She wakes up to a siren. Panics, hands clawing at her blanket. It's not until she looks up at the backsprings to the bunk bed above her that she remembers where she is.
Prison. Two life sentences. Right.
She lays against her bed for an extra moment. Frugal Lucre descends down the ladder to their bunk.
"Hey, up and at 'em, KP! It's the count!"
Kim and Lucre's Cell: Global Justice Department of Corrections
September 1: 5:30AM
"Please don't call me that," she mumbles, trying and failing to make her extra time in bed worth it.
But her bed sucks. She can feel the springs push against the bottom of her razor thin mattress pad. The blanket isn't much better, offering only the most minimal of comforts.
"What else should I call you? Kim ? No. No!" Lucre decrees.
Kim pulls her blanket closer. "I don't want a nickname."
"Sure you do!" Lucre cheers. "We should be buds! We're cellmates, now that's classic. You, the horrific murdersome traitor (and a crazy ex-girlfriend to boot!) and me! The hapless villain who keeps blowing his shot at infamy! What a duo! C'mon! This could be a really good opportunity for me."
Drakken told her once that Lucre was his cellmate for several months.
She wishes she could call him and ask how he did it.
"Possible!" a correctional officer shouts. "On your feet, now!"
Kim groans and does as she's told. She stands besides Lucre at the bars to their cell. The officer struts by, counting the prisoners on a digital clicker. After he passes by, Kim looks across the chasm and sees all the other cells and prisoners.
It's a quintuple-layered prison structured in a cylindrical shape. The cells lie on the perimeter with a watchtower in the dead-center. Hundreds of inmates live here. And will live here for some time.
And she's one of them. Soon, she'll be faceless just like the rest.
Minutes later, she walks into the cafeteria for "chow". She pales immediately at the sight of so many bodies in the room. So many big, big bodies. And familiar ones.
Right off the bat: Falsetto Jones, Motor Ed, Duff Killigan, Adrena Lynn, and Electronique. There are other nameless gunsels she knows: Goons, bank robbers, freaks, and the like.
Not to mention the Global Justice agents stationed here. To be seen like this in such an awful place, it's more revealing to her than the strip search was. All these sentimental, fucked up feelings deep within her curdle for the world to see.
Inmates can choose what they want for breakfast: hot or cold cereal. Kim feels that the cold cereal is a safer choice than the hot, especially with her stomach being the way it is. (She hasn't eaten since before the trial.) She gets some off brand Honey Nut Cheerios, a small carton of milk, and a banana.
"Beats the school cafeteria," she mutters to herself.
Still, the food makes her feel lesser, like she only deserves scraps.
Finding a table to sit at is hard. It's either she knows them or they know her. Lots of wandering eyes drill into her. There's whispers too. She hears her name over and over. Kim Possible. Kim Possible. Kim Possible. She knew it'd be like this. She knew it'd be impossible for her to be anonymous.
She eventually finds a table where she can sit alone. She stoops over her food, eating slowly.
Before, Kim might have stood up and made a statement. She'd acknowledge the elephant in the room.
Not so much now.
The correctional officers give Kim a job right off the bat. When she signs the contract, she asks if they made a mistake drafting it. But no, it's true. She makes eleven cents an hour. Pay is docked if she does a bad job.
She wrestles with it for some time. Part of her is too depressed to do much of anything, the other part of her knows that dwelling on her losses isn't going to push her forward. While this "job" nearly amounts to slavery, it can be something for her to focus on. To burrow into. Scrubbing toilets can be a good distraction.
Bathroom: GJDC
September 1: 10:14AM
So Kim scrubs the toilet as best as she can. Sitting on her knees, she leans over the edge and works the sponge through all the—
—it's best left unsaid. But she scrubs. The thing that scares her the most is going in deep, which she occasionally has to do. That means dipping the glove low enough that the water can rush in through the top.
A knock at the bathroom stall's door.
She looks back and sees Duff Killigan. A short, burly Scotsmen. Bald with a chestnut beard.
"Hoy lassie," he says.
She looks up at Killigan, staying down next to the toilet. "Oh. Hi! Duff. Sorry, I just need a few more minutes with this one.
"I'm not here to take a crap, Possible," he says. "I… just had to see it for m'self. Kim Possible behind bars. Oh, the irony of it."
Kim's face falls with disappointment. "I, um, need to get back to work. If you're here to laugh at me, you've had your time."
"You should listen to what I have to say," Killigan says all prickly.
Kim perks up with interest.
Killigan continues, "I'm here on behalf of my employer, Falsetto Jones. He runs things around here."
"I thought GJ—" she starts.
"Of course they do," Killigan sighs with condescension. "But Falsetto Jones has a mighty strong swing around here, and he has a message for you."
"A message," Kim repeats stiffly, not liking where this is going.
"He, and many of us, have seen your trial," Killigan says, and Kim immediately flinches with embarrassment. He continues, "And we're just not buying it."
Kim blinks. "Wh-what? What do you mean?"
Killigan puts his hands on his hips. "You, Kim Possible, all of a sudden are a criminal. A supervillain even. In all the years I've known you… it doesn't make sense. The only thing that does —make sense that is—is that you didn't do any of the things the Buffoon claimed you did."
"You… you think I'm innocent?" Kim says with hope.
"No," Killigan says smugly. "We think it's a set-up. All to plant all-star Global Justice agent Kim Possible here. Among us nefarious people. To spy on us."
Kim's fight or flight instincts kick up. She tenses, wondering if this is about to turn into a fight. Just in case, she drags her mop closer.
Killigan erupts into laughter at the sight of it. Theatrically wipes a fake tear from his eye.
"Listen," he says. "You just stay the Hell away from us. You understand?"
"No," she replies instantly. "I'm not . I'm… I'm not guilty either. I got set-up, I…"
Killigan is unconvinced. He sighs in aggravation.
Kim falters. She shakes her head. "I gotta get back to work. You got anything else for me?"
Killigan lingers for a moment. He turns away. Stops in the stall doorway.
"No one can trust a rat, Possible."
Kim clutches her towel close to her chest, her flip-flops click-clack ing across the tiled ceramic floor. She's surrounded by twenty, maybe thirty different women. Many of them don't even bother wearing their towel, and just hold it at their side, leaving them in the buff. Kim wishes she could be so bold.
Showers: GJDC
September 1: 4:04PM
The showers kick on, and the inmates walk into the waters matter-of-factly. Kim hesitates at the edge. Turns back to the (male) correctional officer behind her. Like all the others, he's in heavy armor.
"You have five minutes," he says sternly.
She looks back at the showers. Winces at the sight of so many nude women in the group shower, and turns back to the guard.
"Um, it's m-m-my f-first day," Kim stammers. "C-c-could I… um… m-maybe d-do this some other time?"
The CO eyes her with disdain. Sniffs at the air theatrically. "Aren't you one of our custodians?"
Kim cringes. "Yes."
"I'm not smelling your stink, you get your ass in that shower, now," he says.
Her face flushes. She turns away. Walks closer to the shower. Dips her foot into the waters. At least it's not freezing cold. Lukewarm maybe. Not nearly hot enough to be remotely relaxing. She looks back at the CO. "Could you maybe look—"
And suddenly Kim is wearing nothing at all.
An inmate steals her towel. Throws it deeper into the showers.
"Pigfucker!" someone cries out.
Kim yelps and backs away into the waters, covering as much as she can with her hands. She crouches down to her haunches and cries. Hot tears blur her vision. The humiliation, the degradation, it never ends. So Kim shuts down. She doesn't move. She just cries.
She cries and cries and cries.
Five minutes pass. Kim dries off. Eventually, she regains her composure.
Chow is good at least. She gets to eat chicken nuggets and green beans. It calms her down. Lucre even elects to sit with her. Granted, all he talks about is their branding as an evil duo. However, she tolerates Lucre's insistence to fill every void with his voice because he reminds her of a simpler time.
In fact, she feels almost relaxed when she turns into her cell for the night. Only to find out someone took a literal shit in her bed. She tries to get a CO to help her, but he merely shrugs her off and tells her they'll deal with it tomorrow.
As such, Kim sleeps on the floor that night. Before, it might have broken her to do this, but after every other wretched thing that's happened over the past forty eight hours, Kim finds that she doesn't mind. She just wants to sleep.
Sleep is good.
Sleep is safe.
Time passes, and all Kim hears is white noise.
Kim stands with her arms slack at her sides, staring drearily at the bright blue sky overlooking the prison yard.
"Hey! Move it!" one inmate shouts. It takes Kim too long to register it, and the man shoulder checks her to the side. She pats the spot where he struck her and drags her feet forward.
She knows it's a gift to be allowed outside. She knows there are things to do here that she might excel at. Games. Exercise. It would be good for her.
But Kim doesn't care. She doesn't care much about anything right now. So she trudges along, her mind so occupied with dread, that she hardly processes anything in front of her.
Which is why it takes Shego three tries to get Kim's attention.
Prison Yard: GJDC
September 9: 3:54PM
" Princess! " she shouts.
Kim blinks rapidly. Looks to her right and nearly jumps at the sight of Shego standing across her in an orange jumpsuit.
"Yeah." Shego throws her hands on her hips. "Small world, eh? Well, not really. This is one of the only prisons in the world that can handle two destructo gals like us."
Kim nods gently. "I guess so."
Shego frowns. "Anyways, I was going to ask, but Lucre already got to me. Sorry to hear about your sentence."
"Th-thanks." Kim puts the bare minimum energy she has into talking, speaking barely past a whisper. "Yeah, it, um… sucks. S-sorry I didn't take your advice."
"Don't be sorry, it's not like it's my problem," Shego says. She turns away from Kim and plays not caring, though the conflict on her face says different.
Kim, so ready for the other shoe to drop, doesn't pick up on it. "Oh," she grunts.
Shego shrugs. "I mean, it's not on me for you to make good choices. Me? My guy got me down to fifteen years… not that I, uh, intend on serving all fifteen, if you catch my drift."
Kim blinks. Breaks from the conversation to let her eyes wander up the high, high walls of the prison. There are towers in the corners. Watchtowers with spotlights. At night, those lights are always on the move. Not to mention the fact that the prison is crawling with feds.
"You think I can't pull it off," Shego says.
Kim looks over at her, unimpressed. "I think you'd be hard-pressed. Especially with those inhibitors on your wrists."
Shego glances down at them. "Yeah? Well, I'll think of something. I've done it before. Several times."
"Uh huh." Kim allows herself the shadow of a smirk. "I'm pretty sure at the end, you were just waiting for other supervillains to drag you out."
Shego narrows her eyes. "What can I say? I'm a woman of opportunity."
Kim's smirk grows into a smile. Warmth swells in her chest, and she laughs.
Shego smiles back. But only for a second. Her gaze drops from Kim and wanders away. Shego grinds her teeth against her lip, thinking. Then turns back on Kim.
"Y'know, this is fun and all, but I've had some time to think about it," Shego explains dryly. "And I'm… pretty mad at you."
Kim frowns. Already, her throat closes in. Gets dry and scratchy. Her eyes water.
Shego continues, "I mean—it was the perfect hit. I could've killed the guy and bounced before anyone knew what happened. But you … you just had to interfere. And why? To save me? Princess, my soul is already torched. You know what I've done, and yet… Christ."
Kim's lip twitches. Difficult, complicated emotions overcome her very quickly.
Shego continues, "You have no right to interfere in my life like that. You are not my friend. Capiche?"
Kim erupts into tears. Shego, at first, is taken aback. She looks around for help, her eyes falling back onto Kim only when she can't find a way out.
Shego sighs. "Hey, are—are you okay?"
Kim shakes her head, her face flushed. "No," she manages to say through tears. "I did the same thing to Ron. I tried to control his future by manipulating him and interfering with his life. I'm an abusive, toxic, evil person. And I deserve to be here!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Shego says quietly. "You don't deserve this. You're Kim Possible, okay? The world owed you a solid, and they didn't give it to you. You should be mad."
"I am mad!" Kim shouts, turning a few heads. "Everybody turned on me! They set me up."
Shego crosses her arms."From what I heard Kimmie… you didn't really give them a chance? I don't know, I'd need to see it to know."
Kim stays silent.
Shego continues. "Lucre also told me that you had a mental breakdown in court… and on television?"
Kim nods, feeling very exposed.
Shego nods back. Eases into her idea nice and slow. "You know, if you wanted to play this smart, you could probably use that to justify a mistrial."
Kim shrugs weakly. "What's the point? I already lost everything."
Shego's disappointment slowly turns to disgust. She speaks harshly. "Listen, I got enough problems on my plate. I can't deal with this right now, so unless you decide you want to be helpful in getting me out of here, buzz off."
Shego turns on her heel and walks away. Kim hangs back, stunned.
Ever since Kim gets the letter saying that her parents will be there on the tenth, she's been imagining the scene. Rehearsing it even. She can't cry. That's a big one. She needs to be strong for them. She needs them to know she's okay, even if she isn't.
Then Kim's eyes meet her mother's, and she finds that she can longer hold it together.
Visitors' Center: GJDC
September 10: 1:00PM
As is becoming her normal, Kim breaks into tears.
It's an open room with several tables set across the floor for families to sit across from one another. A CO stands in the back of the room, armed with a really big gun.
"Oh honey…" Ann sighs. Maternal instincts take over, and she swoops around the table to embrace her daughter.
Kim shakes her head and shrinks back. "There's a no c-contact rule, I don't want you to get in trouble."
Her mother eases back.
Kim continues. "I'm s-sorry. I didn't mean to make a scene."
Ann nods. "Kimmie. It's okay. Just… let it out."
Kim chokes back a sob, and it all comes tumbling out.
"I know I made some mistakes," she says through tears. She shivers, her confidence dwindling. "But I'm not… I don't… um. Um. I'm s-sorry, I didn't want to, um…"
James finally speaks, having seen enough. "Kimmie-cub. I am saying this in the most loving way I can, I need you to understand that. You're really not doing okay. We're worried about you. But I'm sorry—"
"James," Ann chides.
James. "—Ann, we can't dance around this."
"D-dance around what?" Kim shudders.
James continues, "You could be guilty of all of it, I wouldn't care. I'd still be here. But before anything can continue between us, we both would like to know what exactly we heard was true, and what wasn't."
Ann looks from James to Kim. Shrugs. I'm sorry.
Kim looks at James, her voice watery. "Almost everything in Ron's testimony is true. Except he's wrong. I'm not with the Bermuda Triangle. I wasn't using him as a lookout, I was… I thought we were together. I really thought I could make it work."
Her parent's expressions are unreadable.
James speaks first. "Okay. Why did you do it then?"
"I was trying to stop Shego without hurting her," Kim says with a shrug. "I know that sounds crazy, but it's the truth. I was worried about her, and the only way I could think of to save her was to stop her."
James smiles, satisfied. "We may now continue the conversation about your health. Kimmie-cub, we called the office for you, and there's a psychiatrist in the facility that might be able to help you."
Kim fidgets nervously. "O-okay. Thank you." She gives herself a moment to think about it. "Can it wait? I—I don't know if I'm ready for that."
Ann looks at Kim with pleading eyes. "Kim. Look at me."
Kim turns, and she sees love in her mother's eyes. It makes her feel like a little girl again. She gives into another fit of tears.
"You're not yourself," Ann says, voice strained.
Kim looks up. "What if I am?" Her parents look at each other in confusion. "What if this is it? What if I die here?"
Ann can't bear it anymore and gets up. Dashes around the table and gives her daughter a hug. It's a warm embrace that consumes Kim. For a moment, things feel like they might be okay.
"No contact!" the CO shouts.
Ann backs away only when Kim is ready, much to the CO's annoyance. She takes a seat.
Kim starts first, a shadow of herself at this point. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was just trying to be Kim Possible."
"Listen to me, honey," Ann says softly. "Listen to me. It's okay. We know you're scared, and maybe a little confused, but we are here for you. In fact, your father and I are talking about moving out here so that we can visit you as often as you need us."
"R-really?" Kim's voice cracks. "You don't hate me?"
"No," James says. "We can't claim to condone everything you've done, but we're here for you. Always."
Kim clutches her towel close to her chest tighter than ever. Once again, she is surrounded by women. So many faceless women. She longs to melt into the group, to become numb to this kind of existence. But she can only long for it.
Showers: GJDC
September 11: 4:02PM
She's avoided the showers as much as possible. At a minimum, she has to shower two nights a week, pending extreme circumstances. Today though, she needs to shower, or she could be punished.
As usual, she hangs to the back and lets the other women go in first. She takes a deep breath, loosens her hold on her towel and drops it. Leaves it on the bench, folded in such a way that she'll recognize it among the others. She moves into the shower, following the no brainer rule of no eye contact, no peeping. Eyes straight ahead. Disassociate. Clean. Five minutes. Tick tick tick.
Ploomph!
She fumbles and drops her soap. She rolls her eyes. The soap skids a fair distance before a foot lands on top of it. Kim looks up the well-toned leg of Adrena Lynn, a supervillain from the old days. She has blond hair and bangs over her left eye. Her expression is unreadable.
Kim immediately blushes and backpedals. "I, um…"
"You need this?" Adrena asks if nothing were wrong.
Kim furrows her brow. "Um… y-yes, if you w-wouldn't mind. I'm sorry it slid too close to you… um…"
Adrena rolls her eyes. Grabs the bar of soap and breaks it up into little, unusable pieces.
"N-no stop," Kim whimpers. "I'll get in trouble if I don't clean myself." She hates herself for whining like a child, but she doesn't know how else to express herself.
" Hey !" A familiar voice snaps. Shego steps forward, and for a moment, Kim sees Shego's bare chalk white body. She turns away out of respect, jamming her eyes shut. Shego continues, "You leave her alone, got it?"
"I thought Kim and Lucre were the pair," Adrena says, her eyebrows arched.
"That will never be a thing," Kim swears.
Shego speaks to the room, "She's with me. Alright?"
Shego takes Kim by the hand and drags her away. Cracks her own bar of soap in half and places one piece in Kim's hand. "Here. Listen, from now on, you stay with me. In any situation you can, I want you here at my side. Then I can protect you while you're feeling down. Good?"
"Um," Kim stammers. She chokes. "Um."
"It's okay, Kim," Shego says quietly. "It's okay. I'm gonna take care of you."
Kim still keeps her eyes shut. "But you said—"
"I know what I said," Shego sighs. "Just… be cool. Alright?"
Kim blushes. Looks away, opening her eyes when she's certain she won't see Shego. For some reason, today, the water feels warmer.
She turns around and looks Shego in the eye. "You like me," she teases.
"Kim," Shego growls. "Shut up."
They strike in the middle of the night. Three men swarm Kim while she's asleep. They grab at her body and instinct comes to life. She reacts. Sends her fists crashing towards her assailants, but it's fruitless. Her hands merely bruise against heavy armor.
Two of the men hoist Kim out of bed by the arms. She screams, the sound carrying enough to wake a few inmates. The cry is cut short by a hand clapping over her mouth. She resists, but the three men easily overpower her. They tie a gag over her mouth and slip a bag over her head. She kicks and kicks and kicks, but it's of no use. Eventually, she gives up. She lets them carry her. At first, she tries to track their movements to identify where she's going. She loses it fast.
Shortly after, the men throw her to the floor. Her knees hit the concrete head-on, and she grunts in pain. A hand steadies her shoulder, holding her down while a pair of handcuffs slap onto her wrists. The bag comes off, and Kim finds herself looking at a pair of high-laced boots. She recognizes them immediately and glances up at the towering Doctor Director.
Solitary Confinement: GJDC
September 12: 3:34AM
A door slams behind them. Kim glances back. There are no windows, and much like everywhere else in the prison, the walls and floor are made of plain concrete. There's a bed here and a toilet. Nothing else. People go crazy in rooms like this.
Kim rises to meet the Director's gaze. Meanwhile, she fiddles with the handcuffs. One bad twist of the thumb, and she can dislocate it. Should be enough to slip one hand free from the cuffs.
Betty sizes Kim up. "You are going to tell me exactly what I want to know."
Kim stares at Betty readily.
"Where's the disc?" Betty says.
Kim grits her teeth; she feels so stupid for not having anticipated this.
Betty advances towards Kim, and Kim retreats. Betty continues, "I am only going to ask you once, Possible."
Kim bares her teeth. "Or what—"
Betty strides forward and slams her fist into Kim's stomach. Kim crumples, only to get knocked across the temple. She hits the floor. Tries boosting herself back up with her hands to no avail.
Betty kicks Kim in the chest, knocking her down. She steps over Kim's prone form. Digs her heel against Kim's jaw, pressing down on it like a gas pedal. Betty grimaces and works her foot downwards. Runs it into the center of Kim's purpled throat.
Betty smirks. "Did you really think that I wouldn't come for you after Stoppable's testimony?"
Kim leers at Betty and weighs her options. She could easily give up the disc, but that would mean giving up the Bermuda Triangle. That doesn't sit right with her. Besides, if she ever does somehow manage to make it out of this horrid place, the Triangle might be the only people she can turn to. As such, she can't give up the disc. But she also has nothing else to bargain with.
Betty growls, "We've torn your house to pieces, and it's not there. So where?"
Something awakens within Kim, something dark and fierce.
"You brought my family into this?" she says. "You can't—they're civilians! They're nothing to you! And you—
Betty shifts her foot. Presses down hard enough to clamp Kim's jaw shut.
"The next words out of your mouth better be where the disc is, or so help me God," Betty says.
Kim grinds her teeth. Wrestles with the joint to her thumb discreetly. She keeps her eyes fixed on Betty. Sneers.
Gently, Betty eases up on Kim's neck. Kim's mouth opens a crack, and she drags out one coarse breath. Like a bullfrog's rumble.
Snap! She dislocates her thumb. Pain ripples across her face, but she suppresses it. She shimmies her hand through the cuff. Clenches it (except for the thumb.) Stares up at Betty and chances it. She trips her legs out. Hooks them around Betty's feet and topples her. Betty falls on her chin, and Kim acts fast. She climbs on top of Betty, without a plan, and panics.
Emotion seizes Kim, and she sends her hands down to Betty's throat. Squeezes tight, but only for a moment. As the flesh reddens under her grip, Kim loses her composure.
A smug look slowly grows across Betty's face. "You have nothing," she hisses.
Kim backs off. Relocates her thumb. Betty takes her time getting back to her feet, but Kim stays poised to brawl.
Betty clicks her tongue. "You lay another finger on me, and those men? They'll beat you raw. Now. Tell me. Where's the disc?"
Kim hesitates.
Betty swings. Kim ducks. But she can only run for so long. Betty charges Kim like a bull. Bashes her up against the concrete wall. She launches into an onslaught. A punch to the chest. A kick to the hip. Punch to the head, and Kim hits the floor. Bleeding from the mouth, she lies there, limbs hunched like a wild animal's.
Betty kicks her. Square in the stomach. Then she kicks Kim again. And again. And again.
Kim's whole body twitches inward with each strike. Each blow bleeds into the next.
Betty kicks Kim's legs, her arms, her chest, her everything. It all burns, and it's relentless. Betty doesn't stop. The assault doesn't end. Eventually, Kim reaches a moment in her pain threshold where the subsequent blows don't hurt so bad. She becomes used to the trauma of it.
And then Betty kicks Kim right in the eye. A massive bruise blossoms across her face, the eyelid flapping shut. Kim howls in agony. Betty grips Kim by the throat. Slams her into the wall and strangles her.
…
Kim tries to swat Betty away, but the strength drains from her fast. Her air supply goes and goes and she loses it. Blood shoots into her only open eye. She opens her mouth wide and gasps for air, but it doesn't take. Tears stream down her cheeks as the last of her life goes out of her.
Betty takes a deep, angry breath. Slowly releases Kim.
Kim gasps for air frantically.
"Talk," Betty says stiffly.
And something changes within Kim. She tries to answer, I sold it to the Bermuda Triangle. I'm sorry, please stop hurting me. But the words don't come out. It's as if her body has completely forgotten how to produce sound.
Betty's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fuck?"
Kim mouths something, something no one understands, and she breaks down into tears.
Betty shakes Kim aggressively. "What are you getting at?"
Kim gestures at her mouth. Shakes her head.
"You can't talk. Now ?"
Kim nods, unable to stop crying.
Betty groans like a teenager and gets to her feet. Marches to the door.
"Out!" she barks. The door swings open, and Betty steps out. She looks over her shoulder at Kim. "Inform the guards that Ms. Possible is to remain in solitary confinement until she cracks."
The door swings shut.
Days go by.
She can't be sure how many. She keeps an eye on the latticed window in the door. It's her only gateway to the outside world. Through it, she can track the guard's rotation schedule. They don't feed her, but they do give her water on an irregular schedule. She tries to stay present, she tries to hold onto whatever is left of Kim Possible.
But all too soon, Kim unravels.
She sits on the floor, her limbs hanging limp, much like a broken toy. Her gaze burrows into the wall, all while her mind drifts. The immediacy of the cell fades away.
She imagines her past. Fiery explosions, last minute getaways, death rays, tanks filled with electric eels, aliens from outer space. She remembers it all so clearly, though now it all feels like it happened to someone else. And maybe it did.
More than that, she can't remember her voice. It's as if she's always been mute.
There are so many moments where she could have put a stop to everything. So many moments where she held that power, but no, she had to soak in the praise. She had to be perfect. She had to have everything.
Heat builds on Kim's face from sheer anxiety, and sweat peels off her skin. An unknown amount of time passes. Suddenly, she hears a voice. An unidentifiable female voice. It's cold and powerful. It grips her by the throat.
Look at you. Look at what's become of the great Kim Possible.
Kim looks around for the source of this voice, but as far as she can tell, she's utterly alone in the cell. She looks ahead. Tries to verbally assure herself that she's not crazy, forgetting for a moment that she's mute.
You can't even talk. You can't do anything . And what good is a Kim Possible who can't do anything?
The words vibrate through her body, making her limbs twitch. She looks around in a panic. Words bubble into her throat. Who are you? But of course, nothing comes out. She shrinks in on herself. Tries to back away, but doesn't know where to even run to.
You think you're losing your mind? No, my dear, you have clarity .
Chains slink out from the wall and coil around her limbs like angry snakes. They jerk her body against the wall, and Kim feels the strangest sensation: the floor crawls inward, dragging her outstretched legs along. When she looks up: the bed, the toilet, the door, they're all gone. The room contracts inward, shrinking and shrinking. Panicking now, she starts to cry.
You're not even a cool bad guy. No, you ran off to your parents to cry like a little girl. You cried in the shower. You cried in front of Shego. You're such a pathetic loser.
Kim tries to make herself shriek. She needs the voice to stop. No sound comes out, but the compulsion to scream stays lodged in Kim's throat. She holds it within her for a moment.
The voice drops into a deeper register. An imitation of her mother.
Let it out, Kimmie. Let it out.
Kim can't deny that voice. Tears trickle down her cheeks on command. The voice returns to normal.
You're just a scared little girl.
A tingling sensation spreads across her flesh, making her hairs stand on end. Quickly, her perspective dwindles. Her body retracts into itself. Muscles and fat drain away, her adult teeth fall out, and she becomes weak. Very weak. She shrinks down into an eight-year-old little girl in a tiny prison uniform, and her whole world simplifies. All the little nuances of adulthood leave her, and she feels so scared.
The voice booms in her mind, louder than ever.
This is who you really are. You've spent your life fighting losers who are even more pathetic than you. Did you really think you saved the world? Did you really think the world owed you anything?
She slouches and jams her eyes shut, but just before the blackness overcomes her, she sees a shadow flash across the floor. She looks around in a panic and finally recognizes the entity that's been speaking to her all along: Herself.
Other Kim towers over her. Her black suit is frayed and worn. She's beaten, bloodied, and bruised, just like Kim.
Other Kim crouches down to little Kimmie's level with a deranged smile on her face.
You are toxic. You areevil. You dobelong here.
Kim wrestles against her restraints to no avail. Other Kim crouches closer.
You're going to die here. Maybe they'll kill you, or maybe you'll just rot. But you're going to die here…
A spasm of pain crosses Other Kim's face. She looks at Kim with desperation.
…unless you change.
Kim pales. The chains binding her loosen and slink back into the wall. She leans back, her limbs twitching with uncertainty.
Other Kim's eyes get wide and hopeful while tears leak out from the sides.
You have to become strong again. You have to seize your fate. Become the hero you've dreamt for yourself.
Other Kim trembles. She stretches her arm out, reaching towards Kim, unable to keep her arm steady. Tears stream down her cheeks, and she falls over. Catches herself with both arms. Hyperventillates. Looks up at Kim and tries again. Stretches her hand out for Kim to take.
I'm scared too. I'm like you, Kim. I am you. But I can't do this alone. I need your help.
Kim crawls out from the wall. She looks at Other Kim with sympathy. She reaches towards them, but Other Kim suddenly gets cold feet. She retracts inwards. Her limbs twitch inward, and like Kim, she makes herself small. She breaks down into tears.
Kim smiles weakly. Crawls closer.
We can't go back to the way things were, but we can still be Kim Possible.
Kim embraces Other Kim, but when her hands sink into Other Kim's flesh, pain erupts across her nerve endings. Sharp, cutting pain. Kim falls to the floor, and Other Kim disappears. Visions swarm Kim's mind rapidly, consuming her mind. Evil, vile things. She sees death. Destruction. Violence.
She sees blood in the city streets. Skulls lacing the sidewalks. Bodies strewn over each other in piles. Each corpse carries a new memory for her, the memory where she killed them. It's oil executives, politicians, CEOs, and the like. She sees herself walking among it, surveying her work. A dark expression is on her face: Apathy.
A figure suddenly rises up from the piles and makes a break for it. She doesn't hesitate. She takes out her revolver and shoots him without a second thought. He collapses, but he's not out. No. He crawls away, using just one hand. It's all he has left. Bleeding from the jaw, he drags himself across the pavement, across the corpses.
Kim follows him. Catches up fast and steps on his heel. Just the gentlest of pressures is enough to stop him.
The dead man walking turns onto his back. Stretches a hand towards Kim in desperation.
"KP," he chokes.
She takes the shot.
Kim lies on her side on the floor, curled into a ball, completely out of it. Bug-eyed, her pupils are constricted into little dots. Her lips work themselves furiously, mouthing words no one can hear. Drool leaks from her mouth, and her fingers form a little cage in front of her chest.
A voice speaks.
Kim.
A hand waves in front of her eyes. She's completely unphased.
The voice tries again.
Kim.
Nothing.
Kim!
She wakes up with a start. Looks up at Ron looming over and silently screams She pushes herself back to the wall, hiding behind her hands in fright.
Solitary Confinement: GJDC
September 17: 10:51AM
Ron looks different now. He looks like one of them . Gone is the black sweater and cargo pants. The boy now dresses like the rest of the Global Justice agents. It's a navy blue uniform with an orange stripe running across the chest. He even got a haircut, shaving off the cowlick and messy hair. He stands with a stiff posture that's unlike him and advances towards Kim.
Oddly enough, a slate dangles from his neck on a small string. She looks at it curiously, but backs away when Ron gets too close. He stops. Stares down at her. Then, with a deep sigh, he lowers himself down to his haunches.
He extends a hand to her. "Kim."
Kim shrinks backwards, hands blocking her face from sight.
"Kim, I'm not gonna hurt you," Ron says with a hitch in his voice.
Kim shakes her head aggressively, pushing herself further and further back until she lands in the corner of the room.
"I swear, Kim," Ron says seriously. "I know Betty did a number on you, and one day, she'll answer for that. But right now, I'm here and I won't hurt you."
Kim shakes from head-to-toe. She can't help it. She knows Ron hates her, she knows that Ron should hate her, and that he's going to betray her again and again and again and again and again.
Ron sniffs. Reaches for her prison uniform. She panics. She doesn't know what to do, or how to handle it, but all of a sudden Ron is holding onto the front of her shirt, undoing the clasps. She swats his hand away, rearing back in fear.
"Look, KP, I'm sorry," he says. "I have to take it off so I can see what I even need to heal, alright?"
She presses her shirt tighter to her skin, a determined look on her face.
"Kim, you need to let me help you," Ron pleads. "You're in a bad shape."
Kim tries to mime something with her hands, but just raising her left wrist burns. She gives up on it immediately. Slouches. Eyes the slate around Ron's neck, and her cheeks sting with shame. She motions for him to pass it to her.
He passes it over. She sets to work. Writing is strange, it makes her head hurt. The letters are tough on her eyes. Barely discernible.
Are you re▓l?
Ron's face slacks with sympathy. "Yes," he rasps.
She looks at him hard, almost as if she doesn't believe him.
I think I'm l▓sing my m▓nd, Ron.
"I'm sorry," he says. "You know… I can get you out of here."
She looks up with interest, only to narrow her eyes in suspicion. She backs deeper into her corner.
He sighs. "Tell me about the disc, Kim, and I can get you out of here. I promise."
She immediately gestures at her mouth.
He shakes his head. "Use the pen, KP. C'mon. Do the right thing."
Kim looks back at the slate. Her hand shakes as she writes.
I don't w▓nt to. I want to go home. Please help me.
Ron squirms with discomfort.
Kim barters. She writes more.
I'm r▓ally scared. I'm c▓llapsing at the seams. Every wak▓ng day is a new nightmare. Please. Please help me.
Ron takes one long shaky breath. He shakes his head gently. "I can't."
Kim's face scrunches up. She reaches up to wipe some tears away then releases the pen. It dangles besides the slate on a string.
Ron gets very uneasy. "Kim. Don't make me do this."
She stares at him. Shrugs and lets her limbs hang slick. Closes her eyes.
He grits his teeth. Shakes his head. Looks up at Kim with teary eyes.
"Mystical Monkey Mind Read," he mutters.
Kim's eyes shoot wide open, glowing blue. If she could scream, she would. This isn't like before when Ron read her mind. Now, it feels like there is a fat bug crawling across her brain. A tendril splinters off and runs down her throat, writhing about, and she chokes. The tendril splits into two halves and grips her by the top and bottom of her mouth. It manipulates her like a puppet, making her mouth flap. But no sound comes out. No matter how hard Ron tries, no matter how hard Kim tries, she's mute.
Ron blinks. "So you're not faking it… okay. Just a few more seconds, KP…"
The tendril slinks out of her mouth. Slips down her throat and springs into her limbs. As much as she tries to resist, the tendril makes her fingers dance across the slate.
I sold it to the ▓ermuda Trian▓le.
Ron blinks again. Looks Kim in the eye, a dark smile crossing his face.
"Really?" Ron scoffs. "Those people? Again ? And you still say you're innocent, Kim. Come on."
Kim looks at Ron helplessly. Burrows back into her slate. She starts to write down the story in a panic, but by then Ron has already gotten up. He heads towards the door. Stops and looks back at her.
She stops mid-sentence. Erases it all. Writes something else.
I hate you.
A sad look crosses Ron's face. He shrugs. Opens the door. Hangs in the doorway for an extra moment. From here, Kim can see the two heavily armored guards stationed outside her confinement.
"I'll have you out in a few minutes," he says weakly.
The door shuts.
Getting to the infirmary from Solitary Confinement is Hell. Not to mention time consuming. Every little movement ignites some kind of white hot pain. As such, Kim moves extremely slowly, her feet slowly shimmying her along. But eventually she makes it.
Kim rolls into the cafeteria on a wheelchair. An eyepatch is slung over her left eye, and her left arm is in a sling. Her body is heavily bandaged underneath the prison uniform. One of the nurses wheels her along.
Chow has already started, Kim sees. The inmates, so focused on their food, don't notice her at first. Then Shego stands up from the table she's set aside for her and Kim. (And Lucre. Under protest.) Her eyes first fall on the eyepatch. Then the wheelchair.
"Oh my God," Shego says.
Cafeteria: GJDC
September 17: 11:31AM
Several inmates stop eating to see what the commotion is. They turn towards Kim and freeze. The room quiets down while more and more heads turn to look at Kim. Suddenly all eyes are on her.
She doesn't know what to do, so she waves meekly and rolls towards her table.
Shego gets up. Offers a hand to Kim. Looks at the nurse. "I'll take it from here."
The nurse nods and leaves. Meanwhile, Kim eyes Shego's hand with distaste. She tries getting out of the chair on her own, but it's just so painful. She drops back into the chair and heaves a heavy breath.
Writes on her slate.
Can you c▓rry me for a second?
Shego nods. Scoops one arm under Kim's legs and lifts her into the air with ease.
Kim grabs onto Shego on instinct, blushing immediately and releasing her. Shego sets Kim down.
Kim smiles for a second, only to make eye contact with one of the inmates. The inmate shrugs and turns away, but the rest still stare at Kim.
And then Kim sees him: Falsetto Jones. A thin black man with a pencil mustache, a rather large forehead, and a skunk stripe running through his tuft of jet black hair. He nods to Kim with respect. Turns away to his chow. The other inmates follow suit.
Shego takes a seat across from Kim. Leans into her elbows. "Holy shit, Princess. A shit ton of us heard you got abducted the other night… good on you for screaming. I'm sure they didn't like that."
Kim nods.
Lucre butts in. "Wait, so you didn't talk?"
Kim's face screws up with conflict. She writes it down on her slate.
Ron re▓d my mind. So they know what happened to the d▓sc. But no, I didn'▓ talk. I can't t▓lk.
Shego's eyes widen with amazement. "Wait… what do you mean you can't talk?"
Kim shrugs. Looks at Shego helplessly. Bites her lip, thinking best how to summarize it. It's frustrating. She can only speak as much as the slate physically allows. It limits her. Like everything else.
I don't know. After Betty st▓angled me, I just lost my v▓ice. I don't know h▓w long it's been.
She looks up from her writing. She wonders if she should just say it and chances it. Writes it down and looks up at Shego, a significant look on her face.
And I'm r▓ally scared. I d▓n't know what's h▓ppening to me.
A flash of discomfort crosses Shego's face, but she eases into something kinder fast. "She… strangled you?"
Kim nods meekly.
Shego's mouth hangs open a moment longer. She swallows. "It's been five days, Princess. And I'm sorry, earlier, you said this was all about the disc?"
Kim nods grimly.
"Shit," Shego swears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry to have involved you in all this."
Kim's face scrunches up with tears for just a moment, but they fade.
We've b▓th gotten each other into tr▓uble now. We're ▓ven.
Shego exhales, mildly disturbed. She nods. "Um. Hey, let me get you some food. It's tacos. You want chicken or beef?"
Kim shrugs.
D▓aler's choice.
Shego smiles. Gets to her feet. "I'll be right back. Lucre, don't be annoying."
Shego makes her exit, and Lucre immediately turns on Kim. "Do you get what a big deal this is?" he says.
Kim furrows her brow. Shakes her head innocently.
Lucre smiles weakly. "Everyone thought you were some kind of cop or plant before this. Now everybody knows: Kim Possible ain't no rat."