Chasing Phantoms

Part I: Mad World

Chapter Six: Your Courage Soon Will Follow

Special Agent Kim Possible sat idly in her desk chair, turning back and forth, trying desperately to gather her thoughts and her feelings that seemed to be running aimlessly and rampant in her head. The snow fell gently outside the window, the bitterly cold December evening chilling the department from the outside in. Cold radiated from the glass window. She stared past the pane, her eyes mesmerized by the falling flakes.

The flakes turned violent, falling quickly and dangerously cutting through the air. They swirled around, turning into a familiar strong jaw and gray army buzz cut, the figure impressive and strong. The figure reached out to her and she made to stand up, hypnotized by the face behind the cold glass.

Behind her someone softly cleared their throat. Kim startled, spinning around fully to find Valerie leaning against the low partition that designated Kim's bullpen. Kim relaxed, lowering her arm that had found its way instinctively to her sidearm. Kim lowered the weapon and gave Valerie a deeply apologetic look, knowing that she had pulled a gun on her friend. The face had disappeared and the snow was falling gently, just like it had before.

"I'm so sorry Valerie, I didn't mean to! You know that I'd never actually…" she stammered a bit, her eyes wide and pleading, trying to take back what she had just done. She couldn't help but feel guilty. "Please forgive me."

Valerie loped around the partition and sat on the corner of Kim's desk where a giant stack of files usually resided. She guessed that the agent had had a lot of time lately to finish her paperwork. Real cases were never like television shows. There was paperwork to be filled out constantly, lab results and autopsies took forever, and the cases themselves went by incredibly slowly. Facing Kim, she placed her hand on the agent's shoulder.

"You know better than that honey. Never apologize for crap like that – it'll make you soft. I would have done the same thing."

Kim's face was pained as she turned her gaze downwards.

"I can't believe that it's been so long already."

"Honey, when you get shot at for ten years of your life, you learn not to second guess yourself. You can't second guess yourself."

Valerie was sympathetic, but adamant. Kim needed to get herself together soon, or her team would crumble behind her. The red-haired agent gave her a small smile.

"I guess that I've been on edge lately – cabin fever. It's already December and we still haven't made progress on the case from August. I've been sitting around doing paperwork all month. I finished filing all my cases from the past two years, not to mention Agent Flagg's. You know as well as I do that he hasn't touched that pile since he came here seven years ago."

The strain in the older agent's voice was obvious, but to Valerie it didn't really seem appropriate that she was upset. Kim wasn't overworked; they had no leads to follow on the serial killer case, and there were no new cases. Her paperwork, and half of the department's, had been done for a while now; Daniel was out of her hair having a good old time in New York City, playing with the New York Police Department and trying to catch a drug dealer and alleged organ harvester; Tucker was under Valerie's wing for now.

Then it hit her as she looked at Kim's empty expression, the glow of the security light and the snow illuminating her face, draining it of every color but a sickly blue. I was the third of December.

"Kim…" Valerie said with a gentle tugging sympathy in her voice. She looked up to meet Valerie's light eyes with her own.

"You have to move on already. There's still an empty desk in your pen. It took you long enough to even consider hiring Fenton and Foley."

Kim looked up suddenly, her green eyes flashing dangerously.

"You think I should fill the empty desk don't you?" She stood up, her hardened frame shaking from some internal struggle. "You think that I should move on and let go?" she continued to hiss at Valerie, a deep pain in her eyes.

"Kim, it was never your fault!" Valerie replied adamantly. Kim sat back down, her emerald eyes brimming with tears that she refused to let fall. She looked absolutely heartbroken.

"Valerie, they're gone because of me. I could have stopped it. I could have been faster, I could have tried harder. He didn't deserve to die the way he did."

Her voice shook as she stared in to the darker agent's teal eyes.

"Do you really think you could have done anything Kim? You almost died yourself! Do you even know what it was like for me? I waited by your bed for days, just waiting for you to wake up from that coma. You should have permanent brain damage from the explosion, but miraculously you don't. It nearly killed me too – I was supposed to have been working that day on our case, but I called in sick. Kim, I was playing hooky! If anything, I am partially to blame."

"I think I remember the injuries rather vividly, Val. Still, none of that matters. Agent Barkin is dead. Ron is gone. I could have done something! If I had just had my knife on me like Barkin always told me to, I could have been there sooner! I could have stopped those creeps! And, if Barkin hadn't died, Ron wouldn't have changed divisions and left for damn San Francisco."

Kim's freckled face turned bitter, and Valerie knew exactly where she was going, even though she desperately hoped that Kim had let it go already.

"He didn't even tell me that he was leaving. I was still in a coma, and he decided it would be kinder to just leave – to just leave without saying goodbye, without waiting for me to wake up, without telling me why…and you're trying to tell me that this isn't my fault, Val?"

"It's not. Stoppable will come around, and if he doesn't, he isn't worth you worrying over. And no matter what, you can't forget your duty to the people, Kim. You need to replace your missing agent. Otherwise, you won't have enough manpower when you need it."

"I haven't closed a case since he died!" The red haired agent looked so forlorn and desperate. She needed someone now, more than ever. And now, more than ever, she had no one. She had no one but her former partner, who was sitting on her desk, fire in her teal eyes.

"Kim, buck up! Barkin isn't coming back for God's sake!"

The red haired agent gave Valerie a glare that almost put out the fire in her teal eyes.

"Don't belittle him. He didn't quit on us like Stoppable did, he died. He died in the line of duty, trying to protect us - his team - , our department, and our country. You can never replace him, Val; he was here for over twenty years. This place was his heart and soul, no matter where he freelanced."

The redhead was standing again, towering over the sitting agent. She pulled at her long fiery locks in anguish, staring out of the window again with an incredibly beaten and broken look in her eyes; the eyes of a soldier not quite dead, but fighting even though he knew that the battle would soon consume him.

"Find someone to fill the spot, Special Agent Possible. You don't have a choice. The director will have your ass if you don't get someone – anyone – there permanently by next fall."

The darker agent was as unyielding as the fairer one, and turned to leave her friend. There was nothing she could do to help Agent Possible right now. It was the anniversary of her mentor and team leader's death, and nothing her former CIA partner could do would change that. Kim was halfway gone.

The Special Agent sat back in her chair, facing the swirling snow. She tried to shake the image from her mind, but the face of her mentor wouldn't leave.

They had been investigating the serial murders of noted medical students across the country, all of which seemed to be linked by one thing. They had been severely disfigured at death, body parts of animals sewn into their respective places on the students' bodies. It had been a grisly case, and she, Barkin, and Ron had been working well into the night on December 3rd, one year ago. Ron had not taken kindly to the case, and refused to be shown the autopsy pictures or crime scene photos. Kim hadn't really liked the idea of it either, but she had adjusted better than Ron.

Earlier that week, she and Ron had finally stumbled upon a lead in the case that linked the murders to a researcher studying genetic engineering of animals and human mutation. The scientist was a lady named Amy Hall, and Valerie had nicknamed her DNAmy. Apparently, the woman had been suspected of animal cruelty and had a borderline personality disorder, leaving her sadistic and dependant at the same time.

That afternoon, they had finally found her location and were going to arrest her, but the team had been stopped. DNAmy had apparently left her residence without a trace, forcing the team to stay at the building trying to track her again. Valerie had left in the afternoon, complaining about the headache that all her overtime hours were apparently giving her. So, at about ten in the evening, Ron, Kim, and Barkin, their always formidable team leader were sitting in their chairs in the center of the bullpen, eating pizza in a campfire fashion.

As Kim remembered Barkin, the tears that had been welling in her eyes spilled over. Her resolve failed as the hot, salty tears ran down her face. There was no one left in the bullpen; no one left in the department to see her cry. At midnight, even the janitors on the floor had decided to go home. It was too cold anyways. As an Army Lieutenant, he had led the team valiantly with his booming voice resonating through the entire department every time he had said anything. His hair was stark white now; Kim remembered it was still brown when she first joined the FBI seven years prior.

It had been Barkin that offered her a position in the first place. Working as Valerie's field partner for the CIA, they had both been sent on a particularly risky mission. Of course, their director had known how risky the mission was, but he turned the other way when it came to the deaths of agents. To him, they were all replaceable. To him, the only thing that mattered was that the people were safe, happy, ignorant, and paying his salary. Of course, he was not an evil man. He had saved countless lives as a former police officer in small Illinois city and thousands more with the CIA. But, his mission had left Kim with a damaged wrist. For the CIA, losing absolute precision in her gun hand was all that it took for her to be cast out like a dog.

Valerie had left a year later after the director sent her on a mission that destroyed her father's business. She always told people that she wanted to work at her father's lab after college, but he had gone bankrupt too soon. Unfortunately, the bankruptcy was because the weapon was tampered with by her then-partner. The Director had thought the technology designed by Valerie's father would end up in the wrong hands and would lead to terrible consequences. She never forgave the deceptively charming man, and never passed up the chance to remind the graying man that he had lost the best weapons technician he would ever have. Again, Barkin had picked her up and put her on his team within weeks of her violently dramatic departure.

Barkin's voice had resonated the same way as they all sat around in a circle, munching on pizza – well, Kim and Barkin had been eating pizza. Ron preferred Mexican food. Ron had stood up to go to the bathroom, and left Barkin and Kim alone for a few minutes. It was near midnight, and even the janitors had gone home for the night. The sinister blue security light had flickered for a few seconds before going out completely. Kim had suddenly risen to her feet, but it was too late; the glass was shattering and a hot fire sent desks and chairs flying towards the window from the other side of the department. The loud blast sent Kim flying against the wall and she hit it with a sickening crack.

"Possible!" yelled Barkin from a few feet away.

Ever the solid figure, the blast had merely dirtied him. Kim was stuck under a filing cabinet; her pants leg caught in the melted and disfigured drawer. Her vision tuned red as blood dripped down her face, but she struggled as she saw Barkin pushing his way through the debris to free her. A sandy blond agent raced through the door, gun in hand. He was followed by three figures dressed in black, all yielding large guns.

A slighter figure caught up with him as he tripped over an upturned partition. Kim struggled more, her head on fire as she tried to free herself. She watched helplessly as the slight figure in black took the butt of her gun and clubbed Ron in the head as he was down. Her mask slipped to reveal a woman with short black hair, her eyes hazy with anger and madness as she continued to beat the unconscious agent. Kim was frozen with shock, unable to scream. He was probably dead – her best friend since, well, forever.

Barkin had immediately run to Ron's aid, but the other two figures, much larger, had jumped on him from behind. The woman distracted herself from Ron, and shot Barkin once in the side. She shot again and missed. The bullet ricocheted off of a manual copier that stood in the room for "old times' sake," and made contact with Kim's collarbone with a sickening crunch of shattering bone. She let out a strangled scream of pain, and the trio turned their attention to her. She had been hidden under the cabinet, but her position had been given away. Barkin ran towards her, trying desperately to keep the intruders from killing the incapacitated Kim.

She managed to free her sidearm with much effort and shot at one of the men. As he fell to the floor with a crunch, shattering an old desk, Kim shot again, missing Barkin by inches, but hitting the other man square in the forehead. The woman, who Kim recognized as DNAmy, ran after Barkin. She shot him twice more, once in the leg, causing him to crumble to the floor, and once in the chest. He fell like a rag doll in the ashes of the explosion, valiantly holding onto life to protect his agents. Kim abandoned all her previous struggle and in a burst of wrath dislodged the cabinet. She ran recklessly to the side of her fallen leader as the demented killer laughed, firing shots past her.

Kim swiftly executed the psychopath – one shot to the forehead, like she had done with the other two men. Barkin lay bleeding on the floor below her. The sticky pool of red soaked through her ripped and singed cargo pants as she leaned down to his side.

She lifted his large, strong head into her arms, covering the wounds with her hands. He had been shot in the right lung. Maybe – maybe he would live. Her dare of hope was ripped away as he opened his eyes to reveal bleary and fading brown eyes. He coughed gently, spurting blood over her already stained shirt. He blinked once and cleared his eyes. They were defiant again, defying death for a few more moments.

"Kimmy…" he sputtered hoarsely. She searched his face for a shred of hope, but he himself had accepted that this was the end. He was hanging onto his broken and shattered body for her.

"Kimmy… sometimes…" he coughed again, blood running freely down his cheek.

"Sometimes the hardest thing…" his voice failed for a moment and his eyes threatened to close, but he held on, "…and the right thing…"

The aging soldier closed his eyes and took in a deep, rattling breath. The fiery brown orbs opened again for a moment and he looked deep into Kim's blood-stained, but still brilliantly emerald, eyes.

"…Are the same."

His head rolled back gently in Kim's arms.

The gory scene vanished from her eyes, the peaceful snow replacing the blood, the sweat, the heat, and the ashes. She sat on the floor of the bullpen, hiding behind her desk. Her body shook violently in sobs that she couldn't hold back. From the doorway, Valerie watched silently, admiration and sorrow resurfacing in her heart. She turned away for the last time, silently making her way down the hallway.

She whispered to no one in particular, "Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same." The elevator doors opened silently, and Valerie looked back down the hall for a moment.

"I can't help you Kimmy, but I really want to. Sorry for leaving you like this."

As the elevator doors closed, a silent tear rolled down the stubborn agent's cheek.

A/N: Thank You everyone for reading. I really love this story, even though ive been getting a measly number of reviews. i have AP tests going on this week, but i updated for you guys. Please keep reading, and ALWAYS REVIEW. Laila tov my darlings, i hope you enjoy this chapter - its kind of bittersweet for me. Sam and Danny in the next few chapters. I will always update at least once a week, and i promise that this will be a long story, so stay for the ride =] I have the whole story pretty much planned from beginging to end, and even though things are sketchy, i know exactly how long it will be. The chapters will get longer as the story progresses into real time.

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