It was early afternoon. Summertime came on hot in the Idaho wilderness, like a fire pit with flames barely gone. Sweat and dust caked over Ron's skin. Thank goodness for the breeze rustling through the trees. The air smelled like trees, trees, dirt, and air--that whole wild smell so many found appealing. It wasn't bad, not really. He allowed himself a taste before shoving the 4-wheeler into the next gear. The vehicle was certainly an affront to all this nature.
But at least it made noise, and that was all he really wanted. Noise was good. Noise meant something besides birds and squirrels existed in this place.
He couldn't see any tire tracks, but the ground was so cluttered it didn't mean anything. The 4-wheeler bounced over the remains of the path. He was going too fast for reasonable safety, but he didn't care. His gaze scanned the area, looking for any sign of Kim.
Maybe he was just being paranoid. No, he hadn't seen her in half an hour. That was too long. She had been just behind him.
A flock of birds streaked over the sky. Ron bit his lip, drawing blood, and squeezed the handles harder.
"Kim!" he called once more. His throat was swollen with screams. How did he know she was around here? She was probably far ahead. He was going the wrong way and she was going to be furious. Yeah, well, he was worried and he couldn't shake the feeling.
The blast of the shotgun was deafening.
The 4-wheeler all but rolled into a stop and Ron was on the ground before that stop had even been made. Too late he thought of following the sound, but he felt a little more comfortable on his feet. And the sound was close. Up a rise in the ground.
Birds were flying from everywhere. Gunshots terrified birds.
A loose root tore the leg of his pants. He tugged himself free and kept running. Dirt, dust, rock, tree… the smell was dizzying.
"KP!" he shouted. "Where are you?" Why was he so scared? It was just some hunter after birds. He probably even brought his dog with him.
Footprints. He whirled around an oak.
Kim knelt in the grassy middle of a clearing. How cliché. Her face was a pained grimace, her hand pressed against the bloodstain growing on her thigh.
This was a really lousy shot of a hunter.
"Kim!" He ran toward her just as another gun went off. Shotgun. Then another blast, then another. Someone could really reload.
The aim was perfect. Fire after fire after fire.
Kim's head snapped back with a scream. She flopped to the ground like a rag doll. Her clothes were torn, blasted through. Ron could see snatches of blackened skin.
He didn't know if he were screaming or not.
The shots kept coming, big, clumsy, and noisy, but always with true aim.
Ron slid into the ground, arms before him ready to scoop up Kim. Shots came from multiple directions, lightening-quick and burning. Her body was oddly light as he rolled over her and pressed her into his chest.
A shot struck his shoulder. Three shots, different guns. He gasped and fell back as Kim shook with miniature explosions. No longer a rag doll but a trembling marionette.
No. It was the first word to hit his mind and he hated it. Another shot hit his leg, another his torso. All this with a couple of old shotguns. He grabbed for Kim again, scooping her into his arms. The shots kept coming. He rose to his feet. He didn't hurt; in fact, he didn't feel anything. Good enough.
He ran for the trees like they would actually provide shelter, deciding he would never laugh again at a shotgun. At least not a grouping of them.
He wasn't sure how far he ran, but at some point all energy left him. He sunk to his knees, choked for breath, and realized how much blood covered him.
Kim was still in his arms, head resting against his shoulder, eyes closed and face ghastly pale. He ran his fingers down her cheek.
The back of her head bled.
His own scream awakened him. Ron sat up in bed, suddenly desperate for the summer breeze of the dream. His dorm room was dark save for the numbers of the clock radio and the glow of his phone. Even the window revealed nothing. What, no one on campus doing a little late-night partying? That would have at least been distracting.
He grasped the air before him. Nothing but blankets and a few papers still on the bed.
Just a dream. He sucked in a lungful of air and forced himself to lie back down. The darkness was surprisingly soothing. He was in his bed, in his dorm… all was right with the world. It had been just a dream. It hadn't happened again.
But it had felt so real.
Then again that dream had always felt real, just as real as the true thing. The same horrible memory occurring over and over in the trap of sleep.
His heart rate was still something fierce.
It didn't happen again, Ron, he thought. In fact, it didn't happen at all. Kim is alive.
That didn't change the fact that it did happen. It just made the fact that it hadn't been Kim all the more miraculous. And that the last six years had been a waste of pain.
He closed his eyes and willed his heart to slow. He hadn't had that dream in three years. Three peaceful years. Of course, for the first year it had been every freaking night—even the nights he hadn't slept. He was supposed to call his dad if they ever came back, so he could worry and analyze the matter to death, but maybe that was null and void.
Kim was alive. That horrible, horrible day had meant nothing.
How exactly was he supposed to feel about that? He had never been good about sorting out lots of emotions.
If he went back to sleep, maybe the dream would come back. Even with Kim alive, he didn't want to think about that day again.
He still didn't remember how he had made it back to civilization. Forest Service or someone like that. Apparently they had found him in partial shock with his shirt torn up in efforts to staunch the bleeding. He had vague memories of the hospital, the funeral… yes, vague was certainly the word. More so he had memories of wishing they had just killed him as well.
Monique had gotten furious when he had talked like that.
Monique. He smiled. He could see her in his mind, a hyper little ball of excitement just told her best friend had not been murdered, told that Kim Possible was alive.
Kim was alive. His best friend since Pre-K. The girl whom he had spent two semesters of nothing but university trying to forget. She was back and he still had a million and one things to say to her.
He only hoped this wasn't a dream. There had been dreams of those types, the horrible ones that turned out to be completely false upon awakening. He didn't think he could deal with another one. So he let the day slide through his head, minute by minute. It took later logic to make sense out of the whole ordeal, and to that he was grateful. A good, sensible eye to the day's events. No black-outs, no weird hallucinations… yep, Kim was alive and his poor brain still had no idea what to do with that information. But he was happy. So, so happy.
But what in the world was he supposed to do now? As terrible as it sounded, he had gotten used to the idea that Kim was dead. What was going to happen now? The resurrection of Team Possible? Back to saving the world? And what about the wedding?
Holy naco. What was he supposed to say about that? Had Monique been suggesting anything about that?
He had dated Kim. He had been in love with Kim.
This was definitely awkweird.
He was madly in love with Monique.
But it was so weird to think about.
He took a deep breath and pushed the covers away. The panic of the nightmare was wearing away, but he clearly wasn't going to sleep. Heck, it was amazing he had gotten to sleep in the first place and now he was thinking about all of this…
He had projects he could work on. There were always projects. The final culmination of everything and he would finally be free of this place. He had never quite understood how he had been accepted into Upperton. One of those barely scraping by sort of things, he supposed. At least it had been something there after that awful summer, a soulless reminder in the mail of a beginning semester. It was something to do, something that didn't leave thought for anything but.
He switched on the light. Rufus stirred in his cage, but did not awake. Ron grabbed the nearest stack of blueprints and began sifting through them. Dr. Sharp wanted to see the plans before anything was built. It wasn't anything terribly fascinating, just a little robotics experiment that somehow still warranted mentors breathing down his neck.
They had never learned who had shot Kim.
All these thoughts again.
Shego had been on the scene. Apparently it was she who had called the rangers. Unlike her, but then again no one could have ever accused Shego to be lacking morals. She had been questioned, of course. It wasn't her. Wasn't even her style.
Kim had never been popular among the villains. It wasn't so crazy as to think of a villain who would want her dead. Too many, in fact. It was impossible to trace anyone. Ron had just wanted to forget about it.
He forced himself to look at the robot plans. Eh, it was good. Good enough. All it had to do was please Sharp. Sharp was eccentric enough. He remembered the man from the earlier years. He would spent entire class sessions rambling about bombs and bunkers. Some students had been convinced Sharp was a wannabe terrorist, and Ron had never quite dismissed the theory. Whatever made Dr. Sharp more interesting.
His cell phone beeped in the arrival of a text message. It was nearly 6. Who texted at that hour? Probably from his carrier. He absent-mindedly grabbed the phone.
The sender was an unknown. "Are you happy KP is back?"
He decided not to reply.
It didn't seem as if Kim would have any time to truly communicate with anyone in the near future, not properly and verbally, anyway. She was jolted out of bed by two huge bodies dropping down onto her mattress like bombs. It took her a good ten seconds to realize the bombs were her brothers.
It was hugs, kisses, and tears all over again.
They were still as identical as clones, but so grown-up! No, not quite.. they were still stuck in a lanky teenage boy phase, but they were tall and muscular and no longer the little tweebs she remembered. They were filthy—she remembered her parents saying something about a dig, but like everything else she didn't care one whit.
"We really didn't think you were dead, Kim." It didn't matter which one said it. The statement was repeated several times from both.
"I heard," she gasped. Words were finally becoming possible. "Brick Flagg said so. He said you set up everything… the blood sample."
"And we were right," said Tim.
"It kind of made everything easier," said Jim. "At least at first."
"I have never been more grateful for anything in my whole life," she murmured.
Breakfast was waffles. Neither her mother or father went to work that day. It was like being six years old all over again. She didn't want to be any older than that, not for a long, long time. Today they would talk, all of them. It would be a family and friends day. Everything would be wonderful.
Who knew how long until the media caught wind of this? She didn't want to deal with any of that. Shego had told her she would be back, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. She was supposed to contact Wade.
She cringed. She didn't want to think about this. She wanted to be at home.
Who had set her up? Who had posted that ad?
"Something wrong with the waffles, dear?" Her mom was dressed up like the traditional housewife. She probably wanted to be Mom again.
Kim shook her head. "They're delicious." Oh, how she hoped she wouldn't burst into tears.
"You want to know who supposedly shot you," Tim said.
She really loved her brothers. She managed a nod.
"We never found out," said her father. "We never knew. It was a shotgun, of all things. Impossible to trace."
Her mother plopped another stack of waffles onto a plate. "The worst part was not knowing. I don't know who's going to eat these."
Jim and Tim's hands shot into the air. "We're home, Mom."
That was it. She collapsed into her chair and began to bawl all over again.
Kim watched in fascination. She had never been given this much interaction with the guards. People talking, crying, acting like people. Paying attention to her. She began to laugh.
"Kimmie-cub?" Her father was, of course, confused.
She shrugged. They couldn't understand. "I'm sorry. I'm just… so happy!"
The doorbell rang. Kim nearly jumped from her seat. The cell had not had any doorbells.
"Kim, you all right?" Jim grabbed her hand.
Then the door opened. "Hello? Possibles family?" It was Ron, plain and clear.
"In the kitchen, Ronald!" her father called. "We have waffles!"
He appeared in the kitchen doorway and for a moment Kim was thrown off-guard until she remembered this was no longer teenage Ron. Had she really seen him last night? It still seemed like a dream. "Hi, Kim."
She swallowed her current bite of waffle and hopped to her feet. "Hi. Sorry I fell asleep last night."
"Hey, KP, you were tired!"
She gestured at the table. "Are you hungry?" Ron was always hungry. At least that was what she remembered.
"You've been eating college food," her mother said warningly. "Your mom and I are both against you doing that."
"I sometimes have access to an oven," he said with a grin. "Actually, I was just wondering if I could take Kim for a walk."
She had never been outside. Of course, outside had been the ocean. "I would love to."
The day was nice. A little overcast, maybe, but even clouds were a welcome sight. She liked the breeze most of all. "Ron, I'm really glad to see you again."
"Yeah. You had better be."
She wondered why he wasn't reaching for her hand. Good grief, was she supposed to demand that? It had been six years. But it was what she remembered. "I'm really sorry about everything."
He laughed. It was great to hear a laugh. "Kim, it was hardly your fault."
"But I didn't want everyone to think I was dead."
"What did you think we thought?"
She shrugged. She had never come up with an idea. "Well, that was an option. I was sort of hoping for a rescue… but it was really a good rescue."
He flinched. Dang. She had said the wrong thing. "I would have rescued you. But you were dead. I'm sorry I didn't know…"
"Apparently this is futile." She sighed. The houses were wonderfully familiar. She had an urge to just break into a run. Run as far and as fast as she could.
But there had never been room to run very far in that cell.
She wasn't in the cell anymore. "All I'm saying is that what happened has happened and there isn't a whole lot we can do about it."
"I guess it just hurts to think about it. Kim, I really missed you."
She smiled at him. "And I missed you, too." What was she trying to do? Reignite romance after six years?
Well, why not? She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
Maybe she could ask him to come to Wyoming with her. Team Possible all over again.
"What was it like back there, Kim?" Ron asked. "I mean, if you're okay talking about it."
That place… she shrugged. "I don't mind. It's not like I'm ever going back. It was… okay. It wasn't tiny. I had everything I needed. Books, paper… I kept a journal. The food was okay." She really did hate thinking about it. "I just felt so isolated!"
"How did you escape?"
Had she told him that yet? Would he believe it? "Shego."
He stopped walking. "You're kidding."
"No. It was Shego. She got me out."
"Why? I thought she would have been thrilled to have you behind bars."
"That's what I thought. But she needs my help."
He sighed and resumed walking. "You're going to help her?"
Another shrug. "I haven't decided yet."
"Someone breaks you out of… death, and you're not going to help?"
How could she even explain it to herself? "I'm out, aren't I? That's all that matters. And… I think I'll help her."
"What does she need you for?"
"To get her son back. Yeah, she has a son. I guess I can't let that kind of thing go on."
Ron closed his eyes. "Whoa. You're jumping far ahead of me. I'm still trying to deal with you."
She couldn't resist. She threw her arms around his neck. "It's like before, isn't it?"
He returned the hug. Wonderful. "I know. It's great."
She wanted it like it was. "If I am going to help her, I need Wade's help. I haven't seen him yet."
Ron frowned and scratched his neck. "Uh… I actually haven't been in contact with him since a little after your funeral."
Kim nearly tripped. "You haven't spoken to Wade in that long?"
"It just sort of… happened."
That wasn't supposed to happen. That wasn't supposed to change. But she only nodded. "Oh. Okay. I guess…" she put on a smile. "You know what? Let's just walk. I don't want to think about missions right now. So you're doing this mechanical engineering stuff now, huh?"
He nodded. He looked comfortable with that. "Yep. That's my life right now. I guess I'm smarter than I thought."
"Ron, you were always smart."
The next few minutes were spent in silence. She didn't mind. She liked it.
Then he spoke again. "Kim, listen… there's a reason I wanted to go on a walk with you."
"Oh?"
"It's… it's me and Monique. We're engaged. To each other."
