Author's Note: This chapter is best read on AO3. There's a map puzzle in this one that's easier to visualize with some images I put together. Feel free to just stick to this site though! No big.
Green flames rise off the body, scorching the remains. Flesh and bone blacken into charcoal, feeding and fueling the emerald blaze. The body rests peacefully in the dark, silhouetted by its own blackened form.
The bonfire only has eyes for the body; it does not catch on the corpse's bedsheets. Embers spit off the inferno, elegantly gliding down to hardwood floors, promptly fading away into soot. It's controlled destruction.
?: Off the Coast of Spain
August 18th: 11:45PM
Shego stands over the body, breathing heavily, her world spinning. Light catches on her ghostly white skin, illuminating the heartbreak in her dark gaze. She backs away skittishly, tripping against the back of a chair. Her flaming hand brushes against a tablecloth, accidentally setting it aflame. Panic spasms through her body, and she crushes out the green spark with her gloved hand. She steps back towards the window and silently boosts it up. Hoists her legs onto the window sill. Turns towards the cold, starry night, hair blowing in the gentle breeze.
It's a long drop. She takes a deep breath.
A voice calls out. "Father? I think I smell smoke. I'm just going to—"
She grits her teeth and takes the dive—
—just as the son's shadow creeps into the master bedroom.
She lands in the wet sand on all fours. The dark tide rolls in and out, and the son's blood curdling scream splits the air.
The funeral procession is long, long enough to bypass certain social barriers. Kim and Ron slowly trudge along, getting closer and closer to the burial site. Kim in particular feels acutely aggravated. She casts furtive glances at Ron, missing the moments when he casts similar looks at her. She goes to him to complain, but thinks better of it every time.
They both wear all-black. Kim in particular wears a black suit and tie she recently purchased for herself as a treat. It's remarkably similar to the Big "Big" Daddy outfit she put together for the simulation she ran with Ron, fiery red blouse and all. To her, the suit makes her feel powerful. It's a conscious choice she makes, one that's different enough to make it seem like she's in control of her life. One that makes it seem like she knows who she is.
Cementerio de la Almudena : Madrid, Spain
August 21st: 11:44AM
Our Lady of Almudena Cemetery is one of the most occupied graveyards in the world, housing at least five million bodies. Designed with symmetry in mind, brick walls divide the densely packed gravestones. The mourners slowly make their way down a narrow stone walkway, occasionally taking a few steps upwards to reach the next section.
Familiar faces abound, it's a Who's Who of supervillainy and entrepreneurs. Just from where Kim stands, she sees Professor Dementor, Martin Smarty, and Duff Killigan ahead of her. She occasionally chances a look backwards, but tries to keep her eyes focused ahead. The long walk to pay their respects is more than her patience can handle, and the last thing she wants is to get roped into a conversation with… yes, that's definitely Doctor Director several people down from her. No thank you.
It's been nearly three weeks since her fight with Ron in the simulation room, leaving her with little more than a week before her apparent trial, at least according to the DAL. Not much has changed. It's the same tension, the same numbness.
Eventually, Kim sneaks a glance at Ron the same time that he looks at her. She blushes at the sudden eye contact and turns away. He smiles weakly, his hand briefly brushing against hers before escaping back into his pocket. He turns away and looks at the sky, maybe to make her feel more at ease.
"You know what Ned told me?" Ron asks her with the hint of a smile.
Having no choice other than gnawing boredom, Kim finds some vague interest in this.
"From Bueno Nacho?" she asks.
"The same," Ron says.
"Wait… you went to Bueno Nacho before this?"
"Huh? No, Ned's, uh—here. He's a little ahead of us. Between Gemini and Hego."
Kim furrows her brow. "Ned is friends with the Seniors?"
Ron laughs weakly. "Ned knows everybody, KP."
He checks her for a reaction; she remains unconvinced.
He continues, playfully nudging Kim in the ribs. "Everyone eats at Bueno Nacho! It's all-inclusive!"
Kim's expression softens. "So what did Ned tell you?"
Ron brightens up, already having forgotten that part of the story. "Right! Ned told me the next Head of the Family isn't Junior."
"No!" Kim gasps playfully. "Don't tell me, it's—"
"It's Bonnie," Ron whispers, delighted to know the gossip."Honestly? I love Junior. His whole thing is great, but I think it's the right call. I mean Bonnie is evil. She was bound to become a supervillain, ya know?"
Kim considers this. "Mm. She has no honor though, and that's big in this family. We'll see how it goes. I hope they're not offended that we showed up."
Ron raises an eyebrow. "You're saying this to the guy who created Señor Senior Sr. Besides, he was all about having respect for your adversaries. I think you being here is what he would've wanted."
Kim smiles weakly at Ron. Struggles with something to say, looking away once it gets awkward. A slightly disappointed Ron turns away too, the duo falling back into silence.
Kim bites her lip and looks at Ron. Turns away—but not before Ron notices her.
"What?" he says with a knowing look.
She sighs, gesturing at herself. "The suit's not too much, is it?"
Ron smiles. "Kim, you look great. I mean, I'm not picking out curtains with you or nothin'."
Kim snorts and punches Ron in the arm. "Ha ha ," she laughs dryly.
"What?" Ron massages his arm, snarking, "Too soon?"
She loops some hair behind her ear, blushing faintly. "I was actually thinking about wearing this suit for missions maybe."
Ron raises an eyebrow. "No more crop top?"
"No more crop top."
Ron sighs wistfully, "Everyone's wearing a suit nowadays… Drakken has a suit, Shego has a suit—"
Kim blushes and unfortunately, Ron notices.
He raises an eyebrow. "Wait. You're not wearing a suit because Shego wears a suit now, right?"
"Um… heh," Kim chuckles nervously. "I just thought she looked good."
Ron stares at her, astonished. "Wow. Uh, should I be worried about you and her?"
She flashes him a dirty look, and Ron's face falls.
He droops over himself. "Sorry. I guess I'm still getting used to the whole, uh—" He coughs abruptly into his fist. "—breakup—" Another cough. "—thing. I mean, we were together for a year. And this, uh—" He waves between the two of them, miming a connection. "—this is nice."
For a moment, Kim finds herself in agreement, but then she remembers the mission. "A year's not that long," she says in a prickly tone.
Ron hesitates, noticing her sudden change in emotion. He would call it out, but he knows she would just double down. He would get angry, and they would argue. It's pointless.
"Yeah, I guess," he sighs, taking a few steps forward in line. "I don't know though… looking back on it, it kinda felt like we've been in a relationship this whole time. Y'know, we were there for each other. Things were open and…"
Kim frowns and finds sudden interest in the ground at her feet.
"I'm sorry," Ron shuts himself up. "I'm making you uncomfortable. Forget I said anything."
She nods meekly.
They walk in silence a little longer. Once Professor Dementor steps away, it'll be their turn to pay respects. Ron's mind works furiously, planning exactly what it is he wants to say. For weeks, she's been giving him the cold shoulder, turning him down at every turn. But today, at a cemetery of all places, there's chemistry. He wants to seize that. They don't need to get back together again, but he'd at least like to be her friend.
Ron looks at Kim. "Hey, um, I hate to put you on the spot, but…"
Kim turns to Ron curiously, and he bites his lip, intimidated by her gaze.
Nervously, he continues. "When we were fighting a few weeks back… you said you loved me with all your heart."
Kim winces and turns away.
That is an answer unto itself, but he can't help himself. He needs to hear her say the words, otherwise he'll always wonder.
"Did you mean it?" he asks in a small voice.
Kim stares at him, her face twitching into something resembling ambivalence. It's a strange look on her face, one that he suspects isn't real.
Professor Dementor finishes paying his respects and steps away.
She sighs. "C'mon," she whispers. "It's our turn."
Ron nods weakly and tries to swallow his feelings away like Kim often does. He fails though and decides to linger behind Kim while she speaks for the two of them.
As expected, Señor Senior Sr.'s tombstone is large and expensive. It's arranged as a shrine to the old man, taking up the width of three regular tombstones. The text reads:
SEÑOR SENIOR SR.
FATHER, VILLAINOUS VILLAIN, PRO-ATHLETE, AND HUMANITARIAN.
Some scaffolding is arranged to give some shade to the family, that being Bonnie Rockwaller and Señior Senior Jr.
Bonnie is a brunette with shoulder-length hair, immaculately layered and styled for the occasion. Her lip is perpetually curled into a sneer. Kim expected Bonnie to be outfitted in an extravagant funeral gown and veil, but instead the girl is in a pinstripe suit with a wide-brimmed hat. Her stilettos boost her several inches over Kim.
Her boyfriend (husband?), Señor Senior Jr., weeps loudly beside her. He is a man with the physique of an inverted triangle. Rippling with muscles, his supermodel-esque waist somehow manages to balance his hulking form.
Curiously, the casket is closed. Kim is thankful for that. Despite all her time in the field, she's still never seen a dead body.
Kim approaches Bonnie, Ron remaining in Kim's shadow.
Never having attended a funeral, Kim goes through the motions, saying what she believes she's expected to say. "We're sorry for your—"
Bonnie daintily offers her hand to Kim, poising it for a kiss.
"—loss," Kim finishes, a little put-off by the gesture. Nevertheless, she leans in and kisses Bonnie's knuckle.
Bonnie smirks. "K."
Kim looks up at her. "B."
Bonnie hesitates. "Can you two stay behind? Junior and I would like to talk to you."
Kim and Ron exchange a questioning look.
Bonnie smiles weakly. "It's family affairs."
Flames flicker in the fireplace. Señor Senior Sr.'s study is quaint. Bookcases line the walls. Glass cases are spread throughout the room. Antiques from the age of superheroes sit on stone pedestals. Freeze rays, domino masks, and the like.
Bonnie sits on Junior's lap, the two taking up a cozy looking armchair. Meanwhile, Kim and Ron sit on opposite ends of a lounge seat. Only Bonnie seems to pick up on the separation.
Kim breaks the ice. "So?"
Bonnie rests her hand on Junior's. "Junior's father didn't pass away in his sleep like we've been telling people. He was murdered. Burned alive."
Kim's eyebrows shoot upwards. Just like the Bermuda Triangle caper, Kim is once again confronted with evidence that leads back to Shego… but murder? Kim can't imagine it. Can't even fathom it. Shego's a jewel thief, not a killer.
"I smelled smoke and came into his room," Junior explains tearfully. "Father was lit ablaze! That's why the casket was closed, there's, er, not much left of him."
Kim fidgets in place, casting a nervous glance towards Ron. Ever since Lowardia, everything in their lives has become corrupted. Now there's this: the inevitability of death. Violent lives end violently, hardly anyone gets to make it out unscathed. For one to become a hero, one makes many enemies, and consequently, for one to become a villain, one makes many more. It makes Kim wonder what her future holds, and how much future she actually has left to enjoy.
Her mind drifts back to the case. This is what Kim Possible does: She makes it right, she delivers justice.
She leans into her knees, hands clasped together. "So you came in just after the killer left?"
"We're not sure," Bonnie says. "It was strange. The fire didn't catch on the bed or anything, it only burnt the body. Took forever to put it out."
Kim frowns. If Shego left the fire in such a controlled state, that means it was likely a sign. A clue. Shego wants to get caught, or at least, she's using her fire as a calling card. That implies that Señor Senior Sr. isn't the end of this. More people are going to die, and it's Kim Possible's duty to stop those deaths from happening.
But Kim, just Kim, has a different duty: Save Shego. From herself.
Shego saved Kim after all. She gave Kim the disc and taught Kim that there's no way out but to go rogue.
Needing to continue the interrogation, Kim asks, "Why are you keeping this a secret?"
"It was a dishonorable death," Junior sniffs. "Father had always hoped this death would be a glorious one! He hoped to pass on amidst one of his villainous schemes… or even, getting hoisted by his own petard!"
Kim frowns, shuffling about nervously, unable to find a comfortable position.
"I know what you're thinking," Kim says. "But it's not her."
"The fire was green, Kim," Bonnie challenges.
Dammit.
"It's not Shego's M.O." Kim comes at this aggressively, enough to earn her an odd look from Ron. "She's a jewel thief, not an assassin. I know there were tensions between her and your, uh—"
Bonnie sticks her chin in the air. "He's my father-in-law. Junior and I were wed a few weeks ago."
Ron frowns. "You didn't invite us? I'm great at weddings—"
"Ron," Kim groans, nudging him in the ribs.
"Sorry," Ron says. "Time and place, right."
Kim shakes her head. "Why would Shego do this?"
Bonnie shrugs carelessly. "Who knows, but Shego knew the island's security set-up. Hell, she helped design some of it back when she was working with Junior. There's no doubt in our mind."
Kim nervously clenches her jaw. "Why come to us?"
Bonnie leans back against Junior's wide chest, petting his hand. "Well, you two have always been the best at dealing with Shego."
Kim squeezes her palms, thinking. She bounces her foot up and down, trying to work her brain hard enough to outthink this one, but it all seems so cut-and-dry.
Ron leans forward. "Well, I hate to say it, BonBon, but Kim and I can't help you. We're explicitly forbidden from taking on any freelance work while under contract with Global Justice."
Kim sideeyes Ron, a little peeved at his interruption. "Ron, they're our friends."
"Uh, yeah?" Ron raises an eyebrow. "But don't you think, with your, uh… legal trouble that it might be a good idea to not—"
Kim turns away from Ron, speaking as if he hadn't said anything. "What's in it for us?"
Ron slaps his forehead.
Bonnie flashes her teeth. "Bring Shego to us alive, and we'll pay you one hundred grand."
Kim's eyes widen. There's that number again: One hundred thousand. It's the same deal Hank Perkins tried to cut with her back at the Bermuda Triangle. It's a delicious number. That's the kind of money that can make all her problems go away.
It feels like a sign.
But to betray Shego?
On that same token, didn't Shego betray Kim by turning back to villainy?
It's all so messy and confusing. Kim stews in it for several seconds, then forces herself to get to her feet. She extends a hand to Bonnie so that they can shake on it—but that gesture alone sends guilt cascading through Kim's body. She feels dirty.
Bonnie rises to her feet, ready to take Kim's hand, when suddenly Kim drops her hand down to her thigh. Bonnie frowns, confused.
A few tense seconds pass by, and all they can hear is the flickering flames in the fireplace.
Kim grits her teeth.
"I'm sorry," she says. "You're going to have to find someone else."
"Hi," Kim says stiffly, shrouded in a beige trench coat and fedora complete with sunglasses. "I'm here to see Big Daddy Brotherson."
The Bermuda Triangle: New York, New York
August 21st: 9:02PM
The bouncer leers at her suspiciously. Bald with a handlebar mustache, dressed in a leather trench coat, he is none other than Rhino, the bouncer from the recently burned down Bermuda Triangle.
His big meaty hand lashes out and snatches the fedora from Kim's head. She yelps and jumps upwards to snatch it back, only for Rhino's other hand to swipe off her sunglasses. She drops back to the ground and droops over herself, defeated.
Rhino stares at her, blinking slowly, dim with recognition. An anxious sweat comes over him, the perspiration dripping down the side of his head. He drifts away into the space between spaces, having what is almost certainly an anxiety-ridden freakout at the sight of a celebrity.
Kim raises an eyebrow. "Okay, yeah, fine. I'm Kim Possible. What of it?"
Rhino frowns, leans backwards, and peels back the turquoise curtain. He whispers loudly. "Guys, I think this dame is Kim Possible. You want me to get you an autograph?"
Kim blinks. "I literally just said I was Kim Possi—"
Two men in gray trench coats and fedoras storm through the curtain, both of them raising a revolver to Kim's head. She groans loudly and puts her hands in the air.
One goon has a round nose and a thick, ginger beard. When he speaks, it's with the rasp of a chain smoker who's gone in far too deep. His name is Mugsy.
"You da palooka that burnt down our last joint?" he growls. "I had a good commute coming in and outta that place!"
The other goon has a snout-like nose with beady eyes. When he speaks, it's in a Brooklyn-accent pumped up to eleven. His name is Vinny.
He sneers at Kim. "They don't put cherries on the whiskey sours at this one, it's fackin' ridiculous!"
Mugsy grabs Kim by the back of her trench coat and drags her to Big Daddy's office. Moments later, he whips her against the floor. She falls to her knees, hands still raised in the air.
Big Daddy Brotherson looks at Kim from his beanbag chair. Meanwhile, Hank Perkins scratches his chin, eyeballing a map of the world.
"Mugsy. Vinny. Be kinder to our guest," Big Daddy sighs, swatting at the air with disgust, signaling for the two goons to amscray. Hank twists around to look at Kim, groaning at the sight of her.
Kim gets to her feet and jerks herself away from the goons, flashing them a smug look. She brushes herself off, daintily removing the silly trench coat, revealing her black suit from the funeral.
"We'll get you for dis," Mugsy mutters, escaping behind the bead curtain.
"You ruined us, ya dunce," Vinny growls, tailing behind his mook brethren.
Big Daddy leers at Kim greedily. "So how's your moral compass been feeling lately, Agent Possible?"
"I'm not here to work for you," Kim says. "Whatever it is you guys even do, I don't have it in me."
Hank raises an eyebrow, looking from Kim to Big Daddy rapidly.
"That's a shame," Big Daddy grumbles. "You used up your one and only favor, that being saving the world on more than one occasion. Any more information from us will cost you. Handsomely."
"I'm sorry," Hank says. "Am I missing something here?"
"Agent Possible has a desire to Disappear," Big Daddy explains. "I gave her our usual contact, but of course it's not necessarily easy to come up with one hundred thousand dollars legitimately."
"You want to go off-the-grid?" Hank says with some excitement. "My, my. I'm impressed, Possible. And here I thought you were a little goody two shoes."
Kim finds it hard to make eye contact with either of them. "I'm here for something else. I want to know where Shego is… and I have a feeling you two know."
Hank glances back at the map. "Speak of the Devil, eh Big Daddy?"
Big Daddy chuckles. "We were just discussing her. What do you have to exchange?"
"This." Kim pulls out the DAL disc. She extends her hand to the two baddies, the disc pinched between two fingers.
"It's a list of every single agent Global Justice has ever disavowed," Kim explains. "Including myself. Though of course, I only know I've been disavowed because I read the disc."
For a moment, both Big Daddy's and Hank's faces soften.
"How long do you have?" Big Daddy asks softly.
"A little more than a week," she says.
Big Daddy frowns. "Then perhaps it's in your best interest, Agent Possible, that you audition for us."
Her lip quivers. "You don't understand… I want out . Now can we please just focus on what I'm here for? If my hunch is right about what the Bermuda Triangle really does… then I believe I can entrust this with you."
Big Daddy arches an eyebrow. "Someone in your position might find it handy to hold onto something like that."
"I've memorized the profiles of the people I'm interested in," Kim says tonelessly. "If it ever comes to that."
Silence lingers between the two parties, and Kim cracks a grin. "Well?" she says.
Big Daddy nods to Hank, and the Big Time Villainy Consultant strides forward to take the disc from Kim. Meanwhile, Big Daddy gets up and walks over to the world map.
"Last week, the CEO of a global oil company, Ethan Boggs, was found dead on a business trip he made to Haiti," he explains, taking a moment to circle the murder site on his map. "Burnt alive in fact. When the maid entered their hotel room, she claimed that his body was lit up in a green bonfire."
Kim narrows her eyes. "Why didn't this hit the news?"
"We didn't let it get that far," Hank says, plucking the disc from Kim's hand. He returns to Big Daddy. "Two days later, Republican US Senator, Randall Holmes, was found at his vacation home in Brazil. Same story. Found dead in green flames."
Big Daddy draws a circle over central Brazil.
Kim gulps. Next, they'll tell her about Señor Senior Sr.
"Finally," Big Daddy says. "A child sex trafficking ring in Morocco was torched."
Right, Kim thinks. Bonnie and Junior didn't tell anyone about what happened to ol' Triple S. They chose to keep it a secret.
Big Daddy continues, "The facility was completely burnt to the ground in an emerald blaze. The orchestrators of this organization could only be identified through their dental records."
Kim crosses her arms at her chest and stares at the map.
"Now," Hank says, snatching the sharpie from Big Daddy. He drags the tip across the map, drawing lines between each of the circles. "I'm sure you've noticed already, but these killings make a triangle."
"Any three points on a map will make a triangle," Kim observes.
"You're being picky, Possible, it's a good triangle!" Hank snips. "It is our belief that Shego was auditioning for us, the Bermuda Triangle. However…"
"...she hasn't come in," Big Daddy finishes. "The arson in Morocco was five days ago. We were under the assumption that perhaps Global Justice was attempting to thwart her, but given your presence, that doesn't seem to be the case."
Suddenly, something dawns on Kim. She tries to keep her cool. "Well, I am just an intern."
She draws it in her mind. Señor Senior Sr.'s island is off the coast of Spain. If one were to add that to the map… the triangle would become a…
…misshapen quadrilateral? The sides are too uneven; it's not even a proper parallelogram!
Which doesn't jive with Shego's style…
…Unless…
Unless Shego's job isn't done, and this is all just part of an even bigger scheme.
Kim hesitates. "I need you to ask you something."
Hank turns towards her. "Yes?"
Kim's lip quivers, biting back the question for a moment. But only for a moment.
"What makes you different from Global Justice?"
"Ah," Hank says dryly. "You still think we're terrorists."
Kim opens her mouth to say Yes , but something tells her not to. Something tells her that this is so much more complicated than she understands. More complicated than she wants to ever understand.
"I read the DAL," Kim explains. "Global Justice tried to assassinate a lot of good people, like the Chancellor of Austria."
"Ah, you read about that," Big Daddy says, retreating to his beanbag chair. "Global Justice was attempting to instigate a coup, a coup which they could control, giving them power over the nation. Eventually, they succeeded."
Kim bites her lip. "Killing people is wrong."
Big Daddy shrugs. "Perhaps."
Kim narrows her eyes. "Killing senators is wrong."
"Senator Randall Holmes was a member of the Nazi Party," Hank explains. "He spoke at their rallies, supported Proud Boys, and called for the extermination of all Others of society. Queers, black people, Muslims, you name it. His rhetoric was dangerous. It hurt people. Killed people even. The man is better off dead."
Kim hesitates. "Okay, but what about the oil executive? Ethan Boggs you said?"
Hank smiles with some understanding. "His corporation has been poisoning the planet for decades. Perhaps the impact of climate change isn't obvious to some, but it will be in the next few years. And guess what? Thousands if not millions will die."
Kim clenches her fists. "Killing the CEO doesn't destroy the company though, it just kills the CEO. Someone else will take his place and do the same. What are you going to do then? Kill the CEO?"
Hank shrugs playfully.
Kim grits her teeth. "Why are you being so glib about this? I mean, wouldn't it be better to just dismantle the entire corporation?"
Big Daddy's points at Kim with excitement, his voice maintaining its neutral droning tone. "That's the kind of thinking we're looking for."
Kim blinks. "Wait. No. No! I didn't mean it like that, I just…"
"Possible," Hank says to get her attention. "I hate to tell you this, but you work for the bad guys. Global Justice isn't saving society, it's upholding the status quo. The Bermuda Triangle on the other hand is here to give power back to the people. And I think you should seriously consider taking Big Daddy's offer to audition."
"I can't…" Kim pants. "I can't kill people."
Hank nods with this gentle understanding. "I don't think you have a choice. You said you had a little over a week left, right? They're going to hit you with a life sentence. For all you know, you might be seeing solitary confinement. You may never see daylight again."
Kim blinks back tears. She tries to stow them away, ashamed of her unstable emotions, but she can't help herself. It hurts too bad.
"If not today," Big Daddy interrupts, and both parties look at him. "Perhaps tomorrow."
Kim furrows her brow, confused.
Big Daddy continues, "At some point in your life, something terrible will happen to you. Something unjust and evil. It will radicalize you. Let it be this. Let what Global Justice is doing to you be that moment."
Cold dread ensnares Kim's heart, holding it tight.
She rasps, "I can't."
Kim lays in her bed for hours, unable to sleep. Tossing and turning, occasionally flipping her pillow to the cold side. She tries sleeping with her blankets. Without blankets. On top of her blankets. Cuddling with her blankets. Cuddling with Pandaroo. She tries everything. But she can't stop thinking about her.
How must it feel to take a life?
The Possible Residence: Lowerton, Colorado
August 21st: 11:20PM
Kim sort of knows. She shot Drakken through the eye after all, she tried to kill him. She didn't hesitate, nor did she even consider the notion. She just knew that she had a gun, and that she made a decision to hurt someone really badly with it.
Drakken could be dead for all she knows. Neither Wade nor Global Justice has been able to put a pin on the Bad Doctor, which is odd for a villain as high profile as him. Some nights, Kim looks for signs of Drakken herself. But there's nothing.
She doesn't regret shooting him, yet simultaneously, she hopes he survived. At first, she thought it was because she truly believed killing is wrong.
It's not that.
She wants him to live with what he did to her, and consequently, what she did to him in return.
But that's just one life. Shego has taken many. To have gone from supervillain to serial killer in the short timespan of three weeks…
…Unknowingly, Kim drifts off to sleep. Her body forces her to rest after hours of waiting, and yet her sleep only lasts so long.
She snaps awake at two thirty AM. Every night, she snaps awake at two thirty AM. She doesn't know why.
By now, it's routine. It usually takes two more hours of waiting for her to properly fall asleep. Rather than go through the motions, she sets herself to work. She wants to know if Big Daddy was telling her straight about the Senator.
She reads about the deceased Randall Holmes until sunrise. Though she doesn't understand how the Bermuda Triangle was able to cover up the Senator's cause of death, she understands why they did it. Holmes spoke of genocide often. He called for the eradication of trans people from society, he wanted black people to "go back to their home country."
If the alt-right knew that Randall Holmes was murdered in a politically motivated killing, there would be an uprising. Minorities would die, the genocide would continue.
Shego should have been more careful.
The next night, Kim tells herself she can't spend so much time thinking about Shego. Tomorrow, she has a big mission with Ron. Frugal Lucre is going to make an attempt on Martin Smarty's life. Apparently, it involves shooting a missile into Smarty Mart HQ during their quarterly Board of Directors meeting. It doesn't worry Kim, she's sure they'll be able to handle it… as long as she can…
…as long as she can…
…get some sleep…
Kim dreams of green skies. She dreams of Drakken's fractured skull cackling at her, blood dripping from his eye socket. His jaw slinks up and down, over and over, taunting her.
She wakes up in a cold sweat. She's had this dream before, she realizes. She's had this dream many times.
She needs it to be over.
She lays on her bed, arms crossed underneath her neck, and stares at the ceiling, wondering. Has Shego always been this political? Did Drakken tell her to do this?
Or has Shego become a contract killer?
Things start to line up in Kim's mind. Shego is on a rampage, she's killing people rapidly. That can't be to her advantage. It must take a lot of time and coordination to plot out a successful hit job. Yet Shego has decided to make this into a blitzkrieg.
Is it possible Shego's like Kim? Does she also want to Disappear?
Maybe Shego wants to wash herself of the bloodshed as soon as possible. She'll accumulate her fortune quickly, then promptly Disappear into the night with nary a trace.
However, what's done cannot be undone. The old man still burns, so to speak.
On her third sleepless night, Kim stares into the mirror for ten minutes without noticing. Her skin has paled considerably, and dark rings lay underneath her dimmed eyes, the pink flesh more pronounced than ever. She feels lightheaded. Dizzy.
She collapses into her bed, curling into a ball, pulling Pandaroo close to her chest. Embarrassed by her need for a stuffed animal, something about giving herself over to a simpler time relaxes her.
"Please let me sleep," she chants. "Please let me sleep. Please let me sleep. Please let me—"
She stares at the clock, and it reads the same time it always does when this happens. Two thirty. Except this time, Kim doesn't remember sleeping. She doesn't remember anything beyond the mission.
She gets angry. Finds scrap paper, uses pictures on her phone for reference, and draws the world. All seven continents. Next, she circles the murder sites she knows about: Haiti, Brazil, Morocco, and Senior's Island. She goes at it for two hours, sketching out possible triangles, only to promptly erase them.
There's too many possibilities. It's impossible.
It's when she refills her bedside glass of water in the sink that she realizes it: Shego's path has been linear. First Haiti, then Brazil, and so-on and so-forth. At first, Kim thought this had to do with the practicality of traveling around the world undetected, but no! It's much more complicated than that.
In Haiti, Shego killed an oil executive. It was a simple job. All she needed was the address of where the man was staying.
Brazil was much more complicated. Randall Holmes was an extremely popular candidate among the Alt-Right. He very likely had an entourage of bodyguards tailing him wherever he went. After all, Shego couldn't have possibly been the first person to try to kill him.
Morocco was an even more difficult job. Shego decimated an entire compound; she burnt the whole damned thing to the ground, and murdered all of the orchestrators. Who knows how many people she killed?
Shego must have been scared. She carved this path because it's the one that would teach her best how to kill somebody. Meaning, she must be building up to something. Her last hit will make history.
Kim stares at the map for a half hour, thinking. And then she notices it. When she follows the line from Brazil to Haiti, it goes straight to Washington DC, home of the world's most high profile scumbags… at least from Shego's perspective.
That can't be a coincidence.
Kim stares at the map, and she sees the complete triangle. Connecting DC to Senior's Island, intersecting it with the line from Brazil to Morocco… Paris.
If it hasn't already happened, Shego's going to kill someone in Paris. Who exactly she's killing, Kim has no earthly idea. But at least this narrows her scope, she knows exactly where to go—
—is Kim going to Paris?
Is that why she was trying to crack this?
Is she going to Paris to help Shego or save her?
She needs sleep. Obviously she's going to Paris to save Shego from herself. It's only fair. After what Shego did for her, Kim owes her.
Paris.
Tomorrow, Kim needs to get to Paris. Undetected. Wade can't know. Global Justice can't know.
Ron can't know.
But she can do this.
She can do anything.
Evidently, Kim Possible can't do anything. Ron would know, he's been watching her training session from the screen in Doctor Director's Upperton office for several minutes now. Betty's been making Ron wait for her to finish some paperwork. During this time, Kim has been running drills. It's a basic search-and-seize caper, adorned with a simulated mob hideout. She stumbles about, barely conscious, falling for every trick in the book.
Kim hasn't been sleeping, and it worries Ron. But every time he brings up the dark rings under her eyes, she snaps at him.
Betty looks up finally. "The misconduct case must be killing her, eh?"
Global Justice HQ: Upperton, Colorado
August 24th: 2:40PM
Ron winces, not wanting to take the bait.
Betty narrows her eye, waiting for Ron to respond.
"Yeah, it's, uh, pretty stressful what you're doing to her, haha," Ron says with restraint.
Betty smirks. "So… you wanted to talk? My assistant tells me your email was titled Healthcare ."
Ron stares at her for a beat too long. He promptly realizes neither Betty nor her assistant read his email, and he launches into the explanation.
"Rufus is really sick because of one of our missions. He can't play like he used to, he's paler than a ghost, and uh…" Betty's penetrating gaze forces Ron to turn away. "...seeing how KP and I are working for free here, we were hoping GJ could, uh…" His voice cracks. "...foot the bill?"
Betty clasps her hands together and leans into her elbows. "Your naked mole rat got sick during the unsanctioned mission you went on?"
Ron stammers, "Well, uh—"
Betty interrupts him. "And now you want us to cover his treatment, treatment that he needs because you decided to burn the Bermuda Triangle down to the ground?"
"It was an accident—"
"Are you being serious with me, Stoppable?" Betty says tonelessly.
Ron massages the back of his neck, inching his way backwards towards the door. "Y'know what, you're right, I'll just show myself out."
"I think that's best," Betty says.
Ron tries to laugh it off and turns to face the door. Extends his hand towards the handle. Stops himself. Lets his arm fall slack. Bows his head.
"It's not her fault, y'know," he says softly.
Betty doesn't bother looking up from her paperwork when she replies, "Yes. It is."
Ron turns around. "She's giving me her best. She's giving you her best too. I'm the problem here, so don't punish Kim for what I've done. Punish me."
This act of defiance impresses Betty, and she looks up from her work. "Do you really not understand what's happening here? Possible's not trying to help you, she's trying to destroy you."
Ron blinks rapidly. How does she know—No. He can't give her any tells, that would be a complete betrayal of what Kim has been trying to do. As much as he disagrees with her so-called "plan," he wants to at least respect it.
"You need to work on your poker face, Stop-Stop," Betty laughs. "I've seen the videos, I've read the reports, I can tell she broke up with you to somehow de-power you and make you worthless in my eyes. All that's done is prove to me that she's the issue here, not you."
Ron clenches his jaw. "My relationship with KP gives me strength."
Betty shakes her head. "Ah, so you think the bond you share makes you strong. I assure you—it makes you weak. Dependent. She's a parasite, Stoppable. She wants the power you stumbled into."
Ron looks up with dim recognition. Three weeks ago, Kim said something along those lines, that he stumbled into his powers. He knows Betty is evil. Conniving. But that doesn't mean she's not speaking the truth.
She continues, "If you want to help us and be an asset to the world, you have to let her go before she exterminates you."
Ron pales. "I need her, we need each other. Otherwise my powers won't—"
"Draw your powers from somewhere else," Betty says with the cadence of a shrug. "It can't be that hard."
He stares at her. There's no negotiating with this woman. So he tries a different approach. He remembers his premonition: Kim in court, Kim in prison, Kim grappling onto an airplane, Kim with the Attitudinator.
He hates himself for it, but with the way Kim's been acting lately, with the way Future Kim held the Attitudinator above her head like a trophy, he can't deny it. Something goes horribly wrong with Kim. She becomes a shadow of her former self, and she terrorizes.
Part of him wants to warn Kim, the other part of him doesn't see the point. Kim will do what she wants, but he can at least prevent the circumstances that bring her to that place.
"You're going about this all wrong," he says.
"Excuse me?" she spits.
Ron exhales a long, raspy breath. "Kim goes to prison, and I think it's because of you. You make her go to jail, don't you? Well, she breaks out, becomes a criminal, and… I don't know what she does, but I know it's bad, Betty. I'm scared for her, and I think you should be scared for her too."
Betty tilts her head with sympathy. "Stoppable. What did she tell you to make you so soft?"
Ron frowns. "What?"
"If Possible is a threat to herself and others, why should I be scared for her? Shouldn't we just lock her up now?"
Ron furrows his brow. "No! No—I'm saying if you make Kim into the bad guy, then she's going to become one for real."
Betty smirks, smug as a cat. She positions her chin on her fingers. "And how exactly did you receive this premonition ?"
Ron hesitates. "I was reading her mind, and she forced these projections into my head."
Betty's smirk cuts across her cheek, pulling a wrinkle under her eye. "And you haven't even considered for a second that she's manipulating you?"
Ron blinks. "What? Why would she—"
"To keep herself out of jail, you idiot," Betty sighs as if it's all so obvious. "I bet the vision is true, but tell me, what did you see when you saw her in prison?"
Ron hesitates again. His hands clench and unclench at his sides.
"She was, um, on her prison cot," he explains. "I…"
Betty stays silent, glaring at Ron smugly, knowing he'll break.
It seems like such a betrayal to tell Betty this, but he needs to prove Betty wrong.
Ron continues, "She was holding her favorite stuffed animal, crying her eyes out. And I think somewhere along the way, all that grief becomes anger, ya know?"
Betty laughs dryly. "Ha. That's the illusion, Stoppable. She wants you to sympathize with her so that you'll convince me to not lock her up, leaving her free to do as she pleases. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but she's a criminal."
Ron sputters feebly, "What?! N-no, she's—"
"Do you know where she was a few nights ago?"
Ron furrows his brow. "Um… no. But I don't see why that matters."
Betty raises an eyebrow. Types away at her keyboard and slaps the monitor around to face Ron. Pictured is security camera footage of Kim entering a club. She's dressed in a trench coat and sunglasses.
Ron swallows something harsh. "Where is that?"
"The Bermuda Triangle's new flagship location in NYC," Betty explains. "The trench coat and sunglasses almost fooled our best detectives, but it's her."
Ron gulps.
She continues, "That unsanctioned mission you went on… the only entity that could have known about my deal with Hench was the Bermuda Triangle. They hired you, don't try to convince me otherwise, it's obvious . I bet Possible salivated at their offer, didn't she?"
An anxious sweat comes over Ron. "Yeah, but—I'm sure Kim had good reason—"
Betty gets up from her desk and starts pacing tight circles around Ron.
"Think about the way Possible fought for Drakken and Shego, the way she testified in court that they were rehabilitated."
Ron does remember that. He was surprised, to say the least.
Betty smirks. "Think about the way Possible threw herself at Shego during that fight in the Triangle. Think about how their little tousle dragged on for just a little too long."
"I… Betty. Stop."
She leans in all the way, getting right in his face. "Ooh, so you know something I don't, hm?"
"I—"
She draws back. "Tell me, and we'll pay for your stupid naked mole rat's recovery."
Ron closes his eyes tight. "Shego killed Señor Senior Sr.! The family tried paying us to collect Shego for them, but Kim said no."
Betty leans back, impressed with herself. "Face it. Possible's in the Game now."
Ron sweats. "I don't believe you—"
"But she hasn't been herself lately, has she?"
Ron's eyebrows knit together, creasing a line in his forehead. "She hasn't, but…"
Betty sighs theatrically. Returns to her monitor and pulls up a map, the same map the Bermuda Triangle showed Kim. From Haiti to Brazil to Morocco.
"Insider info for your eyes only, Stoppable," Betty says. "Shego's been on a killing spree. Notice anything?"
Ron blinks dimly. "It's a triangle."
"Yes, but if you factor in that Señor Senior Sr. killing you just told me about…"
Ron cringes, furious with himself for spilling on the beans on what was supposed to be a family secret.
Betty continues. "It tells us that there's more killings to be made, and if Possible is in fact in league with Shego, then it makes a lot of sense that she turned down that money."
Ron shakes his head. "I don't think that's fair, okay? Kim has done a lot of good work for this world, and you're just… you're just trying to make her the bad guy! It's messed up."
Betty laughs darkly. "You think I'm wrong? Why don't you find out for yourself why Possible turned down the job?"
Ron steps back. "H-how?"
Betty shrugs playfully. "Just ask her."
When Kim leaves the simulation room, she finds Ron waiting for her with a cup of coffee. Something vile goes off in her brain, begging her to snap at Ron, to make him feel like trash for trying to love her.
Instead, she takes the coffee, murmuring a quiet thank you to him. She keeps her eyes glued to his while she takes a sip.
"What did they say about Rufus?" she asks.
For a moment, Ron brightens up. At least some good came out of his conversation with Betty—but then he realizes that if he tells Kim that it's covered, she would know he ratted on her. So he shakes his head morosely…
…then realizing that the conclusion he came to is absurd. But Kim doesn't notice any of the conflict etched into Ron's face, nor does Ron notice the fatigue on hers.
Kim rolls her eyes. "She's evil."
"No kidding," Ron sighs.
"Don't worry, I'll get a part time job or something," she mutters. Ron starts to object, but she cuts him off. "You have enough on your plate, Ron."
Ron shakes his head. "What? Kim, you're the one under investigation, you've got boatloads on your plate, it's okay—"
Kim silences him with her own shake of the head. "I've had boatloads on my plate for my entire life, Ron. This is new to you, give it time."
Ron frowns, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Whether or not he believes Betty remains to be seen, but he does know one thing for certain: Kim still loves him, Kim still loves him more than anything. He sniffs loudly. "You're so tired right now, you're forgetting to be mean to me."
A weak giggle escapes her. "Are you okay? You seem kind of upset."
Ron nods meekly, internally furious with himself for doing so. Why can't he be strong like Kim? Why can't he put on the facade?
She draws closer to him, cups his jaw. Something in her fatigue-addled brain makes her forget about her mission to break Ron, makes her forget to stay away from him. So naturally drawn to him, she looks at him with half-lidded eyes.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Ron almost kisses her. But instead…
…he brushes her off.
"Kim, please," he growls, stepping away from her touch. "That's not fair."
Her glassy eyes widen slightly with recognition, and she nods. "Sorry."
Ron sucks on his lip for a second. "I need to ask you something. Why did you turn down the job with the Seniors?"
Kim pales a shade. Looks down at her coffee, fingers twiddling against the paper cup. She shrugs meekly, mouths something indistinct, then makes hard eye contact with Ron.
"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I can't tell you. Just know that… I'm handling it."
Betty's laughter echoes in Ron's mind, and he blanches. Turns away from Kim, unable to look her in the eye.
She tilts her head to the side. "Ron… is everything okay?"
He fights for the words he needs.
"KP," he says sternly. "I get to have secrets too."
The black tide rolls in and out while the old man burns up above.
Senior Island: Off the Coast of Spain
August 18th: 11:45PM
Shego trudges down the sands, her jaw clenched, her eyes wide, her pupils dilated. She mutters rapidly under her breath. Steps out into the ocean, the inky tide washing her footsteps away. She looks out at the horizon. Sees the black blip that is her getaway vehicle. Sighs.
She's supposed to burn so hot that she evaporates the ocean itself, allowing her to walk across the ocean floor. It's an insane plan, but she knows she can pull it off. Largely because it's either that… or death.
She just needs to…
Needs to…
…take a second…
She falls to her knees in the muddy sand. A wave passes by, soaking her slacks. Her hands fall to her sides, fingertips poised to feel the sea pass her by. These prickles of feeling are at least something to offset the numbness that pervades everything else.
She exhales, or at least, she expects to exhale, but instead she wheezes a strangled, anguished cry.
She takes out her flip phone, dials the number, and hesitates before actually making the call. She clutches the phone to her chest, her teeth pressed tightly together. She looks down at the ocean, muttering again.
This time, she rehearses.
"Hey Doc." Her voice is thin and hollow. "I know I'm not supposed to call you here, but I…" She watches the tide. In and out, forwards and backwards. "Take me home. Please. I know this job is important to you, but I can't… I can't…" Tears streak her cheeks. Stupid, pathetic tears. She wipes at her face, the sand on her sleeve irritating her eyes further.
"This is pointless," she growls at herself. "Just fucking call him."
She makes the call and waits with bated breath. Opens her mouth, the words ready on her lips. But no one picks up. Instead, Shego hears a series of beeps followed by a pre-recorded message.
"We're sorry. You have reached a number that is disconnected or that is no longer in service. "
"Dad?" she croaks. "No, no… d-don't tell me…"
She tries Drakken's second number.
" We're sorry. You have reached —"
She tries the next number. And the next number. She calls his burner, his personal, his home number at the lair, the timeshare lab, everything.
It's gone. It's all gone.
The phone bursts into flames in Shego's hand. She hurls it into the air, and it soars like a shooting star. Streaks the sky, leaving behind a trail of faint green light.
She breathes in. Breathes out.
And screams.
Still, the old man burns.
Author's Note: And now we delve into the politics of I'm Scared Too! Some people are definitely going to do a bad faith reading of this story and say that I'm encouraging violence when that is pretty far from the truth. Yes, there is going to be a lot of eco-terrorism in this fic, but it's not to be read as the end-all be-all solution to saving the world. Violence is complicated, and this is a story about that.
I truly believe that the so-called "solution" is nonviolence and mutual care through mutual aid. Case in point though, check out the transphobe reviewing this story who has described Black Lives Matter activists as looters and arsonists. It's maddening. Even when we are nonviolent, history is rewritten for us to be the perpetrators of horrible things. It's also difficult because our oppressors do not respect our nonviolence, they will use violence (AKA fascism) to uphold the status quo. So what do we do then? Honestly, I don't know.
I don't know what the future looks like. But I believe in prison abolition. I believe in abolishing the police. I believe in abolishing ICE, and so many other corrupt institutions. I believe in restorative justice. I think that we as a society need to take a leap of faith and try something new, whether or not it works, we don't know yet. But it beats the alternative IMO.