Disclaimer: Don't own Kim Possible or any other characters related to her or the series. Okie dokie guys, here's chapter 4. Again, didn't quite turn out as I'd hoped, but it'll do. I've already got plans for the sequel to this story, so yayness.
Nova-chan: Thankyou, glad you liked the fight. More to come.
Miss Piratess: Yes, I do tend to write in some awkward sentences, it's a habit of mine. But glad you like the story so far anyway!
Jezzriana 2.0: Thankyou, I'm glad you like the feel of their relationship. Also, apologies for the British expressions: being from Britain, I am not sure of all the American terms and expressions, so if you see a British term/expression, feel free to replace it with the equivelant American one when you read it. But i will try to include American ones as and when i can.
Everyone else: Many thanks for your comments.
"Ron?" Kim half screamed into her phone. She was greeted with silence, interspersed with a small tap every few seconds. She dashed out of her room, not bothering to place the cordless receiver back on its base.
Kim ran into the kitchen. Her mother looked up from the table. "Honey, what's wrong?" Mrs. Possible asked, seeing her daughter's ragged breathing and noting her eyes were sparkling with held-back tears.
"Ron's parents have been kidnapped!" Kim said frantically. "And I think he's been attacked! Mom, you've got to come with me, he might be hurt!" The red haired young woman tried desperately to hold back her sobs, fighting them down as they rose in her chest.
Mrs. Possible stood quickly, tipping over her chair as she grabbed her car keys. She called into the living room, telling her husband she was taking Kim to Ron's, and accompanied her daughter out of the front door. They both ran to the car, slamming the doors shut once they were seated. With a turn of the key in the ignition, Dr. Possible pulled out of her driveway and accelerated at an intense speed.
If this had been any other situation, Kim would have been surprised at just how fast her mother was driving, but as it was, all she could think about was Ron. Please, her mind begged, let him be alright! A solitary tear crept down her cheek, and she brushed it away quickly. She couldn't allow herself to get worked up about this: if Ron was hurt she would have to be strong for him. And if his parents were missing, he'd need her strength more than ever.
"Hold on, Kim!" Mrs. Possible said, snapping her out of her reflections. Mrs. Possible stepped hard on the brakes, the tires squealing in protest as she came to an abrupt halt in the Stoppable's driveway. Kim jerked forward in her seat as they stopped, before being thrown back into the seat. She instantly leapt for the door, wrenching at the handle and throwing the metal obstacle open. Kim sprinted out of the car as the sun dipped finally below the horizon, throwing a final blood red shimmer across a small portion of the deep blue sky.
Shoving the wood front door aside, Kim ran into the house. "Ron!" she called, looking left and right frantically. She ran into the living room, peering against the darkness to try to catch a glimpse of her blond boyfriend. "Ron!" she shouted again, praying for a reply. Seeing no sign of him in the lounge, she turned and, passing her mother who was coming through the door carrying a small black bag, ran into the kitchen. She stopped, looking at the scene that greeted her.
Two monkeys, clad in black uniforms that covered their bodies and obscured their faces, lay unconscious against a cracked cupboard door; the table in the centre of the small kitchen was overturned; jars of unidentified foodstuffs lay shattered on the floor; and one of the kitchen windows had been smashed, as though some heavy object had been hurled through it. Kim almost shrieked as she looked at the floor: blood. Please, no! Following the trail of body fluid, she caught sight of Ron, propped against the far wall, the phone hanging limply on its cord above him. Kim ran over to him, sliding to her knees as she reached him. She placed a hand on Ron's arm, watching his face with fear as she hoped he would wake up. Her heart had turned to ice as she looked at his pale face, cold fear gripping her mind and refusing to relinquish its grip.
"Mom, in here!" Kim shouted, but she hadn't needed to: her mother was behind her, crouching to look at the injured form before her. Kim tried to wake Ron, holding his limp hand and nudging him, calling his name. "Mom, he won't wake up! Why won't he wake up?" Kim said as panic settled in her stomach, a cold feeling that weighed her down like lead.
"Kim, I need light to see what's wrong. Find the fuse box and see if you can do something," Dr. Possible said. Kim dashed off to find it as her mother opened her black medical bag.
Kim found what she was looking for: a small, white box, attached to the wall in a walk-in cupboard just off the kitchen area. She opened it, and found a single, black switch in a different position from all the others: this was the main fuse, the one that controlled the entire house. It was set from 'on' to 'off.' She clicked it back to 'on.' There was an explosion of light behind her as all the lights in the house abruptly erupted with life, electricity coursing through wires in glass bulbs as their power was restored. Kim ran back out into the kitchen to find her mother holding a cloth under a tap, drenching it. Mrs. Possible wrung it out slightly, then crossed back over to Ron and placed it against his forehead. Kim was relieved to see his chest rising and falling as he breathed.
"Kim, I need your help to take off his shirt," her mother said. "I need to check his chest for injury."
Kim dropped to her knees on the opposite side of Ron. Placing a gentle hand behind his back, she pushed him very slightly away from the wall, careful not to topple him forwards. Mrs. Possible grabbed his red shirt and lifted it over his head as Kim used her free hand to guide Ron's arm out of the sleeve. Kim paled at the sight of Ron's chest, and her mother frowned. A large, purple swelling stood out in the centre of his torso, crimson streaks radiating out along the circumference of the injury. Dr. Possible took a small tube from her bag, and handed it to her daughter.
"Apply some of this to the wound," she said, "I'm going to check his pulse. Just place a small drop of that cream on your fingers and massage it gently into the chest area, it'll prevent infection and should reduce the swelling."
As Dr. Possible placed two fingers against Ron's wrist, Kim squeezed a thin strip of the clear, liquorice-scented cream onto her fingertips. Rubbing them together, she then applied her hands to Ron's chest, rubbing in small circles around the outside of the ugly swelling, slowly drawing towards the centre. She heard a slight change in the rhythm of Ron's breathing, assuming it was simply his reaction to the newly applied pressure to his wound.
"If you want to get my shirt off, just ask," said a weak voice. Kim looked up at Ron's face. His eyes were still closed, but his mouth worked as he spoke. "And that stuff's cold."
"Mom, he's awake!" Kim exclaimed.
Dr. Possible looked up from her watch, timing Ron's heartbeats. "Talk to him, dear, make sure he stays awake," she urged her daughter.
"Ron?" Kim said tentatively.
Eyelids flickered open, and brown eyes turned to regard her. "Hey, KP. What's up?"
"Oh thank God you're alright," Kim said, gripping his hand tightly in hers. "Are you alright? What happened?"
Ron's eyes, half covered by his drooping eyelids, looked deep into Kim's as he remembered. "I came home and found Monkey Fist and his ninjas waiting for me. They'd captured my parents. I fought his monkeys." Kim noted the shudder that passed through Ron's body as he recounted fighting one of his greatest fears. "He attacked me, Kim! He wanted to kill me, I mean really kill me! He was merciless; he just kept slamming my chest so hard I thought my ribs would break."
Kim shot a glance to her mother, who looked at her and shook her head. "No broken ribs, thank goodness, just that contusion. I've never seen anything like it; it swells at the centre, but just tapers off to the edges with those red streaks. They look like burst blood vessels beneath the surface of the skin. I don't understand how he did it."
"The open-palm monkey strike," Ron said.
Kim turned back to him. "The what?"
"Open-palm monkey strike: it's when you strike your opponent in one place with your open palm, focussing your energy on the heel of your hand. All the force of the strike hits a focussed spot, resulting in this," Ron supplied. "No breaking of the skin, just a terrible bruise and broken bones if you manage more than a few strikes at the same point."
"No blood?" Kim questioned. "Then what about the trail on the floor? You're not bleeding are you?" Kim's eyes filled with tears as she glanced over Ron's naked torso, searching for another wound.
"Not mine," Ron said, a tiny smile etching onto the corner of his lips. "I managed to break Fists' nose by head butting him. Then he…" Ron trailed off.
"Ron?" Kim said softly. She placed her free hand on his shoulder gently as her other squeezed his hand again.
Ron heaved a great, shuddering sigh as tears rolled down his face, curling beneath his chin and dropping onto his chest. "He took my parents." The blond haired teen broke down into huge sobs as his body shook. "I tried so hard, but I couldn't stop him, Kim! I was too weak!"
Kim pressed his head against her chest, stroking his hair and struggling not to cry herself. She comforted him as he cried, his tears of anguish echoing through the desolate house. "Ron, you can't blame yourself. You were outnumbered, and Fist is ruthless," she said, hugging him tight to her as Dr. Possible stood up and called an ambulance on her cell. "It's not your fault."
Ron heaved another great sigh as more warm tears coursed down his cheeks, splashing onto Kim's shirt. "If I'd been stronger, if I wasn't afraid of stupid monkeys…" he sobbed.
"Ron, stop it," Kim said. "Stop this, you couldn't help it!" Kim cupped his chin in one hand and turned his head upwards to face her. "You did the best you could, Ron; no one could ask more of you. Don't worry; we'll get your mom and dad back."
A small smile passed across Ron's face. He moved one arm around Kim's back, hugging her for comfort as he nestled in closer to her. "Promise?" he asked, his tone pleading.
Kim smiled back at him. "I promise."
Ron's eyes closed, and he dropped against Kim's body as the strength once more fled from him. Kim cried out to her mother in alarm. Dr. Possible crossed the room back towards her, and knelt down, placing a finger to Ron's throat gently. She then placed a hand to his forehead, and nodded absently to herself.
"Is he ok?" Kim asked, her voice filled with worry.
"He's exhausted," Mrs. Possible replied. "He must have used a lot of energy in fighting, and that injury he was given just tired him out more." She looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I think he'll be ok, given a night's rest in the hospital. The ambulance will be here in a minute."
"Mom, I want to stay with him overnight."
Mrs. Possible smiled slightly at her daughter. "I thought you would. I think that would be best: if he wakes up in the night, he'll need someone there for comfort. You can accompany him in the ambulance when he's taken, I'll go home and grab some spare clothes for you and meet you there."
"Thanks mom," Kim said gratefully, still holding Ron tightly and stroking his hair lightly. "Don't worry, Ron," she whispered to him quietly, "we'll get your parents back, I promise."