Continuing Transmission

Numbuh 5 sat next to the bed of Numbuh 1, on the edge of her seat, watching him as he slept. He seemed to stand out a great contrast to the white bed and sheets. His hard, labored breathing filled the otherwise small, quiet room.

They were in a hospital, of course. They had taken Numbuh 1 back to the tree house. But when they realized that they couldn't help him, they called his mother, who was one of the few adults they trusted, and asked of her help to admit their leader into the hospital. As concerned as any mother, she agreed.

Next to the dark girl sat Numbuh 3, and across from her, on the other side of Numbuh 1's bed was Numbuh 2, both watching their leader, sitting on the edge of their seats, worried looks set on their features.

Numbuh 4, however, was leaning back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest, at the feet of his commander's bed. He had a look on his face that suggested that he didn't look too happy. Of course, in such a depressing time, none of them were. But his facial expression wasn't like the others' troubled aspects for their fallen friend. He looked slightly angry, though the full extent of his irritation wasn't revealed in his visage.

He didn't blame the others for being worried. Deep inside, he was just as concerned as they were. After all, that was only a natural feeling after what they overheard the doctors tell Mrs. Uno.

"I'm not sure what happened to Nigel," the doctor's voice said, "but I'm not sure how to tell you this."

Behind the door, the other four Kids listened through the slight opening.

"Just tell me," they heard Mrs. Uno say, her British accent weighed down with anxiousness. "I need to know."

The doctor sighed loudly. "Well, though I'm not sure how, Nigel's body somehow seemed to absorb a large amount of electrical currents. In fact, it was, if not more than, enough to kill any one person. Usually, when enough electricity is absorbed by the human body, the normal functions fail to operate correctly.

"Luckily, Nigel's vital signs are still detectable. Weak, but detectable nonetheless.

"We'll do all we can to help him, but I'm not sure how much good we can do. With any luck, his body will react to the treatments, but it's never a guarantee. Though we can only hope for the best, I do have to give you the reality of it. The truth is, it'll be a miracle if he survives."

The Aussie could understand how they felt. It worried him too that they could be losing a loyal and dear friend that they cared for. They had all been a group as the Kids Next Door for two years, and a group of friends for even longer. It was rather frightening to think that even just one of them would be leaving sooner than anyone expected. Though there was a tiny sliver of hope, all odds were against it, as the doctor said that, statistically, Numbuh 1 wouldn't make it.

But that only angered him further, and he felt that his fellow Kids were acting in a way they shouldn't be.

He stood up abruptly, tipping over his chair as he did so. It clattered as it landed on the ground, breaking the silent tension that had been drowning and suffocating the tiny hospital room. The sudden noise caused the other three to look at their friend.

"Stop it, just stop it!" he cried, struggling to keep his voice quiet. "We can't keep doin' this!"

"Doing what?" Numbuh 2 asked. The curiosity he held was mirrored in Numbuh 3 and 5's eyes.

"This! We gotta stop mopin' around like this!"

The dark agent averted her gaze from him back to the still boy lying on the bed. "But, Numbuh 1 might…" She felt fresh tears well up in her eyes.

"He might…!" The round operative couldn't speak the last word that was on the tip of his tongue. He felt that, the more it was said, the more likely it would become.

"The doctors said that…!" Numbuh 3 began.

"Who cares what tha bloomin' doctas said!" the Tough Kid interrupted. "Look, Ah know what they said, Ah was there. But we can't stop thinkin' that Numbuh 1'll be alright!"

Six pairs of eyes were focused on him.

"Ah don't know much about medical stuff, but Ah do know what Numbuh 1 would do in times like this. 'e wouldn't give up, and 'e wouldn't stop belivin' that everythin'll be alright!

"No matta 'ow 'ard things got, Numbuh 1 neva stopped thinkin' that things'll turn around, and that we would be able to get through anthin'! Remeba! Just like when we were rebuildin' our Tree House HQ…"

After rolling up the new blueprints into a scroll shape, Numbuh 1 handed it to Numbuh 2, turning to face him and Numbuh 3. "You two know what to do," the Leader said.

Both nodded, and Numbuh 2 turned, military style, and 'marched' away, Numbuh 3 skipping along behind him.

Numbuh 1 shook his head, a smile on his lips as he watched his teammates' antics.

"Yo, Numbuh 1!" a familiar Aussie voice said. Turning around, the Brit saw Numbuh 4 slowly sauntering up to him.

"What can I do for you, Numbuh 4?"

"Ah was just thinkin' 'bout somethin'…"

"Oh? What of?"

"'Bout rebuildin' our HQ."

"I see. What about it?"

The tough agent kicked a pebble from the ground, his eyes fixated on it, before looking up at the ruins of what used to be their tree house. "Well, just look at this place…"

Numbuh 1 surveyed the remains of their beloved HQ. "I know. The Delightful Children really did a job on this place, didn't they?"

"Yeah. Makes me kinda wonda…Are we gonna be able ta fix it?"

The commander looked at the shorter boy. "What do you mean?"

"There's so much ta do 'ere. And as long as we 'ave no tree 'ouse, we're vulnerable to attacks from……well, anybody. Wouldn't it be easia if we jus' get anotha tree 'ouse?"

Numbuh 1 shook his head. "I wish it were that simple. But this is our tree house. As long as there's a chance to rebuild it, that's what we're going to do."

"But look at it, Numbuh 1!"

"I'm aware of the damages, Numbuh 4. But if we work hard, and work together, I know that we'll be able to rebuild it, and restore it to the way it was. Who knows? Maybe we'll be able to make it better than before."

Numbuh 4 looked up at the Brit. "'ow can ya stay so darn positive 'bout it? Ah mean, this whole situation is 'opeless!"

"Nothing is hopeless, Numbuh 4. Things will be alright if we believe it so."

"There ya go again! 'ow can ya be so confident that things'll turn out ok!"

The boss turned a bit, his eyes focusing on something ahead of him. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah! Ah wanna know!"

He pointed his finger straight ahead. "Tell me what you see over there."

Looking in the direction the other boy indicated, Numbuh 4 tilted his head quizzically when his sights came upon what he thought Numbuh 1 was trying to show him. "Numbuh 2, 3, and 5."

Bending down, Numbuh 1 picked up a section of what seemed to be a metallic substance, holding it out to him. "Now, what do you see here?"

Looking at the metal, Numbuh 4 tried to figure out what Numbuh 1 wanted him to see besides the metallic bit. He could only make out his reflection, staring back at him with confusion. He didn't understand what this had to do with anything. "Me?" he finally suggested.

Numbuh 1 put the piece of metal down. "Exactly," he responded. "The reason that I believe everything will turn out ok for us, is because of you and the others.

"You see, a team is only as good as their leader, and they often reflect what their leader is thinking and feeling. I do believe that we can get through this hard time, but that won't help if you all didn't think so. So I often have to voice out and remind them that, together, we'll be able to get through anything. If I don't believe that, then why should any of you believe it?

"No matter how hard things get around here, I have to believe that things will be alright, so that you and the others can believe that too. That is the only for us to do anything, and that is the only way to achieve our goals and make that much of a difference."

"Numbuh 1 always believed that things would be okay for us," Numbuh 4 continued, "and now it's our turn to do tha same for 'im!"

"Still…" Numbuh 5 said. "Numbuh 5 knows you're right, Numbuh 4, but…I still can't help but feel that this is my fault. I mean, if Numbuh 1 hadn't come back for me, he wouldn't be like this anyway."

Numbuh 4 shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, Numbuh 5. It was mine."

She looked over at him.

"If Ah hadn't a' said any of those things that Ah did, Numbuh 1 wouldn't have left in tha first place, and tha Delightful Children wouldn't have captured him. It's mah fault that we fell for their plan at all."

Silence passed over them. Words rolled in the other three Kids' minds, trying to think of a way to tell Numbuh 4 that he was wrong, and that it wasn't his fault.

Pulling her gaze away from the Aussie, the Asian girl looked at Numbuh 1, slumbering, with a somewhat peaceful look on his face, despite his shallow breathing. Reluctantly, a smile played across her lips.

"You know what I think?" she said softly.

The others turned to look at her.

"I think Numbuh 1 would say that it wasn't anyone's fault, and that he wouldn't want either one of you two to blame yourself."

And, as each of her friends thought about it, they realized that she could be, if she wasn't already, correct, and that it was indeed the wisest statement that had been said the entire time.

The door creaked open slowly, and the Kids looked up to see Mrs. Uno slip in, closing the door behind her. She let out a slightly relieved sigh, as she had seemed to be tired of filling out forms. Her auburn bangs fell over her soft golden-brown eyes. Her long hair hung on her shoulders, standing out against her blue shirt. The dark jeans she wore seemed very different than what the Kids were used to her wearing – a business suit – and they did seem slightly surprised by those and the sneakers that covered her feet.

Glancing up, her eyes rested on her son that lay in the bed. Concern and wonder seemed to inhabit her delicate orbs, as she crossed the room and place a small kiss on the forehead of her son.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

The others looked at each other, unsure of what to tell her.

Numbuh 5 finally spoke up. "He was tryin' ta help me, Mrs. Uno," she said. "I was in trouble, and he…he was jus' tryin' ta save me."

Mrs. Uno straightened, a small sigh escaping her lips. "I know Nigel takes a lot of pride in what he does," she said, "with the whole, 'Kids Next Door' thing. I usually don't mind, but I often wonder if it's worth it. I mean, is it worth letting him do this, knowing that he could get seriously hurt like this?"

"He's just doin' what a lot of adults tell us to do anyway," the Quiet One replied, "which is standin' up for what one believes in. It may not be the greatest way, or the safest, but it sure is worth it. He's riskin' himself to help othuhs. He may get hurt, but he knows it's for a good cause, and no one can do wrong there.

"Y'know, you should be proud of your son for what he does, Mrs. Uno. We sure are."

Transmission Interrupted