Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible. It belongs to Disney and its creators. If it was in the show, I don't own it. Any songs mentioned are the property of their respective owners and artists. I am not doing this for compensation, simply for enjoyment and practice.

Claimer: Krista Ruthie Stoppable is my OC. If you want to use her, please ask.

After All This Time

Chapter 6

1 Year Later

Secret Research Facility, Outside Cheyenne, Wyoming

It was late when Thomas Moore scanned his ID to enter the lab. The interior was brightly lit. Rows of expensive equipment were being monitored by trusted scientists and technicians – the best that Thomas could hire. The focus of the room was a large, cylindrical chamber, which was connected to various life-support machines. Several tubes were hanging down inside, a small puddle of dark blue fluid at the bottom.

"Henderson, what was so important to wake me up for?" he asked irritably.

The scientist named Henderson set down the clipboard he was studying and turned to his boss. "Sorry, sir. We have a project update for you. Unfortunately, Prototype E has failed."

"Damn it," Thomas muttered. "I had high hopes for this one. What went wrong?"

"The subject suffered multiple seizures, which placed a great deal of strain on the body. We were unable to stabilize its condition. When we performed the autopsy, we discovered some abnormalities in the central nervous system. In order to prevent the same problem in the next subject, we need further information."

Thomas sighed. "Very well. Have Lee fax over what's needed and I'll get it done."

"Yes, sir." Henderson made his way towards a small office in the back of the lab. Thomas headed back towards the parking lot. As he walked, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?" came the groggy answer.

"Steven, we need an appointment tomorrow."

"Sure thing. What for?" Dr. Whitman replied.

"I'll have more information for you in the morning, but it will likely be for several tests, so block out a few hours."

"You got it, boss." Dr. Whitman hung up the phone as Thomas got in his car. Here's hoping Prototype F is the one.

XXXXXXXXXX

Cheyenne, Wyoming

Krista's stomach gurgled and flipped as the Moores drove her to the doctor's office. "Why do I have to go back?"

"The doctor wanted to do more tests to check on your lung condition," Mrs. Moore replied shortly.

"But I just had some done a couple months ago!"

"Krista, stop whining. This is for your health," Mr. Moore said. Krista slumped back in her seat and rode the rest of the way in nervous silence.

When they arrived at the office to check in, Krista was immediately led back to a procedure room and instructed to change into a gown. Dr. Whitman's usual nurse, Millie, entered when she had finished changing.

"Hello, Krista. We're going to be doing a few tests today. One is called a CT scan. This helps us get a better picture of the inside of your body to make sure everything is ok. The other is called a lumbar puncture, or spinal tap. We'll be collecting a little bit of fluid to make sure your brain and nervous system are in good condition," Millie explained.

Krista's head whirled with all the information, but she didn't have time to question it. Millie led her down the hall to the radiology lab. Inside was a big machine shaped like a tube. Dr. Whitman was already there.

"Hey there, little lady. We're just going to get a scan of the inside of your body real quick. Can you come lie on this bed?" Dr. Whitman gestured to a long, pillowed plank that stuck out of the tube. Tentatively, Krista pulled herself up. As she lay down, Dr. Whitman began to explain the procedure.

"It'll only take a few minutes. You'll need to be very still. You might hear some loud buzzing from the machine, but it's nothing to worry about."

"Will it hurt?" Krista asked nervously.

"No, m'am. It's painless," Dr. Whitman replied with a friendly smile. He and Millie retreated behind a glass window and began pressing buttons. Krista took a deep breath as the bed retreated into the machine.

"Alright, Krista, hold your breath for five seconds for me," Dr. Whitman said. Krista inhaled and counted to five, then let her breath out.

"Nice job. Now just relax, but don't move." Krista followed the doctor's instructions, and ten minutes later, the scan was over, and she was being led back to the procedure room she had started in.

Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw the contents of the tray that had been moved next to the exam table. A test tube, a syringe, and a very, very large needle. Krista began to panic, backing out of the room. Unfortunately, Mille was behind her and blocked her exit.

"I don't want to do this," Krista stuttered.

Dr. Whitman looked at her sympathetically. "Sorry, dear. It's for your health. It'll be over before you know it." Millie gave the 9-year-old a gentle push towards the exam table. She was instructed to lie on her side in a fetal position, hugging her legs to her chest.

"What's gonna happen?" Krista's heart was pounding a mile a minute.

"I'm going to numb you up, and then I will insert a needle between two of the bones in your lower back. This will let me get a sample of your spinal fluid so we can test it and make sure everything is a-okay," Dr. Whitman explained. He tried to use a soothing voice, but Krista was anything but calm. She felt something cold against her back, and she knew the needles were coming next.

"I'm scared," she whispered, tears brimming in her green eyes.

"Be brave," Millie encouraged.

"Ready?" Dr. Whitman asked. Millie positioned herself to hold Krista still and in place. Krista's breath came faster.

"You'll feel a little sting as I numb you." She felt a sharp poke and a burning sensation in her back, making her whimper. She began to tremble, cold fear creeping over her body.

"Alright, here we go. Hold still, Krista. One, two, three." Krista screamed as the needle was inserted into her back. It felt as if a fire blazed at the base of her spine. She couldn't imagine what it would have felt like if Dr. Whitman hadn't numbed her first. Of all the times she had had needles poked into her body over the years, this was by far the worst. Millie held her tightly in place. She felt a heavy pressure, and then more pain as the needle was adjusted.

"Make it stop! Make it stop! Please!" Krista cried. The agony was too much for her. All she wanted was for it to be over.

"Dear, you need to hold still. It's only making it worse," Dr. Whitman warned. Krista's sobs started anew as the pressure returned. It felt like an eternity had passed when Dr. Whitman announced it was over. Krista continued to lay on the exam table, shaking, tears still running down her cheeks as the pain finally began to subside. She hugged herself tightly, trying all she could to will the memory of the pain away. She heard Dr. Whitman speaking, but she couldn't make out his words, her attention still on the agony she had just endured. It was only when a figure stood in front of her that she emerged from her shock.

"Krista, let's go. Get changed. We have things to do." Mrs. Moore tossed her clothes at her and walked out of the room. Krista slowly sat up, her lower back throbbing. Millie helped her to change, then escorted her back out to the waiting room.

"Take it easy today. Don't do any physical activity. I would recommend just staying in bed," Dr. Whitman instructed her. Krista could only nod as she was impatiently ushered away and back to the car.

XXXXXXXXXX

6 Months Later

Cheyenne, Wyoming

Krista hugged her knees to her chest as she watched the other kids play in the backyard. Ever since Ethan left, the others had begun to distance themselves from her. She recalled a conversation between Nolan and Ellie she overheard just a few days after Ethan was adopted.

"I'm telling you, Ellie, I saw what he looked like right before they came to pick him up. And don't you notice how Krista is in perfect condition?" Nolan whispered urgently.

"I don't know, Nolan… Are you sure it's not because she's so young?" Ellie sounded hesitant.

"That's never stopped them before. Don't you remember what happened to Janey when she broke that plate? She had to wear long sleeves for a week, and she was Krista's age. Younger, even."

"And you're sure she was with him?"

"Definitely. Ethan told me his plan, and Hazel says she saw Krista leave to meet him. Look, I'm not blaming her for what happened. All I'm asking is, why doesn't she ever get punished like the rest of us?"

Ever since then, the other children had begun to shun her, as if she were some disease they didn't want to catch. As a result, Krista had withdrawn further into herself. Her words were few, her smiles rare. What if she was at fault for what happened to Ethan? She couldn't bear it if someone else got hurt because of her.

The screen door swung open, and Mrs. Moore stood on the threshold, sweaty-faced and scowling. "Outdoor time is over. Someone's got to help me with dinner." She turned back inside as the group glanced at Krista.

"Not it." The mantra was echoed among the children, and Krista sighed.

"I'll do it." She trudged back into the building, making her way across the worn and scuffed wood floors to the small kitchen. Mrs. Moore had several vegetables out on the counter. A steaming pot of broth sat atop the stove that seemed older than all the children put together. Krista knocked tentatively on the door frame. Mrs. Moore turned around.

"Finally. Start chopping the onions. Be quick about it. Mr. Moore needs to eat before his meeting tonight." Krista went silently about her work, grabbing a rickety wooden stool to stand on so her torso was above the countertop. As she carefully chopped the pungent vegetable, Krista decided to brave a question.

"Mrs. Moore?" she asked timidly.

"What?"

"H-how come I never have adoption interviews like the other kids do?"

Andrea set down her wooden spoon and stared at her charge. She attempted a smile, her facial muscles unused to the movement. "Because, dear. You're special. It would make us so sad if you were ever to leave. Do you really want us to be sad?"

Krista looked down, the knife resting on the counter. "Of course I don't want you to be sad. I just really want a family of my own."

Without warning, Andrea's hand shot out, slapping Krista so hard across the cheek, she fell off the stool. Krista twisted her body to catch herself, landing awkwardly on her wrist. A sharp pain shot up her arm.

"How dare you! Is OUR family not good enough for you?" Krista whimpered and cradled her wrist, scooting backwards to sit against the cabinets.

"After everything we've done for you!" Andrea threw a potato at the cowering 9-year-old. Krista covered her head as her caregiver raged on.

"You should be grateful we provide you with all you have! No one would want a little runt like you. So many health problems. Always so quiet, always keep to yourself. You should be glad to have a place here!"

Krista trembled. "I'm sorry. I am grateful, I promise. I'll be good."

Mrs. Moore crouched in front of her, tenderly putting her hand on Krista's cheek. "You are precious to us. You belong here." She stood, drying her hands on the apron hanging from her waist and returning her attention to the boiling pot on the stove. "Go wash up. Dinner is almost ready."

Krista scrambled out of the kitchen and up to her room. Her wrist throbbed as she slid down to the floor, her tears fresh and hot. The conversation with Mrs. Moore had shattered the last shard of hope she had.

I'm never going to get a family.

A/N: Thanks again to StormChaser90 for his editing and writing assistance, as well as several ideas and details he lent to this chapter. Get ready – big events are about to kick off in the next chapter. Thanks for reading.