The horrors took grasp of him. He placed himself in a dead, foggy night. The full moon being the only light exposed to him. Hands with such long fingernails, waiting to reach and flay him alive. Feeling its slow, sharp touch move nimbly against the skin, with blood slowly flooding out. A power like this isn't meant for the world to see, much less experience.

His loyalty may still be towards Fiske, for he desired a power that was reasonable, civilized, in his opinion. Now, he follows a way towards savagery and destruction.

"We're here." Monkey Fist marveled at the sight of the temple. It was astounding, beautiful… a bridge to his ascension. Even as he heads into the temple, the attention of his apprentice failed to show. Not even as Fukushima took one of the old blades stabbed on the temple grounds for himself.

Fukushima made up his mind, getting revenge on Ron and reforming the school would have to wait. Should Fiske choose this path and lose his way… no… he couldn't think that right now. He was going to approach this civilly, that's the least he can do for his mentor.

At the center of the temple, a blade rested there, equivalent to the Lotus Blade, but… much more horrific. Emitting a yellow aura around the room and the blade itself. Fukushima had to speak now, otherwise it'll be for naught.

"Lord Monkey Fist. You're planning to use the blade, to make a pact with Yono… aren't you?" Utter silence drew within the room. His mentor inching closer toward the blade.

"A power such as Yono's should not remain dormant. Empires can fall, nations will be in terror. With it, the world can be yours at a whim." His fingers caressed the finger of the blade.

"I've seen that power before… it won't bring the order you want. It's an embodiment of fear, of chaos. Your goals…" Reasoning with Fiske was the first step, even so his, hand gripped his new sword as if his life rested upon it.

"My goals are to make the world mine, yes. Any means such as this is acceptable. The end will justify the means, my apprentice."

Fukushima's teachings, whether the mentor being Monkey Fist or Master Sensei. This is a contradiction, power such as this is dormant for a reason. "I won't let you take this power!" He drew his sword.

Monkey Fist still looked at blade, a light chuckle escaping his breath upon this sudden change. "And who does this power belong to… you?" There wasn't a response, only the gentle hum of the aura filling the room.

"You held such promise Fukushima, a child who saw under the veil. Even so, you've made a foolish decision… the power is mine, and now that I have it in my grasp…" His hand grabbed the hilt and hoisted it from the ground.

"I will not have a brat like you stand in my way." His voice turned menacing, like a growling voice beneath. His eyes, had lost its pupils and became all yellow. A golden aura surrounded him, with the blade in tow. His muscle veins seen with the naked eye, his teeth turning into horrid canine like fangs. A roar echoed in the temple grounds, it was too late. Monkey Fist has made a pact with the path of Yono, he forfeited the remanent of his humanity for power.

Fukushima charged wanting to strike him while his fallen mentor was in a drunken stupor. Before he could react, he vanished from the position he was in… but reappeared in front of him.

'What the…' his mind shocked at seeing such speed. He couldn't even pay attention to the push kick to the stomach that his chest felt and was sent crashing to the wall. Fukushima stabbed his sword to the ground, he desired to clutch at his chest where the pain resided. He coughed up blood. He looked up to see his mentor about to slash him horizontally. With his sword he blocked it… or so he thought. He was pushed to the exit, his body crashing to the wall again, before he could hit the ground a hand reached for his chin and dragged his face into the wall and placing them outside. Fukushima couldn't comprehend what was happening, all he did understand was the repetitive feeling of him falling down the steps, then something bolted underneath him, causing him to go up into the air, but he was falling down nevertheless. He could feel something behind him and kicked him right in the back, something had to break, because a snap was heard and searing pain emanated everywhere. The eyes of the boy were beginning to dim.

But this new Monkey Fist had other plans for him. He does a shoulder tackle which send him mid air, appears behind him, spins around and does a hook kick, he then appears in front of him, grabs his mouth and forcefully pushes him on the ground head first. He could only see how pathetic his treacherous apprentice looked when he took such punishment. He throws him high in the air. He then quickly appeared towards him and does a diagonal slash, Fukushima with little strength he had attempts to block again. But the strike broke his defense yet again, his lower body, his knees in particular, crashed onto a tree. Before his entire body could crash on the ground. Monkey Fist appeared and grabbed him by the throat.

With one hand, he weakly tried to loosen his grip, with the loss of movement in his legs and his body failing him. It was then a feeling of cold metal pierced his skin and dug straight into his stomach, he couldn't even inhale. Eyes dared to be coated with tears, as blood came from his mouth like a sink smoothly, yet slowly pour down a thin line of water. His hand twitched weakly.

Quickly, the blade was yanked out from his body as he felt the cold, wet, grassy plains. With his last sight being stormy clouds, raining down on his face. Death has approached him and it took him away from this earth and from a wretched punishment.

The man that was once a scholar, the villain that wanted the world for himself. He wasn't seen with such unholy, devilish eyes. The man beneath died, with a monstrosity taking his place. Destruction was all that was paved in his goals, it was going to start with a Monkey Master equivalent.

He looked towards the horizon, his silent words were spoken underneath the stormy night. "Death to the False Prophet."