I do not own any Disney character named herein, and am only writing a nonprofit story for entertainment purposes only.
Kim Possible: Lost
Shego stared at the shirt she had found when she pulled her spare uniform out of the closet. The dark purple top had been casually tossed into the closet, unnoticed and left behind by its owner.
She picked up the shirt, and pressed it to her face, inhaling deeply. The fabric still smelled of her. Sweat, musk, and a faint floral scent that was uniquely hers. One that still filled her senses even before she pressed the forgotten top to her nostrils to inhale the scents caught there.
She blinked away the first tears.
But they continued to flow unhampered without her consent, and she seemed helpless to stop them as a groan was torn from her throat as her knees simply gave way, and she knelt before her closet, crying into the garment that had been carelessly left behind.
Her heart thudded as a dull ache rose in her chest.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to care. She was a villain. A thief. A mercenary. Bad-to-the-bone evil.
So why was she down on her knees, weeping like a lovesick schoolgirl into a stupid shirt that belonged to her?
She tensed as she heard the fist hammering on the door of her quarters.
"Shego, are you in there? Are you back yet? Tell me if you're back, or not?"
God, what an idiot.
How could she tell him anything if she weren't here?
"Shego," he howled, pounding all the louder.
There was a brief silence, then she heard his predictable muttering as her employer walked away, liking complaining because he couldn't open a jar, or something similar again. Still, she had told him she was going out again tonight. He shouldn't have expected her to be here.
Not that it mattered.
Because she was gone.
She all but crawled to her bed, and lay atop the covers, curling up with the purple top clutched to her like a child's security blanket.
She cried herself to sleep.
"…..And that is when we will… Shego! Are you even listening?"
She lifted her bleary eyes to the blue-skinned fruitcake that was outlining a new master plan that could not possibly fail, but would. She didn't even care these days, because he seemed to thwart himself even before he got started anyway.
Not that it mattered. She wouldn't be coming to help stop their evil plans. Not any longer.
The news still left her numb, and strangely forlorn.
"Shego? Are you all right," Drew asked with unexpected compassion. "Have I been working you too hard? Maybe you need a vacation? Is that it? You want another vacation?"
Shego, who wasn't even bothering to file her nails as usual, shrugged.
It didn't matter.
Not any more.
Ron got back into town late that night.
His mood, as it had been of late, was somber.
The moon was full and bright, but hidden by dark wisps of clouds that seemed to be filling the sky as a storm pushed its way into the area. He didn't pay any heed to them, or the moon as he trudged from the airport on foot, rather than disturb his family at the late hour.
Between his duties to Yamanouchi, and the missions he still tried to carry out in his longtime friend's name, he was starting to drag. His parents felt he should retire, but even if 'Team Possible' retired, Ron Stoppable, Mystical Monkey Master could not. He was still the future of Yamanouchi, and had obligations to Sensei, the ninja school, and his little sister, who was in actuality the Han, a potential source of immense power that would guide the future.
Hopefully to Good, rather than Evil.
Losing KP had not lightened his duties at all. It had only made them feel…..heavier.
With Kim, things had been frantic but fun. Busy, but spirited. She had been his sun. His heart. His very spirit of joy.
Now all he had left was duty.
He froze as he paused at the gates to the cemetery where she lay buried.
He often visited the grave where what was left of her had been buried. It hadn't been much. A bloody, severed hand, and the shattered remains of her Kimmunicator. So little left to mark the passing of a larger-than-life woman who gave everything without asking for anything in turn. A woman that never gave up, and always stood for what was right. Who inspired so many others when she could have just turned her back and taken an easier road.
Something wasn't right tonight.
He sensed more than he saw a slumped, dark shape near the simple grave marked by the ridiculous statue the mayor had insisted on putting up. It was of Kim, standing defiantly in her 'power pose,' looking out across the city from her tomb.
The Drs. P hated it almost as much as he did.
Her brothers still plotted to destroy it, and had even sent it into orbit once.
A year later, it still stood. But the tweebs did have restraining orders to keep them from visiting the site without chaperones. The small pits and imperfections in the once smooth marble suggested the statue had spent a few days in orbit being bombarded by whatever. He still wasn't sure how it had been recovered.
He entered the cemetery as soundlessly as any ninja, and came up behind the kneeling figure. He frowned as he noted the small, colorful bundle set on the ground before the grave marker. The colors were actually familiar, and made him frown all the more.
"What are you doing here," he demanded as the visitor leapt to her feet, tense and ready as if about to fight or flee, then seemed to visibly deflate.
"Stoppable," the older woman murmured, and just looked away. Looked down at the grave where she had left her bundled, familiar costume laying.
"No. Not any more," she said quietly. "I quit. I…..I just came to say…goodbye," she choked, and was suddenly crying.
Ron remembered some of the rumors he had heard at the end. Recalled how Kim would disappear for hours, or even days at a time without a word of explanation. Being the man he was, he didn't press her then.
Now, he wondered.
"You miss her, too."
The bright, green eyes looked over at him, and she only sniffed. "Did they ever…..? Ever f-find….?"
"Just torn cloth, and…..more blood," he told her, remembering.
"Careful, KP," Ron shouted, dropping yet another henchman on the flying lair that belonged to the mad dwarf calling himself Professor Dementor.
This time, the man had the idea he would fly around the world with a portable EMP machine, and shut down every electronic device in the world, leaving his own shielded technology the only surviving, operating machinery in the world which he would use to take over the governments he had sent back to the stone age.
For whatever his reasoning, he began in South America.
Venezuela was screaming about capitalist plots even as Brazil went silent, which brought GJ and Team Possible into the fray. They caught up to the madman just over Peru, and the fight was on.
"Not this time, Kim Possible. This time I am being ready," he howled, and fired a concussive blast from a converted air rifle at Kim even as she stood in the open hatch they had blown open a few minutes ago to gain entry.
"Kim!" Ron shouted, putting down the last henchman as he turned on Dementor in time to see Kim go falling out the hatch.
He ran to the hatch, looking down, and saw her still falling toward the thick, green canopy, trying to use her jetpack wings to glide. Being below the EMP emitter on the flying lair, the jetpack was inoperative, though, and she was falling way too fast to be safe.
"It is now being your turn, buffoon," the helmeted lunatic smiled, and aimed at Ron.
Who leapt into the air, and bounced off the walls of the aircraft to land behind the man, slamming his domed head against the nearest seat several times in succession. He raced down the corridor to the flight cabin, smashed in the door intending to force the pilots to turn around, and gaped at the robotic controls locked by a long, colorful bar attached to both yokes.
"You are too late," Dementor sniggered as he staggered into the bridge. "I anticipated your arrival, and was already planning to leave you to your doom when you were trapped aboard my flying lair that will take you right into the side of the highest mountains in Peru! Nothing can break the Flite-Lock 9000 once it has been installed. And I have thrown the key away, leaving you helpless," Dementor crowed as he wiped away a trickle of blood from his neatly trimmed beard Ron was starting to suspect was dyed.
"Then call me 'nothing,'" Ron spat, and used five quick palm strikes to warp the thick metal bar before a sixth strike from beneath sent the bar clattering free of its grip on the aircraft's controls.
"Impossible! Well, I am still being….."
"Silent," Ron barked, and slammed a hard fist into the side of the helmeted freak's head.
He didn't even show remorse that he might have hit just a bit too hard this time as the very clear imprints of his knuckles were easily visible in the professor's helmet. He had other things to consider.
Sitting behind the controls, he shut down the robot pilot, grateful Kim had made him train on all those simulators last summer now, and turned the aircraft around as he toyed with the communications frequencies after he killed the power to the EMP emitters.
"GJ? Commander Du? It's Stoppable. You there?"
"Waiting on station, Agent Stoppable. Where is Kimberly? Have you reached….?"
"I'm on board, and the emitter is down. I have Dementor. But Kim fell into the jungle. Get Wade to track her, and get someone down there fast. I can't land this thing down there, and she fell hard."
"I am dispatching rescue teams now. I'm sending you coordinates for a GJ landing field in Juanjui."
"Sounds good. Just make sure KP is okay. Oh, and some of his henchmen bailed out in the same area. You might look for them, too."
"We'll handle it," Will Du assured him. "And meet you at Juanjui."
Four hours later, however, Will's people only brought grim and bloody news.
"This was all we found," the ashen-faced agent said as he opened a medical waste container to show a small, calloused hand with a familiar ring on it. The hand had been savaged, all but torn off just above the wrist. Beside the bloody lump of flesh was a shattered, ruined Kimmunicator. It looked like something sharp had gone right through it.
"Kim," Ron gasped. "No. This is impossible….."
"Those forests are full of jaguar, and other predators," the local agent told him. "I'm sorry. We're still searching, but….. From the blood we found on the ground, she likely didn't survive."
Ron's heart turned to stone as he firmly closed that box, and fought the urge to scream.
And tear out Dementor's twisted heart.
Not necessarily in that order.
Instead, he just walked away.
"What are you going to do," Ron asked her quietly as if Shego weren't still wanted after she and Drakken apparently spurned their offered pardon after the Lorwardian thing a few years ago.
Shego's tear-streaked face looked up, and she gave a weak shrug. "I don't know. It doesn't matter."
Ron had the urge to ask why she wasn't celebrating, but he knew better. There was a grudging respect between her and Kim. There always had been. Even he wasn't sure all that was going on, but the two women had a curious dynamic that had them fighting beside one another as often as they fought against one another at times.
Certain rumors claimed that Shego had even gone to South America not long after Kim's death was announced, but came back only a few weeks later. The same week someone had all but killed Professor Dementor, who likely wouldn't be getting out of his wheelchair anytime soon from what the doctors told Wade.
"I kept thinking… She'd be back. She'd show up, and surprise everyone with another miracle, and….. And….."
Shego sagged, and Ron moved to catch her before she fell.
"Are you all right," he asked, literally supporting the usually sardonic woman who trembled like a frightened kitten in his arms.
"She's gone," Shego cried so quietly it was all the more frightening. "She's really gone."
"I know," he murmured quietly, thinking that just three days ago had marked the one year anniversary of Kim's death.
The place had been full of mourners again on that solemn anniversary, with people offering their sympathies from across the world. He was glad he was in China on another mission. He wouldn't have been able to face that kind of circus again. The first one had been bad enough.
"I know," he repeated, and turned and led her out of the cemetery. He didn't even think of calling GJ. Technically, Shego had been written off more than a year ago after she almost tore Drakken's head off when he apparently suggested something truly distasteful to the usually indolent mercenary woman. No one had seen her in all that time until tonight.
It was anyone's guess where she might have been, or what she had been doing.
Drakken, he knew, was still whimpering in prison, praying not to be found by his former 'assistant.'
He once would have headed right for Kim's house. This time, Ron headed for his own.
To Be Continued…