Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable became friends at Kindergarten. They both grew out of their respective shells in different times, in different ways, but did so together. They always were together. However, what if, sideways, Ron wasn't just going to eat nachos, or on holidays with his family? What if, instead, he had become a part of something far bigger than him or Kim Possible could ever imagine? And what if everything suddenly came crashing together?
Can their reality ever go back to normal, now that the things kept in the backstage are coming out in the front?
Shadenight123: I regret nothing. I personally give the fault (Jokingly) to Zombie Boy and his Doppler Effect. That and the fact that Prototype 2, Spec Ops the Line and X-com enemy unknown blended together. Plus many other things that will come into play later on. So…yeah, mass crossover in KP universe. Focusing on the shattering of reality as we were used to seeing in their cartoon…(The mention of Spec Ops the line will become evident as time goes by)
It was raining. It was cold. Shivers ran down his skin as he pushed the hood far more over his head. The wind found ways to still harass his cheeks, making his teeth chatter. It had to be below zero degrees, it had to. The boy with blond hair was quiet in his walk. It was a determined walk, never mind the teen was doing so along the catwalk of a nearby building. He had a job to do.
Silently his hands found the ledger of the window below. His feet held his entire weight, as he slowly opened the window. Quietly, he back flipped inside, using his hands as a pivoting point. The window was closed without a hitch or a noise.
In the eerily silence of the room in which the teen had entered, a light green glow slowly illuminated the surroundings.
The room had white walls, and a monitor was softly beeping to the rhythm of an erratic heart. It was a hospital room, and the patient seemed to be hooked to a breathing machine, in a coma. The eyes were closed, and he looked deathly pale.
The green glow came from an ignited hand. The ignited hand of a raven haired and pale skinned woman clad in a black and green outfit. She was eying with a quiet look of disdain and ill-concealed hatred at the teen.
"You're late." She hissed the words as an accusation, and the teen flinched. She was right, obviously, but he couldn't say it out loud. "Can't expect much from you still, can I?"
He looked hurt. At least, he thought he was giving off his hurt face, because the woman recoiled for a moment. Like she had been visibly hit, she lowered her gaze to the side.
"He was awake five minutes ago. You missed his birthday." She commented, snappily. Now she had really hurt him. She could see it in his eyes, in his hands clenching into fists and trembling. The hoodie was white, on the back stood the emblazoned symbols of a sect long forgotten by time. Yet it did not matter, the teen was a teen and the man was the man.
The man was important, and he knew it, he knew he should have been there but he hadn't managed in time. All because of that fucking tracker chip.
"I'm sorry." He whispered back. He was far worse than sorry: he was grieving. Yet it wouldn't bring him back. It wouldn't bring anyone back. Crying doesn't bring back the dead.
"Sorry doesn't cut it." The woman hissed back promptly, "What was it? What's the excuse this time around?"
There she went again. He was sure, had this been a normal conversation, in a normal café, that he would consider her jealous. Yet he also knew this wasn't a normal conversation, they weren't in a café and she wasn't jealous. She was furious, yes, because once more, him being him, he had been late to deliver his promise.
Yet he had promised, hadn't he?
"There was…" He slowly moistened his lips with a light darting of his tongue. What could he say? That the rain made it difficult to jump from building to building? That he had slipped? That he had encountered someone he knew and stopped to chat? That his parents had kept him at home for a long time? "Traffic."
"Traffic." The woman whispered back, growling slightly. "Don't fuck with me. You know better. So it was the princess, wasn't it?"
He knew she'd get to her eventually. He just hoped his brain could find some sort of smarter way to calm her down, to calm down Shego.
"It wasn't Kim's fault." He retorted. It was just her overly paranoid persona and the fact that he was too good of an actor. Playing dumb earned him a nice leash and a fancy collar. Maybe he should have played at least a little bit the smart part.
"No? You know what? Next time you come here waiting for two hours for him to wake up and, when he does, hear him utter a couple of words about where Ron is and why he isn't here." She hissed, taking a step forward, to face the teen, "Be late again, be damn late even for a single second again and I swear to god I'll hit you with the most scorching ball of plasma I can manage."
He didn't reply. The murderous look in Shego's eyes was there, but he too had a look on him: it wasn't murderous, as much as it was that of the guilty. The woman had all the right to be angry at him, and he knew it. He knew this was important, and he had no excuses for it. He knew he had hurt him again, just like he had hurt her. Yet he couldn't keep this up.
"I know. I'm sorry." He whispered, casting a glance towards the bed and the figure that was resting within its premises.
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Ron." Shego snarled, "I want more than empty words."
He winced, closing his eyes for a moment. He knew that eventually he'd have to choose. He just didn't want it to be right there and then.
"What is it?" He asked. Whatever it was, he hoped it wasn't the outing. He could live without having a solar plexus, or without the collarbone. Maybe he could live also without half of his ribs, but he didn't know if he'd survive being ousted.
"Break up with the princess." Shego muttered, "I know why you're late, and I don't like it Ron." Her tone turned softer, her eyes too cast a worried glance over the teen's features.
He was about to protest, he was about to open his mouth and say that he couldn't, because it would ruin everything, everything they had worked hard to achieve, but Shego silenced him. Her hand gripped his mouth and shut it tightly.
"He was there for you always." She hissed, "Why can't you be here for him when he needs you?"
He tensed, why those words? Those guilt laced words that managed to make him feel like the most miserable man in the world? Maybe because they were truthful, after all.
"I…I can't…He wouldn't want me to break my cover." He replied, he knew it was a bad line, from a cheesy film, but he hoped, he damn hoped it would work.
"Never break from cover," she murmured, and Ron saw the look in the girl's eyes filling with fond memories. "He was an asshole, wasn't he?"
"The one and only," he chuckled back, but it came out wrong. It came out grim and sad. "I'm sorry."
"I know." Shego replied, shaking her head, "It's just…the day. I hate this day."
It was the day that the meteorite crashed on earth. It was the day that Shego and her brothers discovered the mineral within it. It was the day that he witnessed the fall of his friend and the rise of a group of heroes.
"Is there any progress?" He had to ask, but he knew the answer. Had there been a progress, then he would have known. He would have been there. He would have funded the thing with his own trust funds had there been one. But there wasn't. There was nothing to help him. To help the man, the one to whom he owned everything.
"No." The raven haired woman replied softly, "There's never any progress."
"Drakken…" He started, but a low growl was all it took to keep him quiet.
Shego paced the room silently, fuming for a moment. Her hands began to give way to small amounts of plasma, lighting the room up.
"He offered to clone him." Shego murmured, "I broke half of his bones and left him there."
Ron snickered, quietly.
"Wasn't one of his dreams a clone army? To take over the world for nerds and geeks?"
Shego smiled faintly, before nodding quickly.
"Yeah, and then remove each and every nuclear weapon from all superpowers, and use them to launch a massive war against the enemy from beyond the veil of space and time, for…" her voice was a bit bubbly, albeit still in a low tone, like she was afraid of waking up the sleeping man.
"For in the final hour, all must bow to the one true Kangaroo leader." He finished the sentence with a grave voice. The one that seemed like the imitation of the Warcraft Three Lich King, but he too couldn't help the snicker turning into a low chuckle.
"Even like that he cheers us up, doesn't he?" Shego murmured, looking once more to the prone figure in the hospital bed. Sadness once more interlaced with her words, as she let out a small sigh.
"Tomorrow we're back to being enemies, but tonight, we're friends, right?" He queried, but he already knew the answer. He always knew the answer to that question.
"We could always be friends…if you dropped the princess."
He didn't even flinch when she tried once more that approach. He simply shook his head, and whispered back.
"Bradford's serious with her." He muttered back, "He wants her in the program."
Shego's hand curled into fists, as she turned to listen to slow and deliberately noisy steps coming from the hallway. He listened to the noise too. He knew what that noise was, after all.
He knew also that the noise was coming from a woman, because he knew that woman very well, just like Shego did too.
That was why neither of the two tried to hide, when the door opened.
"Mercer," Shego growled, "visitors hours are over: only family can stay."
The woman had short, brown, spiked hair, while her eyes were silver blue. She wore a grey hoodie with a grey and black striped shirt underneath. She also wore a short denim skirt with a pair of black tights and a pair of red sneakers. She didn't even appear to have been hit by the light drizzle that had seemed to be consuming the city.
"Shego," he warned quietly, "We're all family in here."
The raven haired woman merely gave back to Ron a heated glare. "You know what she suggested."
It was a statement, not a question or an accusation. It was still something that made her unwelcomed, at least in the eyes of the woman.
"I suggested a way out for him," Dana whispered, "Blacklight is…"
"A fake and you know it. Hell, New York is… -was- proof enough, before it was obliterated." Shego's reply was only met with a cold gaze of indifference from Dana, who replied.
"Alex used bloodtox, and it worked. The infection was controlled and removed."
"Still three millions deaths, because of a broken vial...would you risk it for him?" Shego's word had barely left her throat that she had raised her right hand, to silence the other woman, "No, you're right. I'd do it too…but no. He wouldn't want that."
The Kimmunicator sprung to life for a second, beeping erratically and wheezing within the teen's jacket, and the world stilled for a second.
"Ron? You there?" A half-asleep Kim queried, albeit the communicator hadn't been taken out of the jacket.
"zzz…nacho…" He mumbled, his voice mockingly imitating what he'd sound like when he was asleep.
"Listen, I know it's late and all…but we have a situation with Dementor in Russia. Wade called in a favor for a passage, I'm coming around in five minutes: time to get dressed." The Kimmunicator beeped once more, and then Shego growled.
"I'm sorry." He whispered backing away from the furious woman, while heading towards the window, "I don't know if I'll get there in five minutes…"
"Plead somnambulism," Dana suggested, as he waved at the teen leaving. "He'll never get back to Middleton in five minutes," she added in a low murmur to Shego.
"He's at fault," the raven haired woman replied, "He should have dropped the princess, like I asked him to do, repeatedly."
Dana merely rolled her eyes, before turning to leave.
In the silence of the room, the faint beeps of the heart machine grew up of a single digit. Yet nothing changed.
Ron Stoppable dashed through the catwalks, jumping from roof to roof while the rain messed his hair. He knew it was a lost cause to try and get back to Middleton within five minutes. There was just no way to do that, but it didn't stop him from trying.
Until you die, never stop trying. The words echoed in his head, as he bit his lower lip while grabbing with his right hand a rusty metal eave and pulling himself upwards. The movement was fluid and done with ease, yet the building had to be old, because it creaked after Ron's effort.
He didn't stop to look back. His mind was in the gutters, literally trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he was not home in the middle of the night, or why he had feigned being asleep. There was no way Kim would let a lie go without triple checking it.
"You could have told me you were sleeping at a friend in Go City," Kim commented, looking over Ron's haunted face. "You alright?" She asked, worry in her voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine…what's the sitch?" He replied, his eyes looking to the pilot of the Blackhawk who was giving them the 'passage' within the Russian border.
"Professor Dementor was sighted in Russia, acquiring illegal and highly unstable weaponry from the 'gray market'." Wade piped in through the Kimmunicator.
"Gray market?" Kim queried. "Isn't it supposed to be the black market?"
Thankfully, neither Wade nor Kim realized that he had been having a slight panic attack. The gray market? Dementor had been given the codes for the gray market? Just who, sane of his mind, would have given an evil mastermind the codes for alien technology?
Ron didn't know. He frankly did not know. What he knew was that Kim could not be introduced to the project, not yet. He had to connect to Bradford, in some way. It was then that something caught his eyes, hanging quietly from the Blackhawk's pilot's seat. It was nothing more than a small pentagon.
Yet that seemed to ease him down considerably, considering how it stood with the point downwards. It was obvious. This wasn't really a mission to stop Dementor…it was the test.
His heart calmed down, as his ears finally went back to hearing what Kim and Wade were saying.
"I'm telling you Kim, it's the gray market he's going at."
"And I'm pretty sure it's the black market." She replied. She had never been one to be proved wrong. Ron shook slowly his head, clearing it. Kim never knew the meaning of the words loss, mistake or wrong.
"Kim, Wade's right." He spoke clearly. He was thankful that Rufus wasn't with him, because otherwise he'd be forced to leave him on the chopper.
It was at that moment that the pilot of the chopper decided to make his own voice known.
"You know! I never thanked you for saving my m…"
"And how would you know?" Kim snapped back. There she went. He knew she'd go defensive the moment anything came close to menacing her world. It was one of the reasons she hadn't been introduced to the program sooner: possible risk of nerve shattering traumas.
That and many didn't even get a whiff of the program until it was too late.
"I can't tell you." He replied quietly. If the pilot had butted in on the conversation, then it didn't take a genius to understand that she was going in solo for this.
Ron hoped vividly it was sectoids. He was pretty certain Kim could manage one or two plasma shooting sectoids. He'd barge in on the Mutons however. Thin men were a bit of a stretch, but he knew she could do it. Mutons were a different story however.
Never, ever, go unprepared against a Muton…and a Chrysalid…may god have mercy on you.
"So, you don't know," Kim retorted. "Or you're hiding something." He snorted. It took the perception of a brick wall to understand that. Heck, even a completely asleep Rufus could have pointed that out.
"Did you just…snort at me?" She asked, shocked and perplexed.
Wade was silent, but Ron knew he was listening on the conversation, so why not throw the boy the bait?
"I am watchful. I am confident. Vigilo. Confido. Kim…I'm sorry," he murmured, "but you're on your own."
Then he stood up, grabbing the parachute from the side and hooking the grapple with the metal bar that stood atop his head. He prepared himself for launch, as a shocked Kim looked at him.
"Ron? You're starting to scare me." She exclaimed, "If this is some sort of Moodulator thing, we can solve this, you know?"
He shook his head once more, looking at the watch on his left wrist.
"Sergeant Ronald Stoppable, support class, enters the fray at current coordinates." Then, he threw himself out of the chopper.
On second thoughts, he could have avoided all of that. He should have kept quiet all the way. Yet that day…he hated that day. It never made him able to think properly. Now he had said far more than what he should have. He was sure the commander would close an eye for this.
At least, he hoped that would be the case.
He jumped down, letting the wind howl in his ears as his vision grew slightly blurry from the speed of the descent. Silently, his eyes focused on the scenery beneath him that was assuming far more defined forms. Buildings made of old brick walls, a disused railway system, nothing more than the suburbs where homeless people tended to live in Russia. Yet, in the middle of all that, there were alien life forms moving around.
His watch beeped, twice, before a familiar voice echoed into his ears.
"Sergeant Stoppable, it's been a long time," Bradford buzzed, "You are clear to go. Assist team Alpha in the abduction mission. We have satellite coverage over your position: you are inbound for location in two minutes."
He back flipped in the air, before opening wide his arms and legs, and finally opening up his parachute at the correct height for a silent glide down.
"Skyranger is already deployed," Bradford piped in, "Team's made of rookies and a veteran."
"Devil dog?" Ron queried, only to receive a far rougher voice in the ear as a reply.
"You'd be wrong Stoppable! It's good old Road Block here."
He sighed in relief. 'Road Block', sergeant of heavy class, was a known name. The rookies were in safe hands.
"Bradford, got to ask: why is our 'Chicken' Stoppable here?" The gruff voice belonged to an equally gruff looking man of at least two meters of height. Ripped muscles emerged from the dyed black armor, while in his hands he held a heavy laser gun. His hair was buzzed short, and a scar over his left eye had luckily avoided taking the ocular appendage together with the eyebrow. Not that it would have stopped Road Block. He was the one who did the stopping.
"I'm not Chicken anymore!" Ron snapped back in the com-link of the watch, "Is there any armor for me at land zone?"
"We got a Rookie one: it'll feel like good old times, won't it?" The man snarled back with a deep chuckle, "Now move your ass Ronald! We're freezing waiting for your skinny behind!"
Ron merely narrowed his eyes, before letting go of the parachute's safety and free falling the remaining meters. He landed upon a metallic chopper, of strange size, width and length, and from there he swiftly jumped down again, straight on the shoulders of Road Block.
Then, among the scared and startled rookies, he back flipped from the man's shoulders to the ground, sporting a cheesy grin.
"Poor little Blocky got poop in his pants?"
"This, guys, is what I hope you might never become," Road Block rolled his eyes pointing at Stoppable, "Sometimes, I think death is preferable to being like Stoppable here."
"Why sir?" A rookie girl spoke in a pipsqueak voice. She had long blond hair tied in a ponytail, while the assault rifle seemed to be uncomfortable within her arms. She had clear European origins, probably Greek.
"Squaddie Greta: this is Sergeant 'Chicken' Stoppable, the only man known to have panicked and defeated a Muton nevertheless…the nickname stuck because he ran away half of the time though…" As Road Block explained, Ron swapped his clothes for the safety of the X-Com armor.
"And I'm still alive. Can't go around flinging bazookas every time something moves like you, right?"
"There is a difference between playing it safe and being a Chicken." Road Block explained, "Anyway, I'm in command for the mission…or does the Sergeant wants the honor?"
Bradford piped in immediately, bringing the Rookies to attention in a second, while Road Block and Ron merely looked at each other with a little snicker.
"Sergeant Road Block's in charge. There are no civilians in the area. Miss Possible has been baited." A sour look passed over Ron's face for a moment, "And you are there to see how she acts against the alien menace while swiping away the Sectoids you encounter. Do avoid giving away your position."
"And you put Road Block in charge?" Ron muttered, "Why not Devil Dog or Doc? Lockdown?"
"They're dead, Smokes." This time Road Block used his real nickname, and this time, Ron knew he was being serious.
"Oh," Stoppable whispered, "That's why we're pushing through with Kim, right?"
"Got no choice. We're recruiting anyone and anything. Shivs are barely making the cut by now," Road Block spoke again, "Anyway! Let me present our friendly batch of rookies!" Road Block spoke with a light cheerful tone, and then pointed his finger at the European girl.
"This darling here with blond hair and pretty blue eyes is Greta, she's Greek and top of the class in athletics...she's single and twenty-four years old." The burly man whispered in a mocking tone, so that everyone could actually hear him, "And she's got a thing for older, gruff men."
The woman rolled her eyes, but gave a nod of recognition to Ron.
"This here is Edward," Road Block explained again, pointing at a red haired man with pale skin and freckles on his face. His eyes were a charming light green color, and he seemed to sport the broadest chest in the squad…barring Road Block, but the man wasn't normal to begin with.
"He's Scottish, but we convinced him to ditch the battle gown."
"It's called a Kilt," the man snapped back, "and I'm proud to be part of X-com project sir."
"Yeah, he's a bit of an ass-licker, but he's going to grow out of that soon enough." Edward said nothing, instead choosing to merely show his distaste in the form of an angry scowl.
"This big boy here is John Smith, the most common name in the entire frigging America," Road Block spoke once more, pointing at a skin colored black man, with dark brown eyes, who seemed to be confidently holding his rifle with ease.
"A pleasure to meet you Sarge!" The man replied with a broad grin, as Ron merely nodded.
"Finally we got our good little Asian girl, Li Liu," Road Block added, finishing his 'tour' of the rookie squad with a strangely blond haired and really dark tanned Chinese girl, "She's some sort of…I don't know the word, fashion-girl? Anyway it's in vogue in Japan, not around here," the heavy class man shrugged.
"Ganguro, it's called Ganguro, sir!" The Chinese woman replied hotly, only for Stoppable to stop for a second and take in a deep breath.
"Canguro…Kangaroo…everywhere," he chuckled, "I say she survives this mission, Road Block," he added, "Kangaroo and all, you remember?"
"Not you too," Road Block replied rolling his eyes, "Trust me, I'm starting to think that they're going mad at the ant farm."
"Huh?" He raised his eyebrow, looking with perplexity at the bigger man, "What's this and headquarters?"
The buzzed short haired man sported a cheeky grin, before whispering.
"Been a while since you spoke to Dr. Vahlen, huh?"
Ron nodded, but then the watch beeped again, and everyone, this time, stood to attention.
"If you're finished catching up, I suggest you get your asses moving! We have Possible engaging Dementor's goons at the predetermined location, and Sectoids are on the move-out."
"We're going now Bradford! Keep your whisky ready: we're going to be baptizing a new recruit soon enough!" And then, the six soldiers descended into quiet silence.
-Move, take cover, and watch before moving again-
-Flank the right side of the buildings-
-Move together, but keep distance to avoid grenades-
-Careful at corners-
-All clear in the building-
-Noise coming from north-east sector-
-Smokes ready to engage-
-Edward, you got movement coming your way-
-Got it Road Block, Greta cover me-
-I'm at your six, Edward-
Quiet murmurs became buzzed as commands straight into the ears of the soldiers, as the compact group made its way through the not so silent any longer streets. They were herding the Sectoids…not that the 'gray men' thought anything about it.
The sky was barely starting to lighten up, when first contact was established.
Squaddie Edward held his rifle steady, as he came face to face with a grey skinned, wide amber eyed alien with an overly pulsing with light belly. The shots of the rifle pierced through the thick grey skin, as the wounded creature let out a startled cry. Li Liu shot soon afterwards, giving the creature the last push to embrace death.
Edward breathed quietly, his hands tightly gripping upon the assault rifle he had been issued with. This was good. He had done well. Everything was going to be fine now.
-MOVE TO COVER-
Edward barely registered the order, as Li Liu instead bolted out of there, into the nearby broken window of the brick building. A small pulsating green metallic ball came into view, landing softly at Edward's feet.
The soldier saw the ball, and the next moment a scorching wave of plasma hit him as his skin separated from his body. The Scottish soldier fell on the ground, the entirety of his body covered in third degrees burns or worse.
Li Liu's back was pressed against the brick wall of the building. From outside, she could hear the heavy steps of a clearly bigger than normal alien.
The noises reached clearly into Bradford's pad, and from there were redirected to the rest of the squad.
-Squaddie Edward has died-
"Screw the world," Ron whispered, "It's a Muton."
"Oh shit just got real," Road Block retorted, his Bazooka suddenly on his shoulder, "You got the smokes in that suit?"
"I got them on my person, always." The teen replied, holding a small red sphere within his hand, "Let's hope Greta and John can herd better."
"You never know…"
With that, the two sergeants moved quickly through the unused brick buildings, quietly trying to reach for the last known position of Edward, from where the silent sobs of Li Liu were coming too. The girl was probably panicking right now. And who wouldn't panic at the sight of a Muton? Those things were nasty. When they came in groups it was even…
"Shit." Ron cussed, as the scene came into view. Li Liu was surrounded by Mutons.
Three of them. Three damn monsters in sickly green armor with muscles the size that made Armstrong look like the nerdy kid at school, wielding plasma guns that fired things worse than what Rambo could. Yet as they stood there, surrounding the sobbing woman, Road Block aimed with care and silence at the center of the three beasts.
"Morality check: Do I take the shot?" He asked quietly.
"Death on impact assured?" Ron whispered quietly, as he could just see the closest Muton to the woman move a bit closer, sniffing the hair out of the girl. Probably the make-up did distract the beast a bit. Probably.
"They won't be walking out of it."
"Go with it then…I'll throw a grenade together with it," Ron swallowed the nervousness in the pits of his stomach, as the telltale sign of the missile being launched caught the attention of the Mutons, and of the scared woman.
She had thought they'd make a distraction and bait her out. Hadn't the sergeant said that 'Kangaroo' was something lucky? Then why was the grenade nearing her too? Wasn't she a…hero?
Both explosions tore down side of the brick walls, the building dangerously menacing to fall down as bits and pieces of alien equipment flew in the air together with exploding plasma rifles and the corpse of Li Liu. Chunks of smoldering flesh of various types and colors splattered all around the area, and Ron merely repressed a shudder.
"Kangaroo." He muttered, gritting his teeth as he stood back up, holding his rifle steadily.
"Kangaroo." Road Block muttered.
-Squaddie Li Liu has died-
Anything was granted. Everything was possible. As long as the aliens' deaths outnumbered theirs, friendly fire was permitted.
Li Liu would be known to have died in the line of duty, a small pension for her family would be set apart, just like for Squaddie Edward, and nobody would ask just who or why she had died.
That…that was X-com procedure.
And Kim Possible would soon be entered into it…