Moving On
Turning Point
By Pat Squared
Timofey Ivanovich Posibeev was dying.
The fevers and the pain only grew as the infection was taking over his body. He had long since resigned himself to death when he first stepped on the road to damnation.
However contrary to his visions, he was not dying alone in the wilderness or an interrogation room. He laid in a small medical clinic in Siberia. For someone who grew up with access to the world's best doctors via his mother's connection, the only two people treating him were an old man whose medical training was torturing dissidents in the old days and Marie.
She could have left him and return to her old Champaign and caviar lifestyle. Marie via her father had more than enough wealth to interact with just about anyone short of the Seniors. And yet, she performed the death watch upon a man who kidnapped her, beat her, and striped her of the life she knew.
"Go back home, Marie. Go back to your father."
Marie just shook her head.
"My father is dead from a heart attack, Timofey Ivanovich. If I go back, the mafia would now only kidnap me, marry some vor, and then kill me. It's better that Marie Ivanonva Romanov disappears. The money then goes to the state. No matter how corrupt, they can't spend it all on caviar and furs. Maybe some good would come out of it. I now have to make a new life. For Americans it the West where they go to make a new life. For Russian's we find our fortunes in the East. If you die, I am still remaining in the East. If you leave, I go wherever you go."
If it did not hurt too much to breath, Tim would be laughing. His last days were beginning to sound like one of the tragic love stories his sister and mother swapped.
Hunted by villains seeking her family's fortune, the princess finds herself in love with her captor to only have him tragically die before they can consummate their love for one another and raise a family in the wilderness.
If he only had his laptop computer. Maybe he could write novels if he lived. His life was so twisted that he had hundreds of stories.
Being the most wanted man in Russia while sitting in the number one spot on the New York Times Best Seller list. Just how ironic are you going to get.
Tim knew that these thoughts only offered him false hope. He did not need an untrained doctor to tell him that the infection was spreading. He could feel it.
Now he had truly had another life dependant on him remaining alive. Marie could not return to her old world. She was now...forever a part of his world. Fate ensured that just as he was ready to leave his hellish existence, he would be force to live.
He heard footsteps. It was the old doctor. He was a kindly man who in his youth was too good at extracting confession via torture. Being too good at his job meant his exile during the 1960's.
"I won't lie to you Timofey Ivanovich. You are dying. The infection is spreading. I have seen strong men who died from less. There is only one thing left. It will be painful. I will have to cut into you and let puss, let pus...infection run out. I don't have anything to make you sleep. All I can do is dope you with morphine. I will have to cut you repeatedly. If you live, you will leave this place addicted to morphine. It will still hurt and there will be much scaring."
Tim nodded his head.
"Da, better morphine than grave."
He lied. The grave would be a relief. However, he now had a duty. He messed up Marie's life. Now he had to make it up to her.
Marie and the doctor turned him over. He felt the needle and a cool rush running in his veins.
The doctor put a stick in his mouth.
"Bite down on this. Trust me it helps."
Seconds later, the clinic was filled with the sounds of his muffled screams.
Violetta could not sleep.
She both could not wait for and dreaded this day.
She had prepared for this day.
She had sent three weeks tailoring her outfit.
It was six in the morning.
As was her habit she would undress, grab her inhaler, and go to the bathroom to take her medication.
She hated it. She would get a euphoric rush. She felt like she was on top of the world.
Twenty minutes later, she would find herself sitting in her own shit and piss. The drug weakened the body so much that the time she attempted to sit on the toilet so that the waste would end up where it belonged...she found herself knocked out on the floor. There was no choice but to lie in the tube and endure the humiliation of being unable to control her body.
She endured this twice a day for all her life and still she could not get over the humiliation. It was something she would never get use to.
She locked the door and got into the tub. She closed her eyes, put the inhaler to her mouth and took a deep breath as she pushed down on the activator.
As was expected, she found herself staring at the ceiling. Up there was a spider spinning its web.
She found herself laughing at nothing and was laughing even harder because she was laughing at nothing.
When the high crashed, the child was crying.
Only Tita 'Berta and Tita Lori knew about what the drug did to her. She hated it. She did not choose this addiction. She did not choose to even use the drug. The addiction was her gift from her biological father, she knew. She knew that if she stopped using the drug she would eventually go into violent seizures and her blood pressure would spike up to near fatal levels.
As usual, she found herself lying in her own feces and urine.
She turned on the shower tap and cleaned herself off.
It was one more reason for Ronnie not to like her.
Ronnie cursed airplanes.
First the pilot seemingly found every patch of turbulent air in the sky.
Second, the bathroom broke down just after getting airborne.
Third, the food elevator in the galley was jammed meaning there was no food or drink for the airsick and dehydrated passengers.
Fourth, he was surrounded by people who were very airsick. Correction, he was stuck with people who were made very airsick. If he was not use to flying the helicopter, he too would have puked in the aisle.
He vowed that if he had to go back, he would walk rather than fly on Central Mountain Air. If the plane did not lose an engine and crash on landing.
Thankfully, it was a short flight. Ninety minutes, forty five of which was spent in the pattern waiting for a chance to land...crash at the Tri-County International Airport.
Thankfully everything fit in his carry-on bag. If he depended on them to move his suitcase, they would ship his luggage via Timbuktu, the Suez Canal, to Afghanistan, Bombay, the jungles of Laos and Cambodia, some Chinese junk to Shanghai put in some warehouse to rot for a while before being sent back to America just in time for his retirement party.
He had wondered just was he was going to do when he grew up. As a child, he wanted to be cop and later a cowboy. His father was a US deputy marshal killed on the job. If he went into law enforcement, his mom would have a heart attack. The summer at the ranch removed any desire to punch cattle. Flying was dangerous. Riding was dangerous. Shoveling shit and artificially inseminating cows...that cured him of any urge to be a cowboy.
With this flight, being an air marshal was scratched of the list of possible careers for Ronald Possible.
Hopefully the plane would hold together long enough to ensure that he had a future. All that he knew was that he would never fly on Central Mountain Airways ever again. He would rather swim in the lake at Camp Wanawept, play with primates, or run around school naked singing I am Little Tea Pot like that incident in Pre-K than ever fly this airline again.
Hopefully things would be better on the ground. If not, he wanted to hurt some people very badly.
The old man sat down in the stool and looked straight into Tim's eyes.
"Temofey Ivanovich. You are a man who lost faith in God and man.
"From the look in your eye, you are in my old line of work. You have learned that those such as we...there is no promise of salvation. I too once believed that I was doing right. I watched as the fascist raped their way into Russia. I was thirteen when they invaded my village. They raped the women, looted the village, and burned down the village with us trapped inside."
The old man removed his shirt. Tim could see the burn scars.
"I was the only one that lived. Somehow, I found my way into the woods. I found a small band of survivors and soldiers traped by the German advance lead by a commissar. I believed the propaganda. I remember when I found my first gun. German KAR98k. I became sharpshooter and killed many fascists with it. Eventually our band was inducted into the Red Army when the fascists were pushed back. I took the long walk to Berlin.
"After war, I was selected for special training and later inducted into the NKVD. Because of my past, I had no qualms about using physical means to extract information. I served in the psikhushkas and later other facilities. Unlike the oppertunist, I was a true believer. I believed every traitor I uncovered would save a village from the face of my village.
"In December 1953, Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria, the head of the Soviet Security, was arrested and killed on orders by Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev. The new powers feared that if Beria took power, he would conduct a purge like in the days of Stalin. State Security was demoted from a Ministry to a Committee. Many Chekists such as I were either killed or exiled.
"It's ironic that I, a torturer, became the physician. It is only because of my desire to keep my charges alive long enough to properly confess that I ever develop the skills to heal. I ended up marrying the daughter of a kulak, a dissident, an enemy of the state that in my old life I would not hesitate to torture."
The old man put on his shirt.
"I tell you this because men such as we believed two lies. First, we believed that by doing wrong we were doing right. We later believed that there is no turning back once you shook hands with the Devil himself.
"Your girl, she loves you. God sent down an angel to save your soul. She has given up everything for you...it is time that you give up your burden of hate, for her sake. Her heart...her heart is weak as her love for you is strong. She won't last long in this harsh land without you by her side. It's not those who are strong in flesh that thrives in this land, but those with strong spirits. Her spirit is intertwined with you. Live Timofey Ivanovich, if not for your sake, for hers. Turn back from darkness. Here you are not Cossack anymore."
Tim stared off in the distance.
Drakken killed Ron.
Drakken drove your sister to try to kill herself.
Drakken is living like a king while Ronnie grows up without a dad.
He remembered breaking the spirits of dozens of villains. Monkey Fist, DNA Amy, Gill, Motor Ed, Senior Senor Junior, Frugal Lucre, Duff Killigan, Gill, Dr. Fen, Chester Yapsby, Falsetto Jones, and Vincent Wheeler all learned that pissing off someone who once enthusiastically watched videos of his mother's surgical procedures was not a good thing to do.
He replayed their scream in his head as he relived the experience of cutting into their flesh. A part of him learned to savor the experience like one might savor a fine vintage wine.
There is a love between those who give and receive pain...A moment when the spirit was broken...A bond that only one who has experienced it would comprehend. In that moment the receiver total surrenders their entire being like a lover surrendering her body. It was a special moment that the darkness inside him loved. One day he expected to surrender that moment to another and thereby complete the circle.
Now they were asking him to turn his back on everything he knew.
There was no choice. Fate had arranged for him to protect someone who needed protection. Marie needed him. He would never abandon those who depended on him. He would be no longer Timothy James Possible, youngest child of Dr. James Timothy Possible and Dr. Anne O'Conner Possible. He was now Timofey Ivanovich Posibeev, a Cossack hunter and protector to Marie Ivanovna Romanov.
He made the decision to turn his back on his old life.
He closed his eyes and surrendered to the morphine.
The Brits, French, Germans, Russians, Indians, Chinese, Japanese, South Koreans, and Israelis were all tying to hack into the secure servers made by Lizst's Industries.
It was not unexpected. It was a brilliant marketing move thought up by Bonnie Rockwaller. They all have bought some of her secure servers. However, exponentially increasing demand for secure communication networks required them all to upgrade their current communication infrastructure. However, Liszt's Industries was an US-based company. Remembering what the CIA did with the Xerox machines in embassies in the 1960's and '70's, no not wanted to give the American the keys to their virtual kingdom.
However, no one each could produce secure servers that had the bandwidth and the Lode's Counter-Hacker AI that the late Wade Lode developed under contract. He was resistant at first, but Bonnie was an expert when it came to dealing with men.
Bonnie remembered the young man fondly. With his acute agoraphobia, it was a shame that he did not get out of the house. He looked like a bulked up young Lenny Kravitz, and his hands. He was as good in pleasuring her as he was in writing code. He was gentle and there was an actual emotional collection between the pair. She kept the relationship ongoing even after Wade delivered the goods. Liszt already had another mistress from the secretarial pool.
Her lost.
Bonnie was Wade's one and only lover and he actually had a fond place in her heart. When he was murdered, she quietly arranged things so that his mother did not have to deal with the legalities of the situation. Now a part of her day was spent digging in bank servers looking for the cash trail of his killer.
While the Counter-Hacker AI was the granddaddy of the exact AI that Wade Lode used in his personal system, it was a couple generations ahead of what the competition had. She authorized the ten million payment. Now if it did not produce profits, it would be her head that was literally on the chopping block.
She was in the control room as her technicians monitored the intrusion attempts. With her were all the buyer representatives. If the server AI beat off all the attempts, she expected to earn hundreds of millions. She also was the only one alive who knew the one back door into the system. Although the backdoor looked more like a maze drawn by some crazed monk who spent the last seven decades in isolation than any secret door.
It was hour thirty eight of forty eight scheduled hours, but the Chinese, French, and Russians actually started their attempts twenty four hours prior to the official start time and would keep on hacking away until she had her technicians take the servers off-line. Bonnie would allow them their small deceptions.
Twenty seven hours later, all the representatives signed the contracts. Bonnie Rockwaller was on top of the world.
Twenty minutes later, Bonnie checked her voicemail. It was Tara, her best friend since school and her doctor. What was once of the best days in her life, became one of the worse.
Bonnie had cancer.
Kim Possible was stunned at Vee's new appearance.
The old Vee would just shower and put on her trademark olive drab Bundeswher safari style shirt, a pair of black cargo pants, and work boots.
The Violetta Lee standing in front of her was sporting a bob cut with finger waves instead of her normal shoulder blade length straight cut. She was actually wearing make up and emerald earrings. Toss in an sleeveless asymmetry black cotton cheongsam with green trim, Chinese icons, and cucurbit frogs – it put a certain little black dress that Kim once wore for her first real date with Ron Stoppable, the one during the moodulator incident, to shame.
"Do you think Ronnie would like this, Misses Pee?"
At the rate Vee is going, I am going to be a grandmother sooner than later. I want my revenge but I wanted to wait a while.
"Why yes. Did you buy this?"
Vee shook her head.
"Tita 'Berta would not let me use her credit card to order online. I could not buy it but no one told me anything about not making one. I found the pattern in a store and talked the lady at the fabric place to give me lessons. It took me three weeks. Tita 'Berta actually ran a credit check on me before she believed I made it."
"Very nice."
Why me? Is God stilled pissed off a me for the mile high club? Why couldn't Vee wait until she was eighteen before blossiming.
Ronnie Possible suppressed the urge to kiss the ground upon landing.
Despite his immense relief, his fellow passengers had continued suffering from air sickness once they touched earth. Vomit littered the ramp.
Ronnie made his out to the waiting area. The second he stepped out a blur of black and green attacked him and he found himself being kissed...by a goddess.
"I missed you really, really bad, naughty cowboy."
She had sucked the air out of his lungs with that kiss. He took a couple deep breathes trying to get air in his lungs as he tried to figure out what happen.
Ronnie looked up into the goddess' green eyes. He could not help but to kiss her back.
"Ain't you going to kiss your mother?"
He turned around to see his mother. He kissed her on the cheek.
"Happy mom."
"I better not see you slipping the tongue to your girl, young man."
Ronnie was overwhelmed.
"Vee?"
The goddess smiled back.
"I would kiss you again, but your mom is getting jealous."
It was like winning the Super Bowl, being voted MVP, being put on parade, and getting the trip to Disneyland.
"You got dress up for me?"
She nodded, grabbed his free hand, and would not let go.
The trio walked to the van. Violetta and Ronnie sat together in the middle seat. When they left the parking structure, Miss Possible had to dig inside her purse to get the cash to pay for parking. Vee leaned over and slipped Ronnie the tongue and whispered in his ear.
I will be by tonight.
Ronnie wondered what good thing he did in his prior life to end up with Vee as his girl in this one.
Violetta had played her final card at 12:13 AM that night.
She would forever remember that time. Ronnie's alarm clock projected the time unto the ceiling.
It was the moment that the foster child had given away her virtue to Ronald Possible.
Contrary to her expectations, he was no Casanova. Ronnie was just a lost when it came to sex as she was. It hurt when he broke her hymen. He was gentle, but it was not like the dirty movies portrayed it. She did not quiver and moan out of control. She did not become an insatiable nymphomaniac. Her first time was painful...but she did not regret sharing her body with her boy friend. If she could repeat the day, she would do it again.
They made love three times that night. Each time was better than the last as they explored each other and found that they could trust one another. As far as Violetta was concerned it would be just the start.
It was three in the morning when she slipped out of his bed and back home to her bed. She had a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She wanted this relationship to last forever.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Other than some bruising, her body did not look any different than it did earlier this morning when she went with Mrs. Possible to pick up Ronnie.
She was no longer a virgin. She was now a woman trapped in a thirteen year old body. Ronnie was in love with the new her. He made love to the phony her. She knew that somewhere the old her was crying.
Violetta wondered if Ronnie would have loved the old her. However, that question was mute. She had only nine more days until he saw the other eighth grade girls. She had to make sure that Ronnie was too smitten with her to notice their bigger busts. Ronnie was hers and she would fight to keep him hers.
She went to bed. The alarm would wake her up at six.
Soon it would be time for her to take her medication. It kept her alive, but it kept her from being perfect for her boy. She cursed fate for her imperfections. She grabbed her inhaler and went to the bath room to take the damn poison. She would clean off the blood and fluids off her lower parts.
Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow would be another battle in the campaign to keep Ronnie a part of her life.
From the surveillance footage of the child sneaking out of 145 Able Lane at 3:14 in the morning, the monster instinctively knew that his daughter had seduced her first lover. Unlike most fathers, he was proud of his child.
She was quite heart-stopping and a part of him was jealous that he would never have her flower like he took her mother. He did not need a DNA test to know that this woman was the child that the necromancer took away from him. Blood instinctively knew blood.
He knew that the young boy would not betray her for a while. He would have to wait for a little while. However, the monster also had a plan just in case the boy turned out to be loyal for too long. He had the tools to ensure that she would forever hate her first lover.
The father stole his first true love. Now the son was going to pay for the sins of the father. The monster knew the lusts that lied within every man's heart. He would use those lusts to ensure that the boyfriend would betray his child's trust in due time.
There is no greater anger than the righteous anger of a lover scorned.
The son of his rival for Yori's love would be a worthy first kill for his child.
The thought brought a twisted smile to the monster's face.
It was not the first time that Tim Possible awoke in the arms of a woman.
Tim had long preferred one night stands to permanent relationships. It was best for him. It was better for the lady than being caught up in his old life of deceit and dishonor. He got his ashes regularly hauled without paying for a professional and without risking someone getting too close to his shriveled soul.
Today was the first time that he awoke in the arms of a woman that he would keep.
Last night there was no sex. Marie did not have to cheapen herself that way to seize his loyalty. She had more than shown her love for him and he was not going to ask her to lower herself.
Tim turned over and looked at the angel that saved his soul. He leaned over and kissed her. She kissed him back.
Twelve hours later, the demon and the angel were married in a quiet ceremony. The only attendants were the old doctor and the young priest that married the pair.
Tim Possible was entered into the central registry as Timofey Ivanovich Posibeev, former Russian Army NCO and currently an unemployed geologist. The doctor lied and used a dead girl's name for Marie. She was entered into the central registry book as Marie-Anastasia Viktoronva Netrebko, now Anastasia Viktoronva Posibeev.
Later that night, the newly-weds consummated the marriage. He did not know if he would describe what he felt as love. What he did know was that she loved him and she saved his life. That obligated him to be there for her.
He thought back to his old life. His parents would be happy that there would be another potential lines of Possible's in the future. There would be no more arranged blind dates with girls with nice personalities. His brother would be upset that he was not the best man. His sister would be unhappy that she could not rat out all his bad habits to his fiancé. He hoped that his nephew would understand why he was no longer hunting down Drakken and prayed that his nephew would not fail down the same path he did.
Ronnie Possible woke up early and put the sheets into the laundry as Violetta instructed. There was blood and stick fluids on the sheets. Making sure that the machine was running, he climbed into the shower to clean off the last of the evidence. There the double helix of guilt hit him.
Having an Irish-Catholic mother and a Jewish father ensured that he was issued with the double whammy of guilt.
You didn't use a condom. It hurt her and yet you still did it. What if she gets pregnant?
Those and a whole swirl of other issues occupied his mind until he realized that he used up all the hot water in the water heater.
The cold water was hell. However, despite the guilt, his thing was still ready for more action.
Ronnie Possible muttered a curse.
Having sex only made his lust grow. To him, lust was like a muscle, the more you use it, the bigger it got. However, Ronnie Possible knew that would be a price to pay someday. He thought of cooling off the physical part of their relationship. However, if Vee came over, he knew that he would give in and lie with her again. A part of him just wanted to go over to her place and consequence be damned walk up to her room and do it again.
Having been at the farm for most of the summer made Ronnie an early riser.
Violetta was never a morning person, especially when she did not get a good night's sleep. However, he had to see her. It was five fifty-five in the morning. He needed to speak to her about all the confusion in his mind.