I remember when your Mom died a few months after your Dad, you vanished for a week. I tried everything and couldn't find you. I understood though. That was your breaking point. All you had left was me and I knew exactly what you were going to say when we finally saw each other. That we can't be together anymore.

I visited the cemetery every night, because I knew eventually I'd find you. You'd go there before ever going home. And I understand, it's seriously okay.

You lied to me.

For years you kept telling me the same shit, that you're dead inside, that you can't love anymore. That you feel nothing.

I saw you, Kim. I saw the way you held your mom's tombstone like it was a real person, I tried not to hear the crying but your shoulder blades were moving like wings. Up and down.

There is no one I have ever met in my life that was as emotional and caring as you. I almost wish I came out and told you I was there. But I was really scared that if I did, it would cause you to have another breakdown.

I remember when you came home as if nothing happened, dressed in gray, and gave me the divorce papers. You told me that it wasn't working anymore, because you weren't good enough. Because you couldn't feel love anymore, as much as you wanted to. That all you could do at this point was hurt me.

And I said that shit to you. I said:

KP, I'll never stop saying I love you. But I'm not going to lie, it hurts when you don't say it.

Because I know you love me too.

You got mad, you screamed at me. But you weren't actually mad, you were faking it.

In hindsight, it's sort of funny how often you lied to me, thinking you were getting away with it. I could always tell. You're worse than me, you lie like a bad lawyer.

You pulled out all the stops to convince me I had to do this with you, and at that point—I had to let you go.

I really hope your death was peaceful, Kim. If you are dead.

There's this kid, uh, kinda awkward, but she has your name. I thought she was part of some scary trafficking operation, so I spent a lot of time with her to keep her safe.

Kim, she is the nicest, sweetest person I've ever met. She's just so excited about everything, and such a chatterbox.

She's really tiny. I thought she was a kindergartener but apparently she's nine years old. She was wearing these disgusting rags and her face was covered in dirt. I don't understand how she's managed to survive for so long but… she's trans by the way. She really admires you. She says she wants to grow up to be like you.

She says she doesn't know her parents, she doesn't know her dead name, and that she gets confused a lot. She can't read… but she knows sign language.

Fluently.

I think she's you, Kim.

I think the person I've spent the past few days with is you.

(You like to be called Kimmie now by the way, thank God. Makes it easier on my head. I'm crying by the way.)

Seeing you as this wonderful child is both one of the most beautiful things I've seen in my life, and maybe one of the most fucked up? I don't know if Drakken did it, or if some divine being did it, I know you're not playing pretend. If it is Drakken, I don't know, I might kill him. The shit he put in your head. I know you hated being a kid the first time because you didn't like how out of control you felt. Now your brain has been rewired into making you think that nobody has ever loved you before.

I scared her earlier. I thought she was making fun of you and I snapped, and she ran away and hid behind a dumpster and curled into a little ball. She was shaking when I saw her Kim, I think she thought I wanted to hurt her. And it kinda broke my heart. You did the same thing with me, you always thought I'd hurt you but… this is just who she is.

You're so tiny now, Kim. I don't know if this is permanent, if you'll always be small and scrawny. Part of me hopes you do stay tiny and weak so you don't ever do those missions again, but no one deserves this. You deserve everything.

Kimmie deserves the world. I'm going to help somehow.

I'll probably never know for sure, I'm happy for you. Because you get a second chance at life, at being happy.

If it's not you, it doesn't really change anything. She still needs help. I wish you could meet her. Either as a mother, or as a mirror to see who you could be… this is so complicated.

I want to adopt her. I've only known her for two days and I want to be her dad, and I want you to be her mom, even in death, well fuck, what is this— Steven Universe ? Being your mom? Yikes.

But I can't. I need to move on for a little bit, my life has revolved around you forever and I need a break to fix my shit.

(I kinda just spent several thousand dollars on this kid.)

(And I can't pay rent now.)

(And I was late last month too.)

(And I know they want to evict me.)

(And I know I can't bring her into that.)

Don't blame yourself. Ha, I bet I'll tell you though, the child you, she'll blame herself too. I'm going to make sure she's healthy, and gets everything she wants. Because you always turned that stuff down to protect people.

I am going to sign up as her emergency contact at least, so I can stay in touch. Once she learns how to read, we'll talk more and maybe… I don't know. We'll see?

I'm sorry I just can't Kim.

I'm so upset, this tears me up inside. You were always so alone in your feelings, and I see it in her too. In you?

You keep telling me about your imaginary friends who have to remind you that you need to eat to be like a 'normal kid.' You talk to yourself a lot, when we first met you nuzzled against me. You've been hurt so bad and you're so fucking trusting. The first person that was nice to you, you just cozied up and felt safe. And then I betrayed that.

You tell me things you think are okay but they really aren't. You're so positive and maybe it's better you don't know but I really don't know what to do.

Am I a bad fucking person for walking, Kim? Is it okay that I'm giving you to a shelter and hoping for the best?

Honestly, before you died… I would've taken her and just let it be it. I wouldn't even talk to you I'd just do it.

I can't now. Because you died, and I'm looking at this little girl, and I'm seeing what you gave up (literally everything) to help people. And I know I haven't given as much as you, Kim. But I'm close to my own limit. I'm so fucking tired and…

Please forgive me. I promise I'm going to come back. I just need some space.


Sometimes, it doesn't matter what Little Kimmie and Kim do in Kimime's head at night. Kimmie still gets the nightmares, and she wakes up screaming in the gigantic bed, clutching to Pandaroo so tight. Ron, who was already awake, rushes over to her.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asks.

Kimmie leaps into his arms and holds his chest, sobbing. She says a lot of stuff but nothing really comes out. She's just making sounds, she doesn't even know what she's saying. She can't even remember her dream, but it hurt. It hurt so badly. People were hurting her and they wouldn't stop hurting and it's not fair because she's little and didn't do anything wrong.

She sobs and sobs and sobs, and it ends with Ron cradling her and eventually, singing a lullaby to her.

Kimmie looks up at him and she still feels so scared, she's shaking, and it's been a half hour. "I-i-i-is th-th-th-this wh-wh-what my m-m-mommy w-would d-do i-i-f she d-didn't d-die?"

Ron furrows his brow. "Didn't you say she abandoned you?"

"I dunno," Kimmie says. "I don' 'member anything I'm always confused… I'm s-s-s-sorry if I l-lied…"

Click.

"No, you didn't lie, Kimmie, it's okay," Ron keeps on singing in her ear between sentences. "I know somebody really hurt you. I don't know what they did but they made you think no one loves you, but I do, and a lot of other people will. And there are going to be people who can't help but hold you when you're scared."

Kimmie sniffs and smiles to herself for a moment, and looks up. "Do you have nightmares like me?"

"Not like that, Kimmie," he pets her hair. "Does that happen to you a lot?"

She nods meekly and falls back into the bed and looks at him steadily, and then brings up her hands.

"Am I always going to be like this? Will I always be small? Will I always have nightmares? " She waits a second. "I'm scared about going to school. I know I'm not very smart and… " She sees Ron crying. " Am I making you sad? "

He nods and comes over to her, picking her up again. "I just don't know what to tell you. Beyond that you're special, Kimmie. And I know that, I'm leaving you really soon. But just because I'm gone it doesn't mean no one will love you, okay?"

Kimmie doesn't know if that's true. But she hugs Ron by the ribs anyways.

"And I don't know if this will make sense but…" He chokes a sob, his eyes red and cracked.

"You don't deserve this. You're a good person."

Kimmie's mouth opens so wide and she feels funny. Because that doesn't make sense to her at all, she doesn't know what he's talking about but… something inside her is crying happy tears. She knows this. She feels this. "I…" But she can't find the words. She doesn't know how to communicate like that.

Click.

Kimmie smiles to herself. " So how are we gonna find a good shelter for me? "

Ron grins and gets up, walking over to his laptop, motioning for her to get in the chair in front of the desk. She has to jump to get up there, but when she's in and comfy she sees pictures on Ron's screen. She doesn't know but he zoomed in to hide the text from her so she wouldn't have to feel bad. And he starts talking:

Kimmie spaces out for a while looking at all the pretty pictures, and the pictures of kids who live at these homes. She wants to be their friend, but there's too many of them. She starts to get really overwhelmed and a little dizzy.

"Can we get breakfast, Mr. Stopstop?" Kimmie asks.

"Ew, don't call me Stopstop, I hate being called Stopstop," Ron frowns. "Kim convinced everyone it was so funny and—"

"STOPSTOP!" Kimmie jumps onto the bed, going up and down and chanting. "STOPSTOP STOPSTOP STOPSTOP!"

Ron shakes his head and grabs her out of the air and tickle attacks her into a pillow, and it's so fun, she can't stop laughing and kicking. He says a bunch of silly things to her about his revenge for that horrible name.

"Ron," Kimmie says when she finally gets her breath back. "I love you."

He smiles, and then goes right back into teasing. "I'm still mad at you though. Y'know, I think someone told you that one Kimmie..."

Kimmie blinks. "Umm… no. I made it up all by myself! Hee hee."

"You suuuuure?"

Kimmie nods.

"Okay then Kimmie," Ron shrugs and winks at her. "I know the actual answer about who told you about that, but Imma keep it to myself."

"Huh? Hey! Nooooooo," she whines. "I wanna know, I wanna know!"

Ron just shrugs! Agggghh, he's so mean sometimes. She signs the word "poophead" at him when he's not looking. Take that, Stopstop.


Ron settles Kimmie into the backseat of the car in the booster seat. He mentions when she gets big enough, she won't need it anymore. It makes her excited.

Before Ron goes to the wheel, he takes a knee in the parking lot and looks up at her. "Hey. Um. I want to tell you that… this place I'm taking you, there's only one in town like this. It's going to have kids like you. Some'll be a lot older than you."

Kimmie nods. "Are they all little like me?"

"No, Kimmie. Um. I'm not the most educated on this sort of thing, but you're… trans. You really being a girl, people call that trans."

"Trrraaaanss," she commits it to memory.

"It's not just you. There's a lot of people who are, um, trans."

"Are they all girls?"

"Some are boys, and some are just like, whatever they feel like. They're going to know how to take care of you. If you feel uncomfortable, it's okay. Tell me. If you can't talk, tug on my sleeve, don't worry."

Kimmie nods. "And then you're gonna go away?"

"Yeah," he rasps. "My flight's in a few hours. But it's okay, Kimmie. The people who work there are going to know me, if you want to talk to me, you can. You can call me, vidchat me, I might not always be around but we can make it work. The people will help you remember when we're supposed to talk. I'm not leaving you behind, alright?"

Kimmie grins. "This sounds really fun. Thank you for helping me."

He wipes away another tear. Wow, he must really care about her. "You've helped me a lot too, Kimmie."


Kimmie feels really scared the moment they walk into the center and clings really tightly to Ron. She's been so confident and relaxed with Ron but something about all the other grown ups scares her. Ron talks to someone at the front desk but she can't even make eye contact, and she fidgets a lot.

She listens to their conversation while staring at her feet.

"Don't worry, she's shy."

"What's her name?"

"Hey, Kimmie. You want to tell him?"

She shakes her head.

Ron pats her back. "That's okay. Her name is Kimberly Ann Possible. Hey, do you want me to pick you up?"

She nods and he lifts her, and she looks to the man talking to Ron. He's a lot younger than she thought, with a goatee and kind eyes, and Hispanic.

"Um…" he purses his lips. "Is she, um, a fan?"

"Not exactly," Ron laughs. "It's okay, I'm uh, actually Kim's… ex-husband, heh, and best friend. It doesn't bother me."

Kimmie looks and waves shyly, before hiding her face on Ron's shoulder. He carries her around, and she takes in everything. There's too many faces and too many names and too many rooms and too many things and she taps Ron's shoulder at one point. "Can ya ask if I can take a nap?"

"Of course," Ron smiles. "Hey, Jonah, is it okay if she takes a nap? She's a little stressed out. We can talk for a bit and sort out some logistics."


The place seems a little underfunded, and understaffed. Ron doesn't know much about this sort of thing, it's just the vibe he's picking up on. But it speaks volumes of the workers, who clearly give a shit. He feels bad, because there's no way Kimmie is going to feel safe before he goes. But there's no workaround to that, it's out of his control.

He's at least thankful that the turnaround is so fast. He called these people yesterday in a panic, worried they wouldn't be able to take her.

"I met her a few days ago," Ron says. "She came up to me and asked for me to buy her food."

The person with him is an older black trans woman. "Do you know how long she's been on the streets?"

Well that's a loaded question.

"She says a few years but her memories are shot, I'm not sure what you could even get out of her. Something really traumatic must have happened, she doesn't know her dead name, she's been confused about whether or not she got kicked out or if her parents died…" Ron looks up at the woman. "She's precious, she really reminds me of Kim. My um, yeah. That Kim. If I can be honest, I really want to adopt her. But I just can't right now. I'm… possibly going home to an eviction."

"I understand," the woman, Marcia, says. "Do you feel comfortable staying in contact with her?"

"Y-yeah," Ron stutters. "I was hoping to do some video calls every once in a while if that's possible, we can iron it out later, I'm sure. She um—has nightmares by the way. I had to cradle her for almost a half hour today to calm her down. They sound pretty violent."

"Poor thing…"

"Yeah. I just want her to be safe, if I had more, I would… help. Would it be okay if I talked to some people and uh, there's not a lot of people Kim and I knew who are still alive… but I could maybe convince them to donate to this shelter in her memory?" He pauses and then starts talking fast. "I don't want to put any attention or pressure on Kimmie or anything, she doesn't deserve that—"

"We would really appreciate that. Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Ron looks up.

"I'm going to help Kimmie, don't worry," Marcia assures him. "You're just beating yourself up a lot, most men in your position wouldn't be doing this right now."

"Th-thanks," Ron rubs his hands together. "It's not easy, Kim like… just passed and… I had a question about her education. Is it in this building or do you just drive them to the school?"

"We drive them."

"Okay. She's really small, I trust that she's nine, I'm just worried she might struggle. She's sensitive to teasing and—"

"It's going to be alright," she takes his hand and he blinks back tears. No one has ever needed to talk like this to him before. "If anything, Kimmie sounds like she might be the smartest kid in the room, figuring out how to survive alone at her age with no memories."

"Yeah," he's finding it hard to speak at all, "Yeah, I think you're right."

A few minutes later, Ron goes to Kimmie's new bedroom where she's not even asleep. She's kneeling on her bed, talking to a kid who is going to be rooming with her. Ron comes in quietly so as not to disturb them. Kimmie's arm hitches to Pandaroo all the while.

"So if you wanna be a boy, and I wanna be a girl, do ya think we can trade bodies?" Kimmie asks. "Oh I dunno, that'd be dumb. I like being me."

"Me too," the boy says. He has long hair cut roughly. He's probably around ten. "Oh, hi mister."

Kimmie turns around, sees Ron and squeals. She gets up on her bed and runs over to Ron, pulling him over by the wrist, and introducing him to her new friend. This sort of thing goes on for a while. It becomes apparent to him that Kimmie will probably be okay, she's very social. Maybe immature, but yeah, she's still as fast of a learner as she's ever been.

He's letting go of her very soon, and it's hard for him to hold it together.

But Marcia's right. Ron needs to take this time to work out his shit and Kimmie will be okay. Nothing apocalyptic is going to happen.


Kimmie sits on her bed alone with Ron. He has to leave in five minutes and she's starting to feel really scared all over. He's holding her and rocking her back and forth, and she knows she's only known him for a few days but she's really going to miss him.

"Ron…"

"'Sup Kimmie?" he asks softly.

"No one here knows sign language."

He squeezes her hand. "It's okay, Kimmie. If you need help, if you're anxious, I'm there for you."

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't want to make him feel bad, and beg him to take her with him. She doesn't think she'll be able to find Kim by herself, not when she's so scared.

"Sometimes Kimmie though, I won't be able to respond right away, because I have to work a lot," Ron explains. "It doesn't mean I hate you, okay? I'm going to be thinking of you a lot, probably more than you think of me. You're going to make lots of friends."

"Yeah," she smiles softly to herself. "Everyone was really nice to me and the food is yummy and I like my bed. It's just… I dunno. I liked when you cr-cradled me this morning… I don't think a-anyone here can do that for m-me. There's lots of kids who are sad too."

"I know, Kimmie," Ron rubs her back. It's quiet, there's so much she wants to say but…

She turns around and looks him hard in the eye. She's going to ask him what his job is but she flinches. She looks right into Ron's eyes and a lot happens at once. It's…

...his eyes are glazed over, his jaw is slightly clenched, his right eyebrow is twitching, his voice isn't fluctuating in pitch like it's supposed to, and he's quieter than he ever has been.

"You're scared too, huh?" Kimmie asks, as if she's known him her whole life. She stops being scared. She just wants to protect Ron. In a very serious way. She wants to be stronger so she can help him.

She keeps talking, voice tinkling like rain drops on a tin roof. "Whatever… y-you're going home to… is scary."

Click.

Click.

Ron blinks as tears start to trickle out and he nods. "Kimmie, don't worry about me okay?" But he starts to break down.

Kimmie holds him, buried in his warmth and doesn't cry.

Then Ron's phone goes off. He checks it and wipes the tears from his eyes. "Kimmie, I have to go or I'll miss my flight. I'm going to be okay, you… you really make me want to live a life okay?"

Kimmie nods. "I make you happy?"

"Yes, Kimmie, you make me very happy."

She giggles and blushes.

He musses her hair again. "Just because I'm not with you here," he points at the room they're in. "It doesn't mean I'm not in here." He cups at his heart, she does the same thing without noticing. "I'm always with you. Okay?"

He kisses her forehead, she kisses his cheek, and he leaves the room. Kimmie stays in her bed, holds Pandaroo and… and…

She's in the parking lot, someone's yelling at her to come back inside in a panic. Ron is getting in his car and stares at her. He holds up a hand and the caretaker stops behind her. Kim's body vibrates, fists curled as she looks at Ron.

Kimmie doesn't know what to say, or how to express this, without being a big baby.

"I don't like comin' up with all these dumb nicknames for you like you're my silly friend," Kimmie says.

"Um," Ron looks down at her, definitely very confused.

"I kn-know y-you c-can't be here, b-b-but..." Kimmie sniffles and runs up to him and full-on grabs his waist. "Is it okay… if I call you Daddy?"

Ron pales so fast, and looks past Kimmie to check with the caretaker that it's okay, and kneels down to her level and hugs her tight. "Daddy it is. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

She grins from ear to ear. "Okay Daddy. I love you."