Some post-Clean Slate angst. –N
Drakken shoved Shego's hand aside, scattering the notecards. "Hey!"
"It was a good plan," Drakken muttered. "If Kim freaking Possible hadn't interfered …" Drakken trailed off as he attempted to stumble to his feet and failed, a sudden wave of pain across his forehead sending him to his knees.
"Dr. D?" Shego's voice, but as if from a distance.
"I'm fine, fine. Just have to –" He grabbed Shego's arm and pulled himself to his feet, meandering now back to the hovercar.
"Drakken! You might have a concussion."
"You're not my mom," he spat at her, knowing how childish it sounded the moment the words left his lips. "Just … Just drive."
Shego followed behind him, watching his every move. He'd definitely hit his head hard, even if he didn't have a concussion. She bit her lip as he practically fell into the passenger's side. "Really, we could at least get Gonzalez to look at it or –"
"Oh, you suddenly care now?" The cold, hard glare he aimed at her only hardened her resolve. Who was he to talk to her like that?
"Fine. Die in your sleep for all I care." She started the hovercar and took off. They spent rest of the ride back to the lair in silence.
