CHAPTER EIGHT

CLANDESTINE HELP

THREE MONTHS EARLIER,

Timmy Turner, clad in just his briefs, sat on the examination table in the "Timmy Cave." It was right after the party that celebrated how Timmy saved the universe by changing the darkness to the kindness. Everyone wanted Timmy to be medically checked. However, the boy resisted, he had never felt comfortable with doctors, no, he was TERRIFIED of doctors, but everyone insisted. He did relent however, when A.J. offered to do the medical exam. He was not afraid of A.J., and he trusted him. A.J. came in; dressed in a doctor's white coat and he had a stethoscope around his neck.

Timmy shook his head and spoke,

"Boy, A.J., you're going to play this part to the hilt."

The genius smiled, and said,

"Well, you know if I'm going to give you a medical examination, I'm going to do it right." A.J. paused. "How are you feeling? Any dizziness? Nausea? Or new pains?"

"No," said Timmy, "like I said, I feel fine. I'm not even sure this is necessary, I had the "Turbo Timmy" suit, and that protected me from any dangers."

"Feeling all right, and being all right are not always one and the same," said A.J., "Timmy you've taken a pounding over the last few days, everyone wants to be sure you're healthy." A.J. didn't add, but thought, "And I want to make sure your neural pathways and nervous system can handle the immunization against the "Forgetcin" memory wipe."

"Well,let's begin," said A.J., as he pulled out his stethoscope and laid it against Timmy's chest. "Breathe in" Pause, "Breathe out" . "Okay good, let me check your blood pressure."

And this went on for about an hour; Timmy was in good physical shape and best of all the brain and nerve scan showed that Timmy's system could indeed handle being made immune to the memory wipe. Of course, now A.J. had to come up with a plausible story to explain why Timmy was about to be injected with something.

"You're in good physical shape, buddy," said A.J., "however, I need to take a precaution and give you a shot."

Timmy's eyes widened, and he said, "A shot, why?"

"Because," said A.J., "it's to prevent damage to your nervous system." A.J. paused, "our own astronauts have to have it when they come home, plus MERF has had to use it when they've come home in their escape pod." He paused, "You don't have any nerve damage that I can see, but it has been known to develop later on."

"Uh,okay, but how big and sharp is that needle?" asked Timmy more than a little fearful.

"It's as big and sharp as any needle," A.J. said and then chuckled, "I don't believe it. The guy that sacrificed himself to the darkness and fought the Destructinator is scared of a needle."

Timmy looked at A.J. and shook his head, "Well, neither the Darkness or that psycho-robot tried to inject me with a needle."

"Come on, buddy," said A.J., "You know if I'm going to do something, It's necessary and it would be only to help you."

Timmy nodded, and said, "Yeah, I know. I can trust you. I certainly trust you more than our own doctors; they're kind of creepy."

"A lot of Dimmsdale's professionals are scary," said A.J.

Timmy looked down again, a bit sad. A.J. looked at him with concern,

"You all right, buddy?," the young African American asked.

"Yeah," said Timmy, "it's just it was pretty neat all of us working together, I mean not the part where I almost got killed, but it was quite an experience. And tomorrow no one will remember it." He paused. "And when I turn eighteen I won't remember it."

"Actually buddy," thought A.J., "that's not true; you and I will remember this for the rest of our lives."

"Don't worry about it," said A.J., "at least everyone's safe."

Timmy nodded and A.J. then commenced to give him the shot.

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Present time

A.J. was sitting at the computer screen as he thought about that moment three months ago. Again, he was cladestinely helping Timmy in this very same cave. He felt no guilt about it though. It was about time someone helped his best friend even if it was annonymous. When he had decided to make Timmy immune to the memory wipe, he did have some questions about whether it was appropriate to inject his friend with something without his knowledge. However, that soon passed when he realized that 1. Timmy wanted to retain his memories, and 2. wiping someone's memory is even more of an invasion of privacy then giving someone something to prevent it.

"Also," thought A.J., "I really don't trust that memory wipe; it's not only unreliable, it's potentially dangerous, look what it did to Denzel Crocker."

The computer beeped catching A.J.'s attention. He had tracked down where the hidden microphone in the Turner house was transmitting to. This should be also where Remy Buxaplenty was at; at least at the current moment.

He pushed a button on the computer, and a satellite map/image came up. Remy was at Mount Doomsdale. A.J. shook his head, and stated,

"He's on Mount Doomsdale planning my friend's doom. Geesh, how CLICHED can you get?"

Okay, that flashback may have been an odd thing to begin this chapter with, but I had two reasons; I was pretty vague in the last story about it, so I wanted to clear that up; two, I thought it would be a nice way to show A.J.'s determination to help his best friend no matter what.