Author's note:
Ok, so chapter three of six and I bet you're all glad to be rid of the insanity that is Drakken's game day and a certain irate Scotsman.
I've not got too much to say about this chapter other than the title, Mother's going to keep baby healthy and clean is taken from the lyrics to Mother, a song from Pink Floyd's The Wall. When I listened to the album the other week, this song came on and I found the last verse to be particularly relevant to Kim and how she feels her mother has become a bit over-protective. Needless to say, I just had to use part of the songs lyrics for this particular chapter. FYI, I really hope I get the chance to use another line from this song: Mother's going to check out all your girlfriends for you, at a later date, lol.
Anyway, enough from me. Enjoy.
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Chapter Eighteen: Mother's going to keep baby healthy and clean
It was late afternoon when Kim finally parked the Sloth inside her parents' garage. She'd messaged her mom earlier in the day to tell her that she'd be late and half expected to be chewed out over it. However, because she had been using the time to do something 'normal', her mom had simply told her to have fun and come over when she was done. I bet she makes me stay longer after dinner to make up for it though, Kim thought as she climbed out of her car, given her current disposition towards me.
She entered the house, an eerily accurate replica of the original and called out, "hey, Mom, it's me."
"I'm in the lounge, Kimmie," her mom replied.
Kim headed in the direction of her mom's voice, but her foot froze mid-step when her ears pricked up to the sound of something mechanical descending from the ceiling. Her eyes shot in the direction from which it had come and caught sight of what looked like an auto-turret. Oh, crap! Instinctively she dived to the side as the weapon fired, missing her by mere millimetres. "TWEEBS!" she yelled at the top of her voice as she had to continually dodge repeated blasts.
In the living room door, she caught sight of Jim and Tim's heads appearing.
"Cool," Jim said enthusiastically, "it works!"
"No, it doesn't," Tim countered, "it hasn't hit her once!"
"TWEEBS!" Kim yelled again as she scanned the hallway for options. "Turn that thing off!"
She caught sight of Jim pulling out his cell phone. "True, but she is providing excellent data for us to analyse."
Tim nodded in agreement. "However, that targeting system is going to take a lot of work if we want it to be able to disintegrate someone with her reflexes in one shot."
"TWEEBS!" Seeing that her brothers had no intention of disabling their latest creation, she had no choice but to do it her way. Darting towards the wall nearest the auto-turret, she ran up and along it in an arc and sprang towards it; the gun unable to turn and fire fast enough. Catching it mid-flight, she pulled down hard and wrenched it from the ceiling. It died in her hands as she tossed it on the floor at the twins' feet. "Analyse that!"
"AWW," they said in unison, "Mom, Kim ruined our auto-turret!"
"I think your sister is entitled to come into the house without being shot at by your defence system," her mom then said as she appeared behind them.
"But, Mom…" they both said before yelping as her mother grabbed them both by the ear.
"Now, both of you get rid of that silly little turret of yours, clean up the mess it's made of my walls and floor and then, as an apology to your sister, go to the garage and make some free improvements to her car."
"But…but…" the Tweebs stammered, but they quickly stopped when their mother gave them a stern look.
"Go, now," the woman commanded and released Jim and Tim's ears.
The twins scooped up their now destroyed auto-turret and scampered up the stairs, leaving Kim alone with her mom.
"Kimmie," her mom then greeted warmly as she closed in for a hug.
"Hi, Mom," she replied as they embraced; forcing herself to stifle a wince from her ribs.
When they separated, her mother looked her up and down. "I like what you've done with your hair."
"Thanks. I just got it done at Raul's." She turned around so her mom could see the back. After having lost more than an inch to Drakken's death-ray and then having to remove another half-inch worth of singed ends, she'd gone all-in and allowed the stylist to cut it down to just below shoulder-length, thin it out and give it a choppy look. However, she had resisted his offer to put some different shades of red, orange, yellow and even blonde, through it, so that she would look like a lit match; maybe next time.
"It really suits you. Any reason you decided to get it done?"
The questioned sounded fairly innocent and so Kim had no qualms about telling a white lie, "I owed Monique an apology after last weekend and I knew she'd been dying to have Raul style her hair before she goes back to college. So, I called in a favour and treated her to an appointment."
The expression on her mom's face immediately told her that she'd just been busted. "Really? Are you sure it wasn't because some super-villain tried to kill you with some obscene death-ray, but only managed to disintegrate some of your hair because his sidekick chose to ruin his plan at the last second?"
"Errr…" Kim stammered under the intensity of the glare she received.
Her mom then folded her arms, "Kimberly?"
She held up her thumb and forefinger as she cringed, "maybe just a little." Oh, crap! How much of my fight with Shego got broadcast on every TV station around the globe?
Then as though reading her mind, her mom answered, "a lot of it. And the good people at HeroTV had already started a three-hour commentary, dissection and analysis of it by the time I came home from work. Your brothers were kind enough to rewind it so I could watch from the start."
I bet they were, Kim gulped, uh oh! I am so dead!
"Now, young lady, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?"
"What's the easy way?" Kim asked, already knowing what her mom was referring to.
"You come quietly up to your old bedroom and let me examine you; head to toe."
Ok, so not going to happen. "And the hard way?"
Her mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a small remote control. She gave Kim a small smile as she pressed a button. "I lock down the house…"
A thundering sound echoed all around them and she had a bad feeling it had nothing to do with the storm clouds that were almost overhead. Turning her head, her olive-green eyes widened at the sight of the reinforced steel that now covered the windows. Aww, come on! More of the Tweebs handy work?
Sure enough, "…and then use one of the other defence systems your brothers have installed…"
From behind her, Kim heard the sound of a wall panel sliding open. She turned just in time to see a large cannon-like device shoot a large blob of goo straight at her at lightning speed; she had no time to dodge. It hit her square in the chest and quickly enveloped her torso. "What on earth?" she exclaimed.
"…to restrain you and then cart you upstairs anyway."
Her mom chuckled to herself as Kim lost her balance and fell to the floor; the goo cushioning her landing. No matter how hard she tried, she could not free her arms from the confines of the unidentifiable stuff. "TWEEBS!" she yelled, serving only to cause her mom to laugh more.
"Your brothers really are quite the little geniuses," the woman commented airily. "For your sake, I hope they don't ever decide to try their hands at super-villainy. As you might just have met your match. Now, shall we go upstairs?"
As though on cue, there was a scampering noise from upstairs, followed by, "COOL! IT WORKS!"
Kim tried to raise her head to glare at her brothers but could not tilt it far enough back. Instead, she opened her mouth to yell at them again but was beaten to it.
"Boys," her mom said firmly, "don't you have some cleaning to be doing?"
"Sorry, Mom, but that sounds like the auto-turrets about to explode," they both yelled and as quickly as they had come, they were gone again.
"Now, then, Kimmie, you were just about to agree to come quietly."
Kim groaned, there's no way I'm getting out of this stuff. Damn those Tweebs! And damn mom for using their mad inventions against me! In fact, double damn them for giving her access to them in the first place. "Ok, fine, you win. Just get this stuff off of me!"
"Only if you promise to be a good girl and do what the doctor tells you," her mom replied in the sweet tone she'd used on her when taking her to the paediatrician as a child.
"Alright, fine," Kim huffed in resignation, "just get this stuff off of me."
She heard a beep and the goo suddenly slithered off of her and she watched it quickly squelch all the way along the floor, up the wall and back into the barrel of the cannon. "What on earth is that stuff?" she asked as she picked herself up.
"Honestly, I have no idea," her mom replied as she retracted the house's blast shutters. "Your brothers cooked it up for a science project at the end of last term and then installed it as part of their security system. As you saw, it comes in quite handy."
"Not really," Kim grumbled sourly.
"You'll change your tune once your brothers install one of those cannons on the Sloth."
An image of her firing a glob of the unidentifiable stuff at a running Drakken filled her mind and she quickly caught herself wondering if her brothers could shrink the tech down to something she could carry on her belt. Dammit. As much as they annoy me, the Tweebs are just as tech-savvy when it comes to gadgets as Wade… maybe even more so. And they still barter in favours. Should I start trading the tech I snag from villains to them instead? It was something to ponder at a later date as her mom had already walked to the foot of the stairs and indicated for her to follow. Dragging her feet, she did as she was bid until she found herself climbing the familiar wooden steps up to her old attic bedroom.
Her mom followed her up and then closed the hatch cover over so as to give them some privacy. On the bed, Kim's eyes immediately caught sight of the waiting array of medical supplies. It seemed her mom was already well prepared this time.
"Ok, Kim, you know the drill, strip."
She rolled her eyes long-sufferingly, her gaze lingering on the windows. I wonder if I could break through them before Mom has the chance to drop those damn blast shutters again?
"Kim," her mom said sternly and she knew her mind had just been read again, "the hallway is not the only room in the house with some of your brothers' intruder restraining security devices."
Sighing, she unzipped her jacket, pulled it off, then began unbuttoning her shirt. She tossed it on the bed, "happy?" The look she received told her that it was not good enough. She had to sit down on the edge of the bed to unlace her trainers, as bending over would tell her mom that her ribs were still rather tender; especially after her altercation with the stupid auto-turret. She slipped off her jeans and was left covered only by her underwear, the strapping around her ribs and the other dressings she'd put on after coming out of the shower that morning. Kim looked up to see her mom reading a notepad. "What's that?" she asked but had a bad feeling she already knew.
"My notes from last night's broadcast," her mom replied as she flicked through several more pages.
How many injuries does she think I sustained yesterday?
"When was the last time you let a doctor look at you?"
The question caught Kim off-guard and she did not have a lie prepared for it, "umm…"
She received another pointed look.
Unfortunately, the only thing that came to mind was the truth, "last time you checked me over."
"Kimberly Ann Possible," her mom exclaimed in alarm, "that was months ago; when you hurt your back."
"Was it?" she asked innocently, knowing full well it had been.
Her mom raised a hand to her forehead, shook her head and sighed. "Kimmie, we agreed after you suffered those horrific burns to your left shoulder blade…"
She felt a burning sensation spread over the three claw marks as they were invoked.
"…that you would get checked over whenever you came home or if you had suffered any sort of nasty injury. I even offered to do it myself. The only reason I didn't insist was because I thought you had the sense to follow good medical advice."
Her mom had tactfully left out the part about them not being on good speaking terms when the claw incident occurred. Although, it had been the start of that particular bridge being repaired. Regardless, it had not been anger she heard in her mother's tone, rather disappointment and that sounded far worse. She hadn't meant to ignore her advice, just never got around to following it. Given that she never knew when she would be home, she couldn't exactly plan ahead to arrange a check-up with a doctor and when she finally did come back to Middleton, it took too long to get an appointment that she would invariably be gone again before it arrived. The obvious solution would have been to simply accept her mom's offer, however, she could not hack the idea of having to put up with the overbearing parent who, despite what they might say, still thought she had made a mistake in not going to college, routine. Besides, the claw marks from Shego were the extreme exception when it came to the sort of injuries she sustained; not the rule.
Kim sighed internally. With the number of notes she's made from just one fight, I'll be lucky if I'm allowed to leave tonight, let alone use my own judgement when it comes to my health in future. A grim thought then crossed her mind, if she browbeats Wade, who I know will cave, into telling her when and where I'll get home from now on, I'll have to both kick his butt and ditch him as my gearhead. Unfortunately, option two lives under mom's roof and rules…
"Come on, Kimmie, stand up," her mom then instructed.
Hesitantly, she got to her feet and wrapped her arms around her torso. Even though it was her mother, she felt exposed; her scars on full display. She could feel a slight panic rising and had to make a concentrated effort to keep her breathing steady. If I have trouble standing in my undies in front of mom, how am I supposed to bare all to a boy? It was a serious problem and one she hastily forced to the back of her head. Hell, back in Geneva the other week, she'd worn a vest and shorts when sitting by the pool and had to take an Ativan; technically obtained unethically via an owed favour, so she could strip off for the masseuse.
The sound of her mom snapping on a pair of latex gloves drew her attention. "Ok, Kim, let's start at the top," the woman said as she stepped forwards.
She stood as her mom ran her hands across her scalp and knew the woman's eyes were looking for something in particular. "Oww," Kim winced when her mom touched a spot roughly an inch above her right ear; she hadn't even been aware that it hurt.
"You hit your head when you landed after being thrown," her mom said by way of an explanation, then added, "the same throw that caused some of your ribs to break."
"You've not even looked at my ribs yet!" Kim protested. I'm not letting you have that on conjecture.
Her mom brushed the comment off, "all in good time, Sweetie." Then off-handily added, "I'll be surprised if that hasn't caused a concussion, but I'll get to that in a moment."
Kim huffed as the rest of her head was subjected to a similar level of scrutiny. After she had finished, her mom stopped to jot down a few notes, which she did not allow her daughter to see. I bet whatever that says is not good news for me. She quickly wracked her brain for any other head injuries she might have sustained in the months since her mother last examined her. Unfortunately, they numbered too many to count. I am so boned.
Her mom then took a penlight from her pocket. "Now, keep your eyes open wide."
Kim did as she was told and struggled not to blink at the intensity of the light as it was shone into each eye in turn. She was then made to look at her mom's finger and follow it, finding the action oddly difficult.
"As expected, you've got a mild concussion. However, I'm starting to wonder if it's becoming your default state." Her mom jotted down a few more notes before producing a tongue depressor. "Open wide."
"Mom, I didn't swallow one of Shego's plasma balls," she protested but received a stern look that told her no was not an option. Grudgingly, she did as she was told and her mom slipped the thin wooden stick inside her mouth and pressed her tongue flat.
"Hmm…"
"Waht?" she asked as she rolled her eyes.
"The back of your throat is slightly red, however, it's probably only the start of a secondary infection," her mom replied.
"Ah sehcohndahy inhechion?"
Her mother ignored her question, "now, say ahh for me."
"Ahhhhh."
A few moments later she heard the click of the penlight and the tongue depressor was removed from her mouth. She swallowed a few times as her mom made another note on her pad before saying, "what do you mean a secondary infection?"
"Kimmie, I would have thought with your brainpower you'd be able to figure that out," her mom replied airily as she picked up a tool Kim knew was an ophthalmoscope, (she was the daughter of a doctor after all). "It means that you've got a bigger infection somewhere else and that bacteria in your throat is simply taking advantage of the fact that your immune system is busy elsewhere."
Great, at this rate, she'll have me wearing pyjamas and in my old bed under house arrest before she's even got to my ribs. The ophthalmoscope was then inserted in one ear, followed by the other and then, after a quick attachment change, up each nostril in turn. Damn, she's not been this thorough… ever. Why couldn't Drakken have foregone the TV broadcast and just tried to blow up the White House by way of getting the world's attention? She winced when her mom then began to rub at the glands under her chin.
"Yep," her mom sighed and procured an auditory thermometer. She stuck it in Kim's ear, where it proceeded to make a high-pitched beep, "you definitely have an infection." The woman sat it down on the bed and picked up her notepad again.
"Would it do any good if I told you that I felt fine?" Kim asked hopefully.
She got a sideways glance from over the top of the pad for her trouble. "Ok, Honey, let's get a measure on your heart rate and have a listen to it."
Reluctantly, Kim unfolded her arms and felt her heart rate increase slightly. Get a grip of yourself, Possible! Do you want to add something else to you rap-sheet? She held out her right hand and let her mom attach the mini heartrate monitor to her index finger. The woman then popped her stethoscope into her ears and placed the closed bell over Kim's heart. She focused on her breathing as her mom listened and hoped it would be enough to pass scrutiny.
Fortunately, after a minute, "well, I'm glad to say your heart sounds perfectly healthy." Her mom's gaze then travelled to the clip on her finger, "and your heart rate is good too, but," her expression turned into a frown, "your O2 stat is down."
Kim cringed slightly. "No big?" she asked, but already knew the response would be another stern look as her mom jotted down her findings. "You're not going to let me get away with even point-one of a variance on anything, are you?"
"If you'd kept up your end of our agreement, none of this would even be necessary." Her mom then draped her stethoscope over her shoulders and took the clip off her finger. "I suppose I'd better have a look at those ribs before I listen to your lungs. Arms up."
She groaned as she raised her arms above her head and allowed her mom to remove the strapping. The woman then gasped, "oh, Kimmie! This is worse than I'd expected."
That wasn't good. If her mom thought the injury worse than she'd expected, then it must be pretty bad. Damn you, Shego! "MMPH!" Kim exclaimed as she tried to stifle a cry of pain as her mom pressed her fingers into the centre of the bruise. "Ok… not going to lie… that hurt," she said as she struggled to take in a deep breath. She continued to wince and whimper as the area was poked and prodded some more.
"Kim, you should have come to see me the moment you got home yesterday," her mom then admonished as she stood up and plugged her stethoscope into her ears once more. "At least three of those are broken."
Three!…at least! I thought it was only one! Oh shit! And I went and did my run and full morning workout this morning. In hindsight, it had been a stupid thing to do. The pain when she had woken up had been sharp and had she not been more bothered by her hangover headache and using codeine to make it go away, she probably would have thought better of it. The open bell of the stethoscope was then placed against her back.
"Ok, Kimmie, take a deep breath in for me…"
She did.
"…and out again. Good. Now cough for me."
She was forced to repeat the process for all six regions of her lungs.
Once she was finished, her mom removed the stethoscope from her ears and let out the sigh of a disappointed and concerned mother, "I'm sorry, Sweetie, but it sounds like you've got the start of a respiratory infection." The woman looked ponderous for a moment. "However, it shouldn't have developed so soon after your injury, unless you already had an infection of some sort." Her expression then turned to one of worry. "I'll get some x-ray's in a moment, but first I want to finish examining you."
"Hold on, back up a minute," Kim said in alarm, "what do you mean x-rays! I don't want to go to the hospital."
"Don't be silly, Honey," her mom replied in a light, placating tone, "there's no need for us to go to the hospital. I had your brothers set up a rather good system inside your old wardrobe."
"Inside my wardrobe!" Kim exclaimed. She was not sure which part she found more insane, that the Tweebs and built an x-ray machine for their mother; or that they had done it inside her old wardrobe.
"Of course. The walls of it were lined with steel when the house was rebuilt so as to protect your battle suit. It's not lead, but provides more than adequate protection against a few x-rays."
Great, thanks a lot, Tweebs! She sighed, "how long has that been in there?"
"Since last night. Although the fine-tuning wasn't complete until this morning." Her mom gave her a knowing smile. "I had to bribe Jim and Tim with extra dessert last night, tonight and tomorrow to get it ready in time, but they've done a really good job."
"Why do I get the feeling that you've been planning for this eventuality for a while?"
"Oh, Kimmie, don't be silly." He mother picked up a blood pressure cuff and slipped it around Kim's upper arm. "You make it sound as though I expected my daughter to ignore sound medical advice." Her mom then turned the device on.
She felt the cuff inflate around her upper arm and tighten like a vice for a few moments before it relaxed.
Her mom jotted the reading down on her notepad and then removed it. "Ok, give me some movement in those arms."
Kim knew this was a shorthand way of saying, rotate and flex all your joints while I stand and scrutinise each and every motion, but complied nonetheless. After a minute or two, her mom's gloved hands then made their way along each arm in turn as she tested every joint from her shoulders to the third knuckles in her pinkies. It transpired that she had two sprained fingers on her left hand, which got strapped together and that her right shoulder had popped out at some point, probably during the same crash landing that broke her ribs, but not gone back in properly.
"Here, bite down on this," her mom then said and handed her an old leather belt that had seemed out of place amidst the other medical supplies, but that Kim now knew the reason for.
"You were prepared for this?" she said before taking the leather between her teeth. Fuck, this is going to hurt!
"I had a suspicion." Her mom placed her hands on the joint. "Lucky for me, Dr Lipsky spent so much time monologuing and pacing that he didn't notice that his henchmen's attention and thus the camera was focused on you and…"
"MMMHHH!" Kim yelled, pain shooting through her shoulder as it was rotated out of the joint and pushed back in; her teeth sank into the belt.
"…Shego," her mom finished.
After a few moments, once the pain had subsided, she spat the belt onto the floor. "Little bit of warning next time!"
"If I'd warned you, all that would have happened is that you would have tensed up and made it much more difficult. Now, same again with your legs and let's hope neither of your hips have popped out."
Kim did as requested and began moving her legs. Again, her mom checked every joint from her hips to her little toes on each leg, but found nothing out of place this time. "So, where's dad?" she asked when her mom stopped to add to her notes.
"Your father went into the lab this morning. Something about him being a soft touch that you might try to hide behind in order to stop me checking you over."
Kim couldn't help but laugh, "so, you packed him off to work in order to have your wicked way with me."
"Kimmie," her mom replied in mock offence, then leaned in and whispered in her ear," if you think I'm wicked now, just wait until you've seen the size of the hypodermic I've got waiting for you."
Kim gulped and drew a laugh from her mom's lips. "You're joking, right?"
"Of course, Sweetie. At the rate you're going, it's going to be two at least."
She groaned, "non-negotiable?"
"Non-negotiable," her mom repeated firmly. "Now, hold still while I take a look at your neck and spine."
With no other option available, she complied. Her mom then rotated her neck from side to side, forward and back, then both clockwise and anti-clockwise. She winced slightly and knew that the woman had heard her. Why did I not notice half of these injuries when I got home last night? The answer came quickly. I was still running on adrenaline and excitement at going out to meet Shego and then drunk enough to dull it all until this morning when I promptly hit it with codeine. Ultimately, bar the fact that she would not have done her morning workout, the knowledge would have done her no good. She had made a promise to her mom yesterday and known that she needed to keep it.
Her mom sat her notepad down after some more scribbles. "Ok, let's have a look at these wounds and then it's off to Narnia with you, Lucy."
Kim rolled her eyes at the Lion, the witch and the wardrobe reference. Her mom started at the topmost of seven covered wounds that she'd accumulated over the week; four from yesterday. The first one, located on her upper right arm, got cleaned with an antiseptic wipe and then closed with steri-strips. Numbers two and three, above her left breast and over her lower back, got away with just a simple clean with an antiseptic wipe and a fresh dressing. However, number four, on her left-hand side, was the first to draw comment.
"This one needs sutures," her mom said disapprovingly as she showed Kim the amount of blood that covered the dressing she'd put on that morning. The woman then patted the edge of the bed, "have a seat."
Kim sat and watched her mom fetch the desk chair so she could sit down in front of her. She received her first hypodermic, one that she knew did not count towards the running total of two, and felt the area start to go numb. Meanwhile, her mother threaded a suture. After the wound was thoroughly cleaned with a swab soaked in antiseptic, she turned away before her mom inserted the suture into her flesh. While she had no issue with the sight of blood, she did not like seeing her own flesh getting sewn back together. Largely because she knew it would probably be the sight of her next scar.
"Ok, four down, three to go," her mom said once she had finished the sutures and re-dressed the wound.
Kim stood up again, while her mom remained seated so she could check the three that were on her legs; two on the right, one on the left. Number five across the front of her right thigh, simply got a clean and a new dressing, while number six, over her right knee, got cleaned and closed with steri-strips. Which left only…
"Oh, God!" her mom exclaimed as she removed the last dressing from the back of Kim's left thigh, just below her backside. "Kimmie, what on earth happened?"
"What?" she asked in confusion, oblivious as to why her mom was making such a fuss. "That one was no big. I just scratched my leg a little on the jagged edge of a vent when I jumped out earlier in the week."
"Kim, that 'little scratch' is massively infected. Haven't you been able to see it?"
"No," she replied, "it's too close to my backside and I guess I never thought to take a closer look in the mirror."
"But surely you can feel how hot it is?" her mom asked, still sounding like she was in shock that her daughter had failed to notice how bad one of her wounds had gotten.
"I guess I've been that busy, I haven't really paid much attention to it. Although, now that you mention it, I did wonder this morning why it hadn't healed yet."
There was a note of genuine concern in her mom's voice when she said, "well, I guess this answers the question of why your immune system is so low that you're starting to develop a respiratory infection after only suffering the broken ribs yesterday." The woman then sighed and Kim knew this was a sign that she was pondering what to do. "Ok," she said after a few moments of silence, "given that you don't feel ill at the moment, I'm going to clean, suture and dress this, then give you a tetanus shot and some antibiotics. Hopefully, that should do the trick, but I can't guarantee it. If it doesn't, I'll need to take you into hospital tomorrow and get you something more targeted. Which means you'll be staying the night."
"But, Mom…"
"No ifs, buts or maybes about it, Kimberly Ann," her mom replied firmly, "you're staying the night so I can keep an eye on you and that's that."
Kim knew from her mother's tone that there would be no point in arguing. Ok, so I was joking when I thought she'd end up making me stay the night. And I'd happily bet this isn't the last I'll be hearing about this. Damn that stupid vent! "Ok, I'll stay the night if it'll make you happy."
"I'll be happy when my daughter starts taking her health seriously." As though to emphasise her point, her mom picked up a mirror and held it behind Kim's thigh so that she could see the offending wound.
The area around the open red line was seriously inflamed and yellow and the laceration itself sticky with a cocktail of blood and puss. The rest of her upper thigh was bright red. Holy crap that does look bad. Instinctively, she reached a hand down and could feel the heat radiating from the site before her hand even made contact with her skin. Needless to say, she would have to keep a much closer eye on her wounds in future.
"Ok, Kimmie, hold still."
She did so and watched her mom pick up a pair of tweezers and a second small hypodermic. She felt only a light pinprick before the area started to go numb, but she could still feel the light pressure as something was expertly plucked out of the wound. Her mom then held it up for her to see. It was a tiny, no bigger than half a nail clipping, fragment of rusted metal. The woman then picked up a swab and the bottle of antiseptic to clean the wound, which she then sealed with a few sutures.
"Right then, let's get you into the wardrobe," her mother then said and gave her backside a light pat as she stood up and ushered her over to the makeshift x-ray cabinet.
Kim reluctantly followed and stepped through the door into the empty box that had once housed her clothes. Her mom closed the door behind her and everything went dark. Given that she was used to crawling through much tighter spaces than this, it did not bother her. What did was the knowledge that the Tweebs had been responsible for the construction of the device. Knowing them, I'll probably walk out of here either with superpowers or as a mutated abomination.
"Just hold still, Kimmie, and we'll be done in a jiff," she heard her mom's muffled voice say from the outside.
There was a series of flashes from behind her, but she did not move until her mom said, "ok, you can come out now."
Kim stepped back into her bedroom and saw her mom staring intently at her old computer monitor, which displayed a digital image of her x-rays. She did not fail to notice the scribbles made on the notepad and the grim look on the woman's face as she stood up.
"Right, let's give you your shots."
"Do I have to?" Kim moaned, more out of habit than anything else as she already knew the answer. "I really do feel fine." Then, as though to spite herself, she coughed.
Her mom looked at her with mock disdain. "Once you've gone to college, got a medical degree and completed your internship and residency, then you can query my medical judgement. Until then..."
"You wouldn't listen to even if I did," she replied quickly.
Her mom smiled, "nope. Because regardless of that, I'm your mother and I know best."
"Someone ought to create a villain with that motto."
Kim followed her mother back to her bed and sat down. She watched as the woman opened a box and removed two vials and two hypodermics, one noticeably larger than the other. It was the smaller of the two that was unpackaged first and a shot prepared from the first vial. Reluctantly, she held out her right arm, but only felt the light touch of an antiseptic wipe followed by a tiny pinprick as the needle pierced her flesh and the serum was administered. Her mom then began preparing the second shot.
"Are you allowed to have antibiotics at home?" Kim then asked, thinking about the somewhat unethical nature of the favour she had called in to get the Ativan.
"No," her mom replied, her tone serious. "And if someone were to find out, I would be in serious trouble."
"Then why..."
"Because you're my daughter and I know you would rather be treated out with hospital. Besides, you're not the only one who has favours owed to them."
It was only then that Kim realised just how far her mom had been willing to go in order to make sure she was ok. She couldn't have known that I would have needed these injections, but risked her job regardless, just in case. She felt a bubble of guilt, which had been steadily building throughout the course of the exam, burst inside her. Mom's doing all this because she's worried about me and because she knew I'd break my promise. Is that really the sort of person I've become, someone whose own mother no longer trusts them to keep a promise? The thought was quickly overruled, I save the world on a regular basis, I deserve to be cut some slack!
When she saw that her mom had finished preparing the second injection, Kim held out her left arm.
"I'm sorry, Kimmie, but I need a bigger target for this one," her mom said sympathetically.
She groaned, "you don't mean..."
"I'm afraid so. I'll try and make it as painless as I can."
Grudgingly, Kim stood up, turned around and bent over her bed. She felt her mom shift her panties slightly and rub a spot on her right glute with an antiseptic wipe. Her eyes screwed up and she tensed even before she felt the large hypodermic break her skin and force its way into her backside. She stifled an elongated grimace, the injection seeming to take an age. When eventually the needle was removed, she let out a long breath, "oww."
"I know, Honey, but there was no other option. Now, I've already taken the liberty of picking out some loungewear for you."
Kim's gaze travelled over the medical supplies to a neatly folded stack of clothes on the pillow. She really did think this through in advance. Were the odds of me having some sort of infection that high, or was she planning on keeping me overnight regardless of what she found? Sighing, she straightened up and busied herself with dressing in a pair of lilac trousers, a matching vest and some fluffy socks, while her mom disposed of the medical waste and packed away her supplies. The clothes felt new.
When she had finished, her mother then said, "shall we go downstairs and have a cup of tea?"
Kim nodded and followed her out of the bedroom, noting that her mom was clutching her notepad. Great, now I get to listen to my rap sheet. While the thought crossed her mind, she could not help but feel as though she deserved it. I made mom a promise and I broke it. Not only that, but I blew her off last weekend and then forgot about her until such time as Wade reminded me. Only her brain quickly countered that thought with, I didn't intentionally break it and I've never been bad enough to need to see a doctor. I'd just be wasting their valuable time.
They went downstairs and through into the kitchen and she did not fail to notice the now properly ordered and cleaned hallway and the sounds emanating from the garage. It seemed the Tweebs had dealt with the mess their auto-turret had caused and moved on to working on the Sloth. She stood and waited on her mom boiling the kettle, taking the offer of lemon and ginger tea with honey. Once the beverages were made, they took them into the lounge along with a plate of homemade cookies.
Sitting down on the sofa so that she was facing her mom, she tucked her feet behind her backside and blew lightly on her tea. There was a slightly awkward silence, her mom clearly deciding how she wished to approach the elephant in the room and Kim having no wish to draw attention to it.
"So," her mom eventually began, "I don't think there is an easy way to broach this issue, so I apologise in advance if I sound overbearing or overly critical, but I need you to listen to me, Kim." The woman paused to take a sip of her tea and perhaps to allow the severity of her warning to set in. Her mother shook her head and sighed, "Kim, this," she held up her notepad, "doesn't paint a pretty picture of what's happened to you since I last checked you over a few months ago. In fact, I'd go as far to say that it frightens me. At present, you've got a mild concussion, two sprained fingers, a shoulder that needed reset in the joint, three broken ribs plus two cracked ones on your right side, one rib on your left side that looks like it was cracked a couple of weeks ago and hasn't fully healed, the start of both throat and respiratory infections, five minor lacerations and two that needed sutures; one of which is massively infected. That's before I even get into all the other head traumas and lacerations that I can tell you have sustained over the past few months. And what makes it all worse is that you've already admitted to me that you haven't seen a doctor since then. In short, I am deeply concerned that you are not taking proper care of yourself."
Kim did not know how to respond in the face of such damming testimony. While her instinctive reaction had been to try and whitewash it, she knew she couldn't, not this time. In the end, the only thing she could think to say was, "I'm sorry, Mom. Sorry for making you worry."
Her mother's expression did not soften any. It seemed an apology wasn't going to cut it. "Kim, this isn't just about the fact that your father and I are worried about you, this is about the genuine disregard you seem to have for your health and what might happen to you if you carry on in the same reckless manner." Her mom sighed again, "if I hadn't browbeaten you into coming over today, you probably would have jetted off again come Monday morning or not even come home at all. Meanwhile, your immune system would have continued to weaken as it tried and failed to fight off multiple infections. At what point would you have decided you needed to see a doctor…?"
Kim couldn't answer.
"…When your cough got worse? When your temperature got so high you passed out from the fever? Or maybe once your left thigh became gangrenous and the dead flesh started to fall away?"
She stared into her teacup as her mom listed the scenarios. For the first time, she genuinely pondered the question, when would I have realised that I needed help? Images flashed through her mind. Of her in the artic, the freezing air catching in her chest as she struggled to take a breath and then broke out into a massive coughing fit. Next, she was in the jungle, with its humid conditions and sweat dripping from her as she keeled over from the fever. Finally, she was in a hotel room, staring in a small mirror at the mass of oozing puss that seeped from her blackened thigh when she removed a dressing. Now that her mother put the question to her, each scenario seemed that much more real. Surely, I wouldn't put off getting proper treatment until one of those eventualities befell me? She had a sinking feeling that the answer to that was yes, however, her pride quickly shoved it aside. Don't be stupid, Kim, of course you wouldn't have let it get that far. Mom's just over-reacting, again.
"Mom, I appreciate your concern, but I would never have let it get to that stage. I know my body and my limits," she replied firmly. "And I make sure that I'm ok before I start a mission."
"Kim, please," her mother implored, "I'm not telling you to stop doing your missions, I wouldn't even try, but surely you can see that you have a problem."
"Mom, I'm ok, really," Kim reiterated. While she had no desire to start an argument, she felt a need to get her point across. "Ok, so maybe I should have come to see you yesterday after my mission, but I knew I was coming over today anyway and I really did feel fine yesterday. In fact, I still do."
However, her mom was not yet willing to drop the matter. "And what about your leg, Kim? You didn't even realise it was infected!"
"Ok, so maybe I missed that one," she conceded, "but I would have noticed it sooner rather than later and would have got it treated properly. So, no big."
Her mom shook her head. "Kimberly, I don't think you realise just how precarious this situation is. What if something serious had happened to you?"
"But something serious didn't happen to me. I knew I was coming here today, I let you check me over and treat my injuries, what more do you want?" Her closing remark held more bite than she had intended, but if it got the point across so be it, for she was getting seriously tired of having the same arguments every time she visited her parents. Once they finally cleared the subject of her health, it would be on to her social life and then inevitably her non-existent love life. By dinnertime, she would then have to fend off a joint attack from both parents, where they would both drop innocent hints about what other people her age were doing or of opportunities at various colleges that someone had told them about and so on. I don't need people telling me how to manage my life. I take down super-villains for a living for Christ's sake! I can take care of myself!
Except before then, "I'd like for you to start looking after yourself properly, but since I don't seem to be getting through to you, I'll settle for you keeping the promise that you made me. Every time you come home, I want you to come and see me, so I can address your injuries. I'll even come over to your apartment if you'd prefer."
And so, she came to the juncture. Her mom had given ground and tabled an offer that would end the discussion for another day, should she choose to take it. Or she could dig in her heels and push for her to back off, lest their relationship return to the fractured state it had been in after she'd chosen to become a fulltime hero. On one hand, I want nothing more than for her and dad to get off my case, but on the other, I hated how things were between us after I chose to become a fulltime hero and up until the point I broke up with Ron. She sipped some of her tea as she pondered her options. I suppose I did already make a promise to her and then broke it. Would it really be so bad if I let her patch me up every time I come home? Deep inside she heard a voice scream, "YES!" but it was quickly drowned out by another thought, show, don't tell. If her mom maybe saw that, by and large, she was fine when she came home from her missions, maybe she would back off slightly and trust her to come to her when she actually needed treatment.
She raised her eyes and met her mom's gaze. "Ok, I'll let you check me over when I come home next time."
"And every time after that," her mom added, perhaps sensing her daughter was trying to dupe her.
"Ok," Kim sighed, "you can check me over whenever I'm home, but once you see that there isn't a problem, you trust me to come to you when I actually need to be seen by a doctor."
"I'll take that," her mom said. The woman then quickly set her cup down on the coffee table and opened her arms up for a hug.
She followed suit with her own cup before they embraced.
"I love you, Kimmie cub, and I only want to make sure that you're safe. But you have to keep your promise this time."
"I love you too, Mom," she replied, before adding, "and I will, promise."
Mother and daughter broke off the hug and settled back down on the sofa.
"So," her mom said with a warm smile, "what's the story about this jazz bar tomorrow night?"
Kim's eyes widened, causing her mom to laugh. "How did you…" she sighed, "seriously, that's the first thing Monique did when I dropped her back home?"
"No," her mom chuckled, "she text me with lots of exclamation marks as soon as you had agreed to it. So, tell me everything."
She rolled her eyes and picked up a cookie from the plate on the table. "Ok, but there's not much to tell."
"Tell me anyway. You know I always want to hear about what's going on in your love life. Especially if there are any boys that you like the look of."
"Mom," she laughed, "we've not even been out yet." As the words left her mouth a voice from the deep recesses of her mind said, "no boys, but definitely a girl. Isn't that right, Kimmie?" Kim shuddered on hearing Shego's sultry tone, however, it was quickly snuffed out by the Barkin-dragon, "you like boys, Possible!"
I like boys, Kim reminded herself firmly, but felt herself try and reach for the box containing her recent memories of Shego, only to have the Barkin-dragon bark at her, "don't even think about it, Possible. You like boys, end of discussion."
…Yes, I like boys. Kim took a bite out of her cookie then launched into an explanation of what her plans with Monique were tomorrow night, emphasising the hunt for a boyfriend and also making sure she included the fact she'd checked out some boys back in California; earlier in the week. However, just the mere sound of Shego's seductive voice had put her on edge and she was left with one pressing thought, I need to meet a nice boy tomorrow.