Time: 3:52 PM

Well, for some odd reason I have been obsessing over old cartoons, and dangit, Jimmy Neutron has been one of them! I guess that isn't all bad... :) I really just wanted to write about Jimmy and Cindy in the future. I'm pretty dang sure Jimmy is a buff, super gorgeous hunk in the future, being around twenty years old and all. Yeah, I day dream wayyy too much. Haha, please review!

Disclaimer: I certainly don't own Jimmy Neutron.

With a defeated sigh I sat against the wall of my grey cell. Hours of torture, pure torture as they tried to figure out what sort of monster I was. Or what had happened to me in the least. But no matter how much they tortured me, I still hadn't revealed anything. Nor would I ever.

I let my head loll to one side, my long blonde hair shifting and falling over my shoulder. It was chopped in certain areas, some long, some short, all the way up to my jaw line and ears. The officials had cut my hair as a threat, to see if I would cooperate. He soon found out it would take a lot more than an awful haircut to get me to squeal.

"I will die before I tell them where he is," I mumbled to the cold, slick concrete walls, as if to prove that I could still talk sanity to myself. Ironic in itself, I know.

My body hurt; I didn't want to move for the pain would shoot though my body in waves of electricity. I was a broken mess of bundled secrets.

Breathing out, I listened to my breath. It was choppy and weak. Hearing this coming from myself, I felt the start of tears well up in my eyes. Tears. I didn't think I had anymore tears left to cry. But here they were, hot drops of water staining my cheeks, as I felt sobs rack my body. It hurt to cry, with all the pain and bruising and cracked ribs I had, but I couldn't stop the cries from escaping my body.

"H-how could he let this happen?" I sniffled, my voice smaller than I had ever heard it. I used to be Cindy the Strong. Cindy the Merciless. And here I was; captured and broken beyond repair.

Spying my bed on the other side of the cell, I wanted nothing more than to climb onto it and fall asleep. Forever. That way I could end this horrible life of running and torture. That and the secrets would be safe.

I felt a tear trickle its way down my face, and I felt the urge to wipe it away because it was tickling my skin. No. I couldn't wipe it away. It was a symbol of why I needed to keep fighting.

Neutron. I had to protect him. Not only for his safety, or his genius. But…but because I needed him. That's one thing I realized while being in this cell for over a year. All that fighting, all that yelling and battles we threw at each other was just a way to cover up my feelings for him.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The tears burned behind my eyelids, making contact with my dry eyes. It hurt. But not as much as my heart.

"I love him," I whispered to the walls, as if needing to explain, "But he doesn't love me." I shifted my weight, biting the inside of my cheek at the pain.

Once, my face was leaning against the wall, the coolness started to spread through me, transferring from the wall to my bones. My breathing was ragged, from exerting too much energy, and the pain racking my body.

I heard the silence challenging me to explain.

"Yeah," I mumbled against the cold concrete, "I'm sure he doesn't love me back. If he did, he would have rescued me by now." I shifted my eyes to the floor, "But he only sees me as a fail experiment, nothing more. He probably has another girl to change and create his perfect creation."

I watched as single tear fell from my face and onto the concrete floor below me, staining the color from light to dark, swirling grey.

At that time, I heard the door to my cell open. The only thing that wasn't concrete in here the heavy space metal door swung open without so much as a noise until it hit the concrete wall, neither one making a dent on each other. Yeah, I got the special room. The one that special people, like me, deserve. I was such a threat, I got my own isolation room.

I shifted my eyes up, uninterested in my visitor, but having to look anyways. A tall, burly guard stared down at me from the door frame.

"Doctor's here," he mumbled gruffly.

Oh just wonderful. I didn't so much as blink at him; he didn't scare me. If my body weren't so battered up as this, I would have taken him down in a max of two seconds. My body twitched from years of training and having mastered eight different fighting styles in a matter of six years. All for the sake of myself. Myself and Jimmy. I closed my eyes again, the name bring back the tears. Harshly, I pushed the thoughts from my head and heart.

Opening my eyes again, the door had closed and a lady was standing near my bed, looking down at me sadly. I narrowed my eyes. I didn't need her pity.

Without asking, she sat on my bed and crossed her legs. She was a tiny, dainty little thing. She had short, chopped, black hair at her shoulders, and square glasses that made her look like a librarian. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Hello again Cindy," She said prettily. Her voice was so cute and high that I felt myself wanting to vomit stomach acid all over her white lab coat.

I blinked my eyes at her, as if to acknowledge her. She just stared at me. But after a while, she finally looked away from our staring contest and started flipping through her notes on a clipboard she had brought in with her, tightly held against her chest. She knew what I was capable of; how I could rip her apart. Why did she even bother to come and try to talk to me? It was useless, as I told her the first eleven times.

"It's been a while Cindy," she spoke again, looking though her notes, "A month in fact."

Whoop-dee-doo. I shifted my eyes up to the ceiling, her form in the corner of my vision. Basically my captors sent in a psychiatrist to talk to me, hoping that talking would somehow make me spill the beans and let the secret of where Jimmy was hiding slip. I scoffed at them constantly. I've never been the best one at showing my feelings well…except anger of course. That was an easy one for me. The hard thing was not showing it.

I was still silent, but she didn't seem offended by it. She just flipped through some more papers.

"Cindy," she finally said, and set her clipboard on the bed beside her, "We really would like to know where James Neutron's headquarters are. I just don't understand why you are defending him after what he did to you, the experimenting and all…" She paused and pursed her lips as if deep in thought.

I lowered my eyes slightly, feeling a twang of hurt bubble up inside of me.

When I spoke, my voice cracked and was unnaturally uneven.

"He didn't experiment on me," I said quietly, and saw her jump in surprise at my voice, and lean forward. "I volunteered myself to be a part of his studies." Memories flashed before my eyes.

I suddenly felt the heavy weight of the metal bands around my neck and wrists. I looked down at my wrists. With these bands on, it interfered with my powers. Oh my powers, I haven't used them in a year. It felt as if a part of me had been stripped and taken from me.

My powers, the ones Jimmy gave me. The bands on my wrists stopped me from creating large masses of energy and forming them into a ball of matter. In a nutshell, I could create blue fire from my hands and shoot it. A very deadly and helpful weapon. The metal band on my neck, that was more like a choker than a loose necklace, interfered with my brain waves. Without the stupid band, I could successfully teleport. Yeah, I was a successful experiment, before I was captured and sent to another planet.

She was silent, as if digesting the information. "Why would you volunteer yourself for such an experiment?"

Without hesitating, I answered.

"Power," I said. That and I didn't want anyone else to be his experiment and get close to him. I wanted him for myself. Such a foolish thing to wish.

She looked at me sadly and picked up her clipboard. "I can see there is more to the picture than you let on, Cindy. I wish you would trust me enough to tell me."

I snorted and looked at the wall.

"Keep wishing," I said bitterly. If I couldn't be happy, neither would she.