Take Me As I Am
I.
Ron set the empty shot glass down on the bar. He swallowed the harsh, hot whiskey relishing the astringent texture it left his mouth in, smoldering all the way down his throat. He didn't drink to forget. Ron didn't drink to get a buzz. The tingling sensation from the austere liquor helped him remember the pain he had inflicted upon himself and Kim. Did he still believe that his decision was necessary? To this day, Ron didn't regret his choice. In his heart of hearts, he believed it the only solution to save his love from feeling entrapped in an endless cycle of failure and pulling her down.
The two shots of dry whiskey he took every Friday night helped remind him of the burden he took over a year ago. One for himself, and one he took for Kim in her place to show he would take the pain so she could fly. He started this tradition right after graduating with his Special Forces Tab. Alcohol, still after three months didn't suit Ron's palate. In fact, Ron found the taste of any alcohol repulsive and that was why he chose it as his reminder. The bitter taste and the flaming, parched sensation it left reminding him of his duty to his burden. To this day it pained his heart that he let go but found it necessary for Kim's sake.
Now in the spring of 2010, Ron Stoppable was no longer the young man he used to be a year and a half earlier. From being Kim Possible's chain and ball to college dropout, Ron went to earn the Special Forces Tab and continued on to earn a Ranger Tab. Three stripes also attained for the rank of Sergeant, not that that rank mattered much in the Special Forces, he was essentially a private in all but name. From brute with monkey powers to a sharpened fighter with keen instincts.
He stared into the second glass of auric liquor, sliding the empty shot glass down the bar toward the gruff female bartender. Ron paid her no mind as she rolled her eyes cleaning out the glass. He raised the glass to his nose, the smell prickling his senses and singeing his stubble. Ron knew many enthusiasts liked to swirl the caramel liquid in the glass and savor all its fragrant aromas. Avid drinkers loved the tease before the drink and alcoholic's poured it straight down their gullet. Ron's knack for sniffing the spirit was the same as for drinking it. In his own paradoxical ritual, the poignant smell reminding him of the pain while the alcohol numbed his nerves to it.
"You going to take your second shot?" A man next to Ron asked. It was a friend he had met when he had been assigned to the 7th Special Forces Group. His name was Bradley Collins. He was also in his new ODA.
Ron ignored him continuing to stare at his drink. Reminiscing on the past, Kim's fading voice far closer to Ron's ear than his friend's. He wouldn't call him his best friend but someone who listened to Ron ramble about his past. Nonetheless, still a good friend. Ron never explained his relationship with Kim to his new brothers in arms, save for Collins and his team sergeant. He left Kim out of his story, coveting his legacy with her to himself. Although classified as top secret, even his fellow soldiers in the 7th knew he had powers. Kim however, that secret he held closer than the non-disclosure papers that his ODA signed to secrecy about his powers.
"You do this to yourself every week. I still don't get why you can't just forget about her and move on. There's plenty of tail to chase here!" Collins leaned back swigging down the rest of his tap. He set his glass down, wiping his mouth and motioning the bartender that he wanted more. He looked back at Ron as she took his glass. "Ya know, it would be awesome if you could end your pity fiesta and actually tap the tail that chased you. Then maybe at least I could get whoever you didn't take, buzz-kill."
"I can't… I won't do that," Ron swirled the bourbon in his glass aimlessly. "I only love one girl. It just wasn't meant to work out is all. Not in this lifetime anyway," Ron said solemnly.
The barmaid slid Collin's another glass of tap. "Oh geez. Get over her already. Sure, she saved the world, but she was nothing special. I mean look at us. You think she could beat some of us—"
"I know she would kick your ass. No doubt about it," Ron's voice hardened.
"Riiiiight… Listen, I know you guys saved the world and all from wanton criminals and mad scientists back when you were teens" — Collin's took a swig from his glass— "but we're grown up now. She's heading toward the life of a diplomat and you're going down the path of a fighter. This is what you wanted, right?"
"You're not wrong…" Ron softened his tone.
"Then why the hell are you taking it out on yourself? You did what's right by her. Now she's out there spreading her angelic wings soaring into the world of politics saving the world by uniting it. Soon we'll be fighting aliens instead of terrorists," Collins scoffed lifting his glass to his lips. He paused noting that Ron still stared at his shot of whiskey. "You know, maybe you should stretch your demonic wings," Collins smirked before taking another glug of his golden lager.
"Demonic wings?" Ron grimaced at the thought of Collins words.
"Ya know, you said that limey said you were an uneducated brute. If your ex is an angel then you're a demon. Spread those batty wings and soar into the underworld. It's where we're heading anyway," Collins explained his position.
Ron quirked his brow glancing over at his friend awkwardly, "You don't have many friends, do you?"
Collins shot Ron a glare, "Like you do?"
"More friends than you," Ron replied with a smirk.
"Your creepy naked mole-rat doesn't count!" Collins slammed his glass onto the bar.
"Hey! You break it, you buy it!" the barmaid slapped her hand onto the bar in front of Collins.
"Don't worry toots, I won't break a damn thing. But, if I can ask you a favor…" Collins leaned in toward the barmaid, the alcohol starting to take control of his actions and slurs, "Could you break me in tonight, sweets?" Collins smiled playfully.
The barmaid's face turned red as she raised her hand. Before she could bring it down on the unsuspecting Collins, Ron threw his hand in front of him. "I'm so sorry ma'am. My friend here still doesn't know how to treat a woman, especially one of your badical beauty. So just spare your hand the trouble and I'll take care of him later tonight," Ron gave the barmaid a nervous smile.
The barmaid tsked lowering her hand, shooting Collins an ominous glare. She straightened her shirt and walked away. Collins took another swig of his drink, "Why'd you do that?"
"You're not gonna ruin the place I come to drink at Collins. If you want your ass kicked, you're on a roll," Ron frowned lowering his hand back to the bar. "And that's why you have no friends or dates," Ron added looking back at his drink.
"What do you mean!?" Collins exclaimed pounding his fist into the table.
"You don't know how to treat a woman, especially one like that. You're a buzz-kill for everyone, which is why no one but myself hangs out with you," Ron explained somberly.
Collins blinked confused. His face looked as if it had been slapped by the barmaid herself. As revelation dawned, he caught on at what Ron said. "Are you saying that you're only my friend because I deter all the girls!?"
Ron lifted the shot glass to his nose again and muttered, "Pretty much."
Collins turned back to his own half-filled drink, "That's harsh brother."
Silence fell over the two as they both stared at their drinks in the hot humid tavern. Ron didn't want to admit it but his slight at his comrade was a half-truth. Collins was terrible with women. He truly had no concept of how to talk to them. Collins would always stumble with his delivery or be straight up chauvinistic in his manners. Ron knew that Collins didn't truly feel that way about them and behind the scenes was more romantic than others. But the stubborn Collins never listened to Ron's advice, instead, letting whatever spirits he drank guide his decisions.
This however worked out for Ron. To other ladies, Ron was half at fault for not reining in his friend and thus looked just as big of a jerk as Collins himself. It blocked out any of the attractive traits he had gained and that worked for Ron. Searching for a one-night stand or friends with benefits didn't interest him. Avoiding interactions with the opposite sex suited Ron's desire. Kim still held his heart after all and that would never change. Still, it was only a half-truth. Collins was a good friend that Ron had come to cherish in his own way.
"Hey, your girlfriend— I mean your friend is on the screen," Ron's eyes drifted up to the screen behind the bar over the shelves of liquor. Collins wasn't pulling his leg. On the screen was a young Kim Possible, somewhere in the world on a stage. By the headlines on the bottom of the screen, Kim was at a world conference between all the major powers. There she stood at the podium speaking to the heads of states. "Hey, I can't hear what she's saying. Mind if I ask to turn it up."
"I don't care. Do whatever you want," Ron replied coldly.
"Are you sure? We don't have to listen. I can change the channel too—"
"I said I don't mind," Ron's responded in a lighter tone looking back at his shot glass, the whiskey starting to warm from the heat of his hands.
Collins called the male barkeep over and asked him to turn up the television so they could both hear. Ron cringed at hearing her voice. A voice that still held its angelic tune with Ron's heart to this day, over two years since he had last heard her speak.
"…So, I'm calling on all nations, small and vast, abundant or sparse, east and west, to put aside their differences and come together as a united people. We have seen the threat posed to us from beyond the stars firsthand. If we as a people, as humanity cannot come together and build toward a future where we all strive toward a common destiny, then we will become victims… casualties of another calamity.
Another invasion that we may not be so lucky to avert next time. If it wasn't for a hero that day… I know what many of you are thinking and no, although I was there, I was not your hero. If unsung heroes hadn't mustered their courage and valor that day. If they hadn't bravely stood in the face of death and disaster, then many of us here, including myself would not be standing here today…"
On the outside, Ron portrayed a stonewall face. One that showed everyone in the tavern he was uninterested with the auburn-haired girl on the flat-screen. Inside a different story played out. As people in the bar began to murmur about the former teen, now young-adult hero, on TV, many surmised that she was referring to the men and women in uniform and emergency services. Ron knew better. Ron had known her long enough to know the subtle changes in her tone. Even after so long without any contact, Ron knew her that well. Kim's unsung hero was no other than Ron himself. Her words referred to him in the subtlest of ways to the people who weren't there.
"Crazy. I mean based on what you've told me, you would have been her fiance by now," Carlson said looking back at Ron.
"Shut up Collins," Ron said looking back at his shot glass, finally bringing the edge of the glass to his lips.
"I'm just saying. I know you did it because you loved her but any guy here, they would have never left a woman like that," Collins casually rubbed in while taking another swig from his glass.
While Collins continued to listen to Kim's speech with interest, Ron's head sank to his shot glass. What does Collins know? Freaking guy's never had a girlfriend in the first place. He'd have more luck if he just kept his mouth shut. Ron, flustered at his friend's remarks raised his shot to his lips again. He needed to complete his ritual before the whiskey lost its touch.
"You knew an amazing girl. It's a shame you broke things off. I bet you're all torn up too," Collins lamented for Ron's decision, even if Ron himself wouldn't admit to it.
Ron explained many times to his friend, that dating his best friend in high school was a mistake. Every time, Collins rebuked Ron's claims of realization and informed his friend he was in denial. I'm not in denial. I just did what was best for Kim. The ultimate form of love is sacrifice and that doesn't always have to be physically, Ron thought inwardly. "I already told you. It was a mistake, I don't love her anymore," Ron said coldly as he poured the glass into his throat.
"Is that so!" an all too familiar and unwelcoming voice rang out from behind him.
With the whiskey still running down his throat and before Collins could turn, Ron slammed the shot glass onto the edge of the bar turning the smooth lip into a jagged object. Ron swung around in his stool, aiming the weaponized glass at the voice behind him. Green glowing hands caught Ron's weapon turning it into dust.
"Whoa there, a little touchy on the subject aren't we?" Shego smiled slyly. "I'm lucky I had my guard up, otherwise you might have actually hurt me. Nice to see you again too, Stoppable. But can we stop with the antics, I'm not here to start a fight," Shego relaxed her stance, cooling down her glow.
Realizing she didn't pose a threat and noticing that everyone's eyes were on them now, Ron slowly turned around. "My bad everyone, just a little anxiety is all," Ron half-waved trying to ignore the stares. He looked at the barmaid, "Just put the glass on my tab. And could you give me a shot of vodka. I'm going to need it."
Collins stared at the two, bewildered at what was transpiring. "Stoppable. Who is she?"
Shego sat to Ron's side opposite of Collins. "I didn't take you for a drinker Stoppable."
"And I didn't take you for a soldier, yet here you are in fatigues. Are you trying to mock me?" Ron asked taking note that Shego wasn't in her usual green jumpsuit, but army fatigues. I'm not an alcoholic, but I have a suspicion that if you're here, that implies my headaches are about to multiply and I might as well become one.
"Daaamn! Hot mama! You know this gal?" Collins whistled.
Shego's brow rimpled as she shot Ron's friend a death stare, "Stoppable. Tell your friend that if he doesn't stop gawking, he's not going to have eyes to gawk from."
Ron snorted as the barmaid slid him his vodka, "Good luck with that. You're welcome to do it, I won't stop you. So if you're not here to mock me, why the uniform?" Ron said lifting the glass to his lips. He never had drunk for any purpose other than his ritual. Now, he feared the answer he was about to receive could change that.
"Couldn't tell by the tabs? I'm part of the seventh now. To be more specific, I'm part of your team."
"Yup, I was afraid of that," Ron said pouring the vodka down his throat. Shego in the Special Force's and part of his detachment. Hoping that the uniform and tabs she donned and her thick black hair tied into a bun was all just part of a bad joke was over. Real-life is a monkey hanging from a tree throwing lemons. Lots of lemons. "So I'm guessing you just got assigned? What made you join the army?"
"Why ask bro!? She has my vote. Master Sergeant Bryer isn't going to get any complaints from me," Collins withdrew back to his beer, trying to steal any chance he got to glance at the former green villain.
Shego elicited a low growl before looking back at Ron. "Well, after the whole invasion and everything got rebuilt, I didn't know what to do. Uncle Sam must have thought the same thing. Long story short, the authorities gave me two options for everything I've done. Federal prison or serving in the armed forces, specifically… Special Forces." Shego put her own green beret on the bar, sporting the familiar red shield flash. "There were rumors that you joined," Shego pointed at Ron. "I just couldn't make heads or tails of it. My only condition to the authorities was that I be placed with you."
"Another drink over here!" Ron shouted at the barmaid, desperate for the alcohol to tell him this was all a bad joke. "Why follow me? Does it look like I wanted to be bothered or something?" Ron asked.
"No. When I requested that, the authorities said that it wouldn't be a problem and it was already planned. I guess the army had this in the works for a while now," Shego stared down at her beret.
This was a Shego Ron hadn't met before. One that calmly explained things to a former enemy. Here she was dressed up completely different than her former self. Another shot-glass of liquor slid to Ron. He caught it in his hand and downed it. Ron set the glass down on the bar, "What about Drakken? I thought that after helping save the world, you guys would have been forgiven. Didn't you guys… you know…?" Ron still couldn't picture the two, blue and green together.
"Right! That's what I said. But apparently saving the world once only made up for one attempt or whatever," Shego let out a half-laugh. "So, seeing the good doctor was on a different path, I took all the blame. Told G.J. that I found Drakken and used him, threatened that if he didn't comply he'd be iced."
"They bought it?" Ron questioned surprised.
"Hook, line, and sinker," Shego elicited a small smile and looked back at Ron. "Besides, I'm not totally good anymore. I like being bad still and this is the only path where I can legally kick some ass."
"Yet you're going to get yourself in hot water first thing by drinking at a bar in uniform?" Ron smirked coyly at the former green villainess.
"I didn't totally turn from my ways. I like to be a trouble-maker and I'm gonna be a handful," Shego smirked back swiping away Ron's shot glass and raising it to the barmaid asking for a drink herself.
"You're gonna hate humanitarian missions then," Ron chuckled at the thought of Shego being a peacekeeper and handing out treats and playing with children.
Shego rolled her eyes and scoffed, "As long as I get to kick some ass. Enough about me. What's up with you and princess?"
Ron's smile disappeared, "Nothing much. Just decided we were walking different paths…"
"He doesn't like to talk about it," Collins interjected.
Shego growled at Ron's friend before looking back at Ron. "Clearly. I mean, I expected to find Kim in G.J. as an agent. Yet the script is flipped. Kimmy is trying to save the world by being the poster child for unity while you joined the army as a killer. Never took you for one until that day."
"You would have done the same thing," Ron almost whispered.
"So that's it? You and princess are done?" Shego asked incredulously.
"That's it. Why? Did someone ask you to change my mind along the way?" Ron asked leaning onto the bar.
"No. I just have a feeling that your story with her isn't over," Shego said wistfully as the barmaid handed her her drink. "Thanks, you can put it on his tab," Shego thumbed over at an oblivious Collins who was refocused on Ron's childhood friend on the screen.
"What makes you say that?" Ron asked.
"Call it woman's intuition," Shego smirked.
"What about Drakken? What did he say about you joining the army?" Ron asked.
"He couldn't say much. I mean, what was he going to say. 'Don't go!' It wouldn't fit with how I painted him. He's able to go on in life with a new purpose without any anchors holding him back," Shego said, her own persona dimming. "We have an understanding that for a while, things are going to be rough is all. Besides, where he's going isn't my cup of tea," Shego remarked.
"Really? Where's he going that you don't like?" Ron looked over.
"You really don't know? I guess I can't be surprised," Shego replied.
"Listen, I'm still in shock that you're going to be in my detachment, which means you must be the other weapon's expert in the group. Anyways, I guess what I mean is that whatever you have to say doesn't surprise me anymore, cause the fact that you're even here already is enough to put me in shock," Ron explained.
Shego looked at Ron wide-eyed, "Well, I never expected you to be this. So I feel the same. Anyway, Doctor D is working with princess now if I read his last letter right? Apparently in a show of solidarity."
"What?!" Color me shocked. Lemons weren't enough and now the monkeys are flinging themselves at me!
Shego giggled, "I thought you were over the shock?"
Ron rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the ceiling. "Guess life wants to keep throwing me curve balls is all."
"I know right. And now the sidekicks are teaming up to work together," Shego half-mocked with a laugh.
"Don't push it," Ron deadpanned.
II.
Kim walked through the halls of the United Nations Headquarters in New York City. Her heels clicked on the cold marble tile as she marched down the hall. Kim, flustered by the speech she gave to the world's delegates, headed toward the people who refrained her from mentioning the world's true hero. Almost four years since the defeat of Warhawk and Warmonga. Still, the world did not know the truth, and Kim only able to make veiled hints to the vague concept there was a hero other than herself.
To her right was Dr. Drakken, who on the recommendation of her father, came to Cambridge as a professor or rather a professor-to be needing to finish one more thesis to become one. With Mr. Possible's commendation and more than twenty renowned professors and doctors from around the world, the consensus supported that Drakken become the new Dean of Cambridge University. It was not to meant to be seeing that Drakken still needed to attain the title of professor and not everyone had forgotten the diablo sitch. The other obstacle stared them both right in the face as they walked into a small conference room.
"Miss Possible! Absolutely marvelous!" Professor Wood, the Dean of Cambridge almost shouted as the young red-headed hero stepped through the doors. Although there were recommendations for a change in leadership at the university, the student council which included Kim, and the faculty itself found no qualms with Professor Wood. The letters of recommendation confounded the faculty and confused Kim who always found great support from the dean.
"Professor! How was I out there?" Kim asked genuinely concerned about her speech. She felt it forced since she couldn't say what she wanted to say.
"There is nothing to worry about. You did absolutely stunning," Professor Wood stepped toward Kim and embraced her in his arms.
"Ahem. Kimmie-cub…" Mr. Dr. Possible stood behind the professor giving his daughter a soft smile. Kim didn't notice the glare that had been there before. Kim let go of Professor Wood and embraced her father who traveled to support her speech. "You did great out there dear. I'm so proud of you," Mr. Possible whispered.
"Thanks for coming dad," Kim squeezed her father tightly.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," her father squeezed her back. "You nailed it."
Kim let him go and stepped back, glowering at the other three men in the room. "I would have been better if I could have given my original speech."
Kim knew the first one well, he was the commander of the 7th Special Forces Group in the U.S. Army, Colonel Gurtrid. Their muddled past was marked by constant arguments about her continued infatuation with one of the soldiers under his command. His sharp almost arrogant look vexed Kim, standing there in his perfectly crisp fatigues. The other man was more familiar, the shorter and stalkier General Sims, dressed in his sharp, medal-ridden dress-blue uniform.
Another stood behind them casually observing the scene. He stood out like a sore thumb in the room, only his regulation haircut remotely matching his colleagues. Unlike the officers, he had stubble where he should be cleanly shaven. He wore khaki shorts and a buttoned Hawaiian shirt. No rank or insignia. He didn't look diplomatic in the slightest. Kim was confused at what his role exactly was or what he meant to the officers.
"Colonel Gurtrid. A pleasure to see that you'd travel to see me address the United Nations," Kim forced a smile that looked more like a cringe as her brow twitched.
"Miss Possible. After all this time intruding in on my affairs, it seems fair and quaint that I would have the privilege to ensure your compliance with the non-disclosure agreement you signed," the colonel forced his own platitudes.
"I'm sorry Miss Possible. I tried, but I was denied your request," said a solemn General Sims.
"It's okay General. I know you weren't the one who issued the order. And I know you're not the one who asked for it," Kim shot daggers at the colonel. "I still don't find the harm in letting the world know that Ron saved them. He deserves the credit!"
The colonel smirked looking down at his feet, "Miss Possible, I know that we've had our shares of disagreements in the past but please believe me when I tell you I only hold you to this secrecy to keep Mr. Stoppable and his family safe."
"Really? I don't understand how his story puts him in danger. I don't understand why I can't tell the world what really happened that day?" Kim stalked towards the officers. By this time, all eyes in the room were on Kim and the colonel. "Everyone deserves to know what Ron did that day. Ron deserves it."
"Miss Possible—"
"Sir?" the man in the Hawaiian shirt spoke up. "If you don't mind, I'll take it from here. If everyone else doesn't mind I'd like a moment alone with Miss Possible."
General Sims and Colonel Gurtrid nodded and left the room. was the last to leave, looking back at his daughter with worried eyes. Kim gave him a reassuring smile before he left the room completely. The conference room contained just Kim and the out-of-place man.
"So? Who are you? You don't exactly fit in here," Kim said staring into the man's hard eyes crossing her arms. He might be out of place but Kim got the sense that this get-up was to throw people off. Still, she wondered what gave him the right to even hold a conversation with her about Ron.
"You're half right. The United Nations isn't really my cup of joe. You definitely fit in here more than I ever want to. Anyways, I'm going to cut straight to the point, you can stop blaming the colonel for all red-tape you've been given. That's all me," the man explained.
Kim shook her head. Who is this guy? Is some wacko in charge of all this? Someone who desperately needs to change his style of clothing, Kim looked him up and down. "And who are you? You didn't answer that."
"I could really use a cigar about now," the man grumbled. "I'm Master Sergeant Bryer. I'm your ex's operations sergeant. Usually, the captain would come here and explain things but I felt obligated to do it myself. I'm the reason you won't be revealing Ron as the savior of the world in any of your speech's and the D.O.D, G.J., and many others agree with my opinion. And, I'm requesting that you keep his name a secret from now on. Don't make me request a gag order on you."
Kim couldn't find a place to start. She stared at the man wide-eyed. Here was the very reason that she couldn't reveal to the world Ron saved them from Warhawk. Her Ron. She was being barred from even saying his name. Her blood started to simmer. "Why? Why can't I—"
"It might be complicated for you but not so much for us. Let me ask you a question. Do you ever show the enemy your best cards? Do you think it wise? Let's say you have an ace-high but nothing else while your opponent holds a flush. What do you do to win?" Sergeant Bryer asked Kim.
Kim growled at Bryer impatiently, "What does this have anything to do with me letting the world know about Ron?"
"Kim, if you let the world know that Ron is the one who saved them, you let the enemy here at home and out there"— Bryer pointed at the ceiling— "who to target. I can't let you do that. We can't let the enemy up there know that there's only one Ron. One ace. If our teen hero Kim Possible, an ordinary girl who's extraordinary, can take on their best, then any other Lorwardians out there, they'll stay in the shadows of space fearing that any human can be like you. Let them know it was a human with superpowers, then you invite revenge on all of us," Sergeant Bryer explained. "Think about how Ron would feel if he couldn't save you a second time."
Realization dawned on Kim, her anger subsiding. Ron's team leader had been calling the shots behind the scenes. He was the reason her speech was heavily edited. Bryer wasn't just keeping Ron's heroism a secret so she could take the credit, he was purposefully making her take the credit along with Dr. Drakken so that he could protect the world. In a more veiled way, he was carrying on Ron's wish to protect her too.
"You know what he did for you? Right? It's not just the Lorwardian threat, Kim. Right now, you're the face of the world. The reason that ninety-nine percent of all the world's nukes now fall under the general secretary and the continuing treaties in discussion are because of you and Dr. Drakken. If you revealed that Ron saved the world and not you, your reputation would be shattered and so would the peace you're building. You'd be cast out as a fake," Sergeant Bryer added putting a hand on her shoulder. "It would make the perfect storm for what you're trying to prevent."
"You don't know that," Kim contended with a frown.
"Neither do you, Kim. And I'm not willing to risk the outcome. There's a whole list of other reasons I have for keeping his secret, but I'll save those for if we speak another time. It's not that I don't think Ron doesn't deserve the credit but he joined the Special Forces for a reason. Most of us are a different breed of men. I can tell you right now, Stoppable doesn't care about the glory. If he wanted it, he would have chosen a different path."
Looking down at the floor sullenly, Kim was still upset. All this time later and still she hadn't been able to talk to Ron, just watch him from afar and even that was becoming a rarity. Achieving her goal of world peace was within reach, but she was losing time that she would never get back with someone she still loved to this day. The sergeant made a valid point. "I understand. I don't like it. But I get it. I just wish the others could have told me that," Kim said squeezing her arm.
"I told them I would explain it to you. So here I am." Master Sergeant Bryer took in a deep breath. "You have to remain front and center on the world stage. Ron has to be the sidekick that no one remembers. That's just how it is. That green beret fits him perfectly Miss Possible. He's a quiet professional. In a way, he's going to get the job done, and you'll be like the marines who take all the credit," Bryer joked with a half-laugh.
Kim's lips curved up slightly unsure if she was supposed to be happy about that. "But is it right for me to take all the credit?"
"Does it matter Miss Possible? I think for Stoppable, it doesn't matter in the slightest. He knows exactly who he is and what he's capable of. He doesn't need the world to recognize it."
"He needs someone to recognize it though. Doesn't he?"
Bryer's lips curved down. "For me, seeing people live on, my countrymen living in peace, my family safe, you being able to give speeches about unification… that's a reward that few if any can truly cherish and be satisfied with. Stoppable, I believe he's satisfied knowing that you're doing what you want to do, changing the world for the better. I think his idea is like mine, he'll support you from the shadows, ensuring your dreams are achieved."
Kim gazed down at her feet. The more time passed. The more time that ticked away, the more memories she missed making with someone she loved. She set out to make a world that Ron and her could be together in. But what if that was all moot? All the time before, Kim had spent with Ron saving the world with him. Those memories were cherished by both of them and were unique to themselves. Now that she was doing this alone, it wasn't the same. What was the point of getting to that goal if Ron wasn't there by her side? Even if she reached it, what difference did it make?
"What if… what if it isn't my dream? What if these goals of mine are pointless without him?" Kim asked. She wasn't sure why she was asking Ron's detachment sergeant, but it came out.
Bryer frowned, "I don't know exactly what happened between you two, but I can tell you never lost whatever you felt for him. I mean, it's not every day we see gals use their resources to get a secret clearance to stalk an ex from afar, especially in our line of work."
"I'm not stalking! I-I want to make sure he's okay," Kim said sheepishly, her face turning a bright red.
"Pffft! Whatever you want to call it. You keep an eye on him. You care about him," Bryer retorted.
"I don't think I'll ever stop," Kim looked up at Bryer with teary eyes. "I've known Ron since pre-k. We were so close for so long that being apart for this long… well, I'm still not used to it. I don't know if I can get used to it. I don't want to."
"You think he feels the same way?" Bryer asked.
"I hope he does. I've almost reached my goal," Kim tightened her arms to hold herself, her eyes getting wetter.
"What's your goal?"
"This!" Kim waved her arms at the building around her, frustrated. "World peace. If I can achieve that, then… I will have made a world where Ron doesn't have to worry about ruining my dreams," Kim said flustered, almost bitterly at the memories of Ron's reasoning. "I just don't know if this is actually what I really wanted. My dreams. My goals. At the time when I told him, maybe they were my priority but that's only because I never saw myself achieving them alone. I thought he would be by my side."
"And yet he isn't…"
"What if my dream is different? What if saving and uniting the world was never my dream, at least not the way it is now. What if my dream is to be with—"
"With Stoppable?" Bryer finished.
Kim looked up and nodded, "I need to talk to him."
Bryer sighed, "That's on you. I'm just here to explain my actions, even though I'm not required to. If you feel that you need to tell Stoppable otherwise, I can't do that for you. I can tell you that if you give up now, Stoppable's decision will be for naught."
"I know that," Kim lowered her defenses as her arms fell to her sides. Master Sergeant Bryer was right. Ron was where he wanted to be right now. If she gave up right now there was no telling how that would affect Ron. Kim brought eyes back up to Bryer's, "Can you promise me one thing, Sergeant Bryer—"
"Call me Bob," he corrected reaching out his hand.
Kim extended out her hand and shook his, "…okay, Bob. I'm sorry if I've given you so much grief. If I can ask you one thing, could you make sure Ron is taken care of? That is until I get my chance to talk to him at least," Kim asked giving him a smile.
"I don't make promises, especially in combat. But I'll do my damndest to look after him, I'll give you that," Bryer turned away heading toward the door where everyone else exited. Before pulling the door open, he turned his head, "For what it's worth. Stoppable's lucky to have a gal like you watching his back. I hope he reconsiders his decision before you change your mind."
"I won't," Kim answered firmly but with a smile at the sergeant's words.
Bryer gave her one last smirk before turning back and seeing himself out.
Kim looked down at her feet, the corner of her mouth curving up as she thought about everything. The more she slowly found out about Ron, the more she felt Ron was confused, and he had listened to bad advice. She was still angry though. She didn't agree with Bryer about keeping Ron and his abilities a secret. The world needs to know you exist Ron. They need to know that you saved me. I didn't save the world alone that day. We saved it together.
III.
Mr. Possible and Professor Wood took their ears off the doors and quickly walked away to stand with Drakken who had taken the job of postponing delegates and ministers from entering the room to meet Kim. With Bryer's conversation nearly over, neither of them wanted to be caught. The aging professor grimaced, gnawing on the tip of his thumb ruffled by Kim's words.
Mr. Possible glowered at the professor, "What's wrong with you?"
"I can't believe that after all this time, Miss Possible still yearns for that… boy!"
"I told you. She loves him. You can't stop that," Mr. Possible said coyly as they walked back to the others.
"We'll see."
IV.
Master Sergeant Bryer. The operations sergeant of ODA 710. The team sergeant to Sergeant Stoppable. Sergeant Bryer had seen multiple tours to Afghanistan and Iraq. He looked average, was built average, and with the current get-up, Bryer looked like nothing more than an out-of-place tourist. Bryer was anything but, being one of the best America had to offer to the world. The tourist facade he wore gave the impression of blissful ignorance when he was anything but.
As he stepped out of the room, the others, joined by a few delegates from the United Nations nodded and made their way to Miss Possible. Colonel Gurtrid was the only one not present, having left once Bryer took over talking with Kim Possible. One man caught Bryer's attention, a man that he only got to know through his soldier back at Fort Bragg.
"So this is you, huh?" Master Sergeant Bryer asked the recruit holding up a 'Humans' magazine to the fresh graduate Sergeant Stoppable.
Sergeant Stoppable gave him a nervous smile, scratching the back of his neck, "Uh, yea. Back in the day, I used to help Kim Possible out in her missions around the world. But those days are long gone."
"I see. How do you feel that you were cropped out?" Master Sergeant Bryer asked.
"At the time, I was pretty miffed. Now I'm really glad that they cut me out. It let me fade into the background without any trouble," Ron replied quietly, his voice dipping in disappointment.
Bryer gave the young man a discerning look before moving on, noting that Stoppable didn't seem disappointed by being discredited with saving the world but something else. "Being out of the public eye in this profession is a good thing. Now, I know you two are together, how are things work—"
"We were… now we're not," Ron corrected Bryer.
"Really? What happened there?" Sergeant Bryer inquired.
That conversation happened a week after the young man graduated from his course. Ron went on to tell him about the Dean of Cambridge and how a member of the student council would go on to convince him to leave Kim. Bryer couldn't make heads or tails of why Ron would choose to listen to people who meant nothing to him. But Bryer did have a keen sense of inner judgment, at least that's how he saw it.
"Professor Wood!" Bryer smiled waving his hand as the Dean of Cambridge neared him.
The Professor looked back in his direction. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't knoooo—"
Sergeant Bryer grabbed the professor by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into an inlet in the hall where no one could see them. Sergeant Bryer pushed him against the wall, his elbow resting in the crook of his neck. Bryer stared down the professor while he inched his face uncomfortably closer. The professor stopped and winced, afraid of what was to come next.
"We need to have a little talk," Bryer gritted telling the professor with an angry smile.
"This is absolutely outrageous. What is that matter with you!?" Wood protested. "I'm going to report you— to your— commander," the dean choked out his words.
"I don't think you understand who you're dealing with. Do whatever you want. Now… why the hell did you tell Stoppable what you did back then?" Bryer asked.
The professor let out a nervous laugh. "I think you've— been talking to Doctor Possible— too much."
Bryer's eyes narrowed, "Thanks for confirming your guilt, even though I haven't talked to Doctor Possible yet. I have my own source. Now I'm going to ask you one more time. What's your angle and why?"
Still struggling, the professor gave Bryer a sly smile. "I don't have an angle. All I want is for Miss Possible to succeed in her ambitions. That is it."
"Then what's wrong with Stoppable?"
"Wouldn't— you like to— know—" Professor Wood grinned sickly as it became harder for him to breathe.
Bryer glanced left and right quickly, ensuring everyone in the hall had left. Once he found the hall to be empty, he turned his cold stare back at the professor. He clenched his right hand into a fist and drew it back at his waist before he thrust it up into the dean's abdomen. The punch forced the air out of the professor's lungs as he doubled over onto the floor at Bryer's feet into a coughing fit.
"—I'm gonna— report you," Wood said between coughs.
Bryer responded with a kick to the professor's gut. "Who said you could talk! I don't give a damn if you report me!" Bryer reached down and picked up the professor by his collar. He raised him up and drew back his fist, this time aimed at his face. No one was around to hear the professor's whimpers or cries as Bryer unloaded on the Dean of Cambridge. General Sims was back with Miss Possible and Colonel Gurtrid had seen himself out.
Bryer dropped the professor to the floor. Wood pulled himself in a ball as Bryer delivered one final kick to his bloodied, swollen face. The professor slumped against the wall wheezing trying to catch whatever air he could. Bryer squatted down, "I'm going to say this once. Screw off or I'll make you the picture definition of fubar. Understand me?"
Professor Wood glared Bryer down, "You— I'm going— to tell—"
Bryer put a heavy hand over Wood's mouth. "You're not going to say shit. Here's what you're going to do. I'm going to turn around. You have five minutes to find your way out of this building and crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out of— " Wood tried to interrupt but Bryer wouldn't have it. "Do that. And don't show yourself to Miss Possible or anyone else till you're better. If you're asked, you fell down the stairs. If you don't do as I say, I'll make sure the next time we meet… it'll be the last time." Bryer stood up and straightened out his shirt. "Don't interfere with Miss Possible or Stoppable's affairs again. Trust me. If you do, you're gonna wish I had just ended you," Bryer said leaving fear in the professor's eyes. He walked away back to the conference room.
It wasn't like him to intervene in others' affairs unless he was ordered to. Yet something about Stoppable and Possible intrigued him enough to do so. Most organizations might not have seen the potential of Ron but he had since first noticing him barely on the cover of a magazine. Never did he imagine him being part of his newly formed detachment. The potential in that young man was limitless and Bryer believed it so. But he recognized that Possible being out of the young man's life was hampering his efforts. Bryer usually didn't believe in true love. In his eyes, there was love and lovers, companionship, heartbreak. It all existed. But rarely did he ever see it rise to a level so profound that nothing could touch it. If so it was usually one-sided.
Yet here he had seen it first hand. His soldier was still in love with the young and ever-popular Kim Possible. And what the young Sergeant Stoppable didn't know was that Miss Possible still loved him and like him, didn't deviate away from that love at all. Over two years later, even with neither speaking to each other and their relationship non-existent, Kim still held onto that hope there would be reconciliation. Ron on the other hand — because of the living piece of shit professor— held firm that the ultimate form of love was to let Miss Possible soar to new heights. Even if those new heights would be without him. He was content with that.
Bryer glanced back over his shoulder. Professor Wood was gone. "Piece of shit," Bryer mumbled, waiting before he continued down the hall with his hands in his pockets. He himself wouldn't interfere or try to rekindle the two's relationship but he would keep the professor out of their way as best he could. It would be hard though. Kim still wanting to stalk her ex, no matter how good her intentions were, was the least of his problems. Kim's calls for unification under one banner had brought much of the world together but there were always spoilers. Those who didn't want progression into the future. War was coming and he had to prepare a new team to deal with it. That included a young Stoppable.
A/N: Sorry for taking so long, I was supposed to be finished by now. How embarrassing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the latest installment, and let me know what you think!
Once again, Thank you for the reviews!