Body's coming home, check your brain at the door.

Things should have been better. Kim thought, sitting in Bueno Nacho, picking over her food. More unusually, Ron was also picking over his food, with no sign of an appetite.

"They won't tell you?"

"No." Kim said. "Dad even yelled at me when I asked." She paused, "I've never heard dad yell before." Ron nodded. It had been nearly a week, and mom was still in the hospital, her comments vague…and seemingly unaware of just how much time had passed. The cops, even those who were friendly to Kim, even those who she'd done work for in the past, were…unwilling to speak to her about it. Even GJ and the FBI hadn't said a thing.

"Kimberly, I can understand your desire to know." Dr. Director had said, "But your father has asked that some things be kept confidential until your mother is ready to decide what, if anything, is told to you, and I will respect his decision."

Kim shook her head at that. What had happened? Mom was okay, physically—at least no broken bones, or anything like that. She knew it hadn't been Shego or Drakken—they were in jail, and for that matter, why would any of the others kidnap her, and not even send a ransom demand? She shook her head.

"I…" Kim paused, "I should have done something else… I'm the girl who can do anything." Ron shook his head.

"We called in every favor we had…" Ron quietly said. "And everyone helped." Beyond any call. Ron thought. There were people he'd never heard of before, offering help, money…or just prayers.

"Well," The doctor said to James Possible, "The lab confirmed it. She has new teeth." James blinked in confusion.

"They kidnapped her to regenerate new teeth?" The doctor looked nervous and the other individual in the room, a tough looking man from an agency that officially didn't exist took over.

"No, whoever kidnapped her probably had the old teeth removed—likely with a pair of pliers." He didn't flinch. "It could have been for any number of reasons—when I was with the FBI, there were a few cases where rapists decided not to take the chance that their victims might choose to bite down." James didn't respond. There came a point where the horror just went beyond the ability to shout or scream, …or throw things.

"Then why fix it?" James asked quietly.

"Well, maybe they wanted to elimi-" The doctor started, when the individual (who had not offered his name) interrupted.

"Bullshit. There was an easy enough way to eliminate evidence, and it involved a shot to the head, some lime, and a landfill. Not only that, but rebudding teeth and force growing them—hell, that's a forty thousand dollar procedure per tooth, and there are fewer than twenty official sources for it—and we've checked them all. Thoroughly." He paused, "Whoever kidnapped your wife, Dr. Possible, was not some homeless lunatic—he has money, organization and that implies a great deal of intelligence." He sighed. "And the only thing we can say for certain is that it wasn't any of Kim's enemies."

"Thank god." James breathed. "If this had happened to her mother because of her… well it would kill Kim."

"Maybe." The individual paused, "Regardless, I intend to keep your family under observation, with a protective detail. There is something very screwy here, and I'm not certain it's over." He looked at James, "And that means Kim Possible's career is over, Doctor. We can't have her running around god knows where, potentially giving whoever kidnapped your wife a shot at her."

"I've… told her." James said. "I… asked her to stay for her mother's sake, and she agreed."

"Good. Now, Doctor, about Ms. Possible…what is her current condition."

"Ah." The doctor said. "It's…not entirely in line with typical rape or kidnapping trauma."

"What about the memory loss?"

"That happens sometimes, but there have been no nightmares, no other symptoms of traumatic memory loss." He paused, "in fact, the main unusual factor is that the loss of memory seems to be the only mental sign of trauma."

"Physically?"

"Well, beyond the teeth, she seems to be in generally good condition—over the last several days we've done some tests, and if anything, there's some indicating that she exercised, or was exercised, during her captivity. Residual bruising to-" He fell silent. Dr. Possible did not need to know the full details. "In any case, we could not find semen or other physical residue, but there is evidence to indicate that she was raped several times, possibly by more than one person."

"When can we take her home." Dr. Possible asked, quietly.

"Soon." The doctor replied. "We did a few more tests, but I don't' expect anything to show up….and taking her home might be best for her recovery." He paused, "Ann…was very well liked at this hospital, James, and if there is anything, anything at all, we can do, officially or otherwise, please, let us know." James nodded, and got up, out of the chair.

"Thank you doctor, Sir." He said, and left. The nameless individual waited until he was out of the room.

"Is it done?"

"Yes, and I would like to protest again."

"To who?" The doctor bit his tongue.

"You didn't even ask her husband for permission."

"No, I didn't. But nobody goes to this trouble for nothing. Will the tracking device work?"

"Yes…we put it in her buttock…but why there?" A short laugh answered him.

"Because the base of the neck, or the forehead is the first place someone looks—it doesn't need to be anywhere in particular, since it's just a tracker, and there is a lot of fatty tissue to hide it down there."

"Then why not deeper in the body cavity?"

"Because however smart you are, doc, someone may be smarter, and I don't want to put it in a place where they'd have to kill her to remove it."

"That's….."

"You learn many things in my career doctor—not all of them pleasant. It's all academic, anyway—the thing only squawks if we send out the signal, or if it comes in range of a repeater." The NSA agent sighed, "But if someone decides to grab her again…"

"Do you think they will?"

"I hope they will—you would not believe the way we have Middleton covered. But I don't' think so. They're not stupid… which bugs me." He paused, "Killing her was the smart thing to do…so why send her back?" he shook his head. "In any case, Doc, remember, I was never officially here, and you didn't hear a thing."

"I understand."

"Kimmiecub?" Kim looked up to see her father at the door. There was more gray then there had been a month ago in his hair, and his eyes had a terribly haunted look to them.

"Daddy?" Kim looked up at him.

"Ah…" He cleared his throat. "You mother will be coming home in a few days…" He paused, and composed himself, "But Kim… she's not yet… herself. She doesn't remember everything, and doesn't remember anything about what happened to her, so you and the twins…no questions."

"Never." Kim said, feeling her eyes tear up. The house had been so terribly empty…and now mom was coming home. It could be a home again, not a place where people just stood around, hoping against hope that the nightmare would end.

Please, please, be alright mom. Kim thought. The refusal of anyone to tell her what was going on had fueled nightmares, each one more terrible than the one before. Mom had barely spoken to her in the hospital, her eyes wandering at times, and sometimes seeming to forget who she was. But she was coming home. That would solve everything. They could make everything all right.

It waited. It had been terribly hard these last few days, outside of the presence of the perfect God who had made It. Worst of all, the unworthy slut it had once been, the disobedient, arrogant, woman who had dared mock God kept trying to rise up out of It's memories. Flashes of laughter (laughing with God's enemies) and twitches towards the call button, as if It would betray God by telling all to the nurse. But now It was going to where It needed to be. It could carry out Its mission and return to lay at the feet of God.

Or die for God.

Either one would be paradise.

TBC.