Let Me Go
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Kim Possible. This is merely something I do so I do not go crazy with unused ideas.
Enjoy!
Written to Evanescence, which is basically what I write my sad fics to, so listen to it if you like, it helps to set the mood.
It was a beautiful morning. Puffy white clouds scudded across the smiling face of the sun and the sky was robin's egg blue. It was unusually warm for so early in spring and a myriad of flowers had already poked their heads through the dark soil by two large, wrought iron gates. Nearly everything in sight spoke of nothing so much as joy and life.
Kim Possible hated these days more than any other.
On a day like this almost everyone you saw had a spring to their step, a light in their eye. People greeted friends and strangers alike as they passed in the streets. The exception to this rule was the red-headed former teen hero.
Kim kept her head down as she walked. She seemed shrunken somehow, inverted. Her arms were wrapped around herself as though she felt a chill in the warm air that was indiscernible to everyone else as she approached the tall, black gates.
They stood open, a grim scar in the bright world. They swayed in a light breeze, beckoning, and Kim walked inside, not bothering to brush away the strands of hair that blew across her face like burning cobwebs.
In front of her stretched the rows of headstones, and she threaded her way through them with the ease of long practice. There was only one in the whole graveyard she cared about, only one she came to see.
It was ahead of her, a white marble slab, simple compared with the ones around it. It boasted no elaborate carvings or sculptures, but it stood out from the rest in her eyes. Kim knelt beside the stone. She read the inscription once again, though it was burned in her mind forever.
Ronald Russell Stoppable
Beloved son, Best Friend, hero
1989 - 2006
He died so that others might live
A single tear fell from an emerald eye to land on the earth before the headstone. Kim covered her face with her hands and her head fell on her knees.
"I'm sorry, Ron," she whispered.
"Sorry for what, KP?"
Kim jerked back from the graveside at the familiar voice. He was standing in front of her on the other side of the grave, messy blond hair, freckles and all. Kim choked on a sob.
"Ron?"
He nodded.
"You're dead!"
"Yes."
Kim was tongue tied. She could only watch as Ron moved forward slightly so he could lean on the white headstone with one hand. She gasped softly as he did so, for though he walked in front of a small tree on his way to the grave, he did not obstruct it from her view, and Kim realized that she could also see the ground and sky behind him through his bright, familiar form.
Ron walked slowly around his grave until he was in front of it. He turned his head a bit, reading the headstone. He was now closer to Kim and she was torn between running away, or running to him and hugging him. The result was that she simply sat there with her mouth opening and closing as he read.
Then he laughed that wonderful, carefree laugh of his and Kim suddenly burst into tears. The laugh stopped immediately and she felt him beside her, a comfortable, familiar presence she had not known in two years. A hand touched her shoulder and she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his red jersey. It somehow did not surprise her that she could touch and hold him as though he were still alive. She could always touch Ron.
"I'm sorry, Kim," Ron's ghost said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to make you cry; I wasn't thinking. It was just, my headstone. I never really looked at it before. Funny, I suppose," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I mean, it's all that's left of me and I can't even be bothered to see what it says." He wrapped his arms around her gently and she tightened her hold, breath catching as she sobbed helplessly.
She didn't want to let go, knew somehow that if she did she would never feel these strong, gentle arms again. And for one moment she strove mightily to forget where she was and what was holding her. All that mattered was that it was Ron.
But finally she pulled back. She was still Kim Possible after all, and being Kim Possible meant that whatever was going on she had to get to the bottom of it. It did not cross her mind that she hadn't felt this much like herself for a very long time; since she'd lost Ron. She needed answers, one of which was bothering her most, although to many people in her current situation it probably did not seem the most vital.
"W-What's funny about th-the stone?" Kim asked, voice still shaking from her outburst of sobs.
"Oh, that." Ron seemed embarrassed. His transparent face was tinged scarlet. He glanced at the small monument, cold and noble, forgotten by almost everyone by now. "It's just that that's the first time anyone got my name right," he mused. "I always thought I'd be a little more exhalent when this finally happened."
"Ron," Kim groaned. "Don't joke, please. You…died, I thought I'd lost you."
He took her hands in his, and Kim stared in a kind of mesmerized wonder at her own flesh, still clearly visible through Ron's hands.
"Kim," he said then. "I've been watching you for a long time; ever since I died. I wanted to make sure you were all right." She ducked her head slightly so that her hair swept over her face, a habit that she had recently developed, but he continued speaking. "I've seen how miserable you've been all this time. I've seen you just sit in your room looking at my pictures and crying. You go to Bueno Nacho, but you don't eat, you just sit in our booth. All of your friends…you never see them any more.
"Kim…" She had to look now, had to stare into his gentle, merciless eyes and listen to the voice she thought she would never hear again. "Kim, everyone has moved on; my parents, Rufus – Rufus has moved on, he's happy living with your brothers. Now there's only you. Kim, I know how much you cared for me, but it's been three years now without a happy thought entering your head. Kim, you need to move on too."
"You can't ask me to do that, Ron," Kim almost pleaded. "The way you died…I should have…"
"KP, I chose my death." Kim stopped and simply stared as the ghost of her best friend spoke. "The world was in danger, you were in danger," Ron said seriously. "And I saw what I could do to save everyone. I knew it would kill me, and I accepted that. We should all be so fortunate to choose our deaths and by dying, to save those we love."
Kim was weeping openly now, deep, heart wrenching sobs. She clutched Ron to her as she shook with love and pain. Ron hugged her back, eyes closed, savoring the all the love and closeness that he would never again feel.
"That is why you have to move on," he said when she could look at him once again. "I wanted to save you, Kim, and I don't think I have. I watch you, and every day all I see is you wasting your life away in tears." A sudden, terrible understanding bloomed before Kim's eyes like a poisonous flower.
"That's why you're still here, a ghost," she whispered. "You can't move on until I do."
"Yes." Ron reached out with one translucent hand to gently touch her hairline. "KP, I love you with all my heart, but I've accepted my own death and now I want to rest. It's time for you to move on as well."
"But I don't know how," Kim said.
"It will be hard, much harder than it was to get lost in your grief, but all I'm asking is that you begin."
Kim closed her eyes. She breathed deeply, Ron wanted her to try. She sat there, breathing, feeling the wind, almost meditating, until a deep calm entered into her soul where only wretched tears had dwelt.
She thought of her parents, how worried about her they had been lately, of her friends, Monique kept trying to call her and take her to the mall, and finally of Ron. He had died to save the world, and to save her. The least she could do for him was to let him rest. Ron had always needed lots of sleep. At this thought, a small smile flitted across her mouth and she felt a breath of air against her cheek.
"I love you, KP," Ron whispered. And then she felt an emptiness around her, an absence, and she knew she was alone. Kim opened her eyes and saw only the empty graveyard, and beyond it, the busy street.
The sun was out. When had that happened? She heard birdsong from the tree across the way, and felt the sting of tears as she knew that Ron was now truly gone. She would work at moving on, for Ron. She got up slowly and walked toward the gate back to the living world. She would go home, and perhaps tomorrow she would take Monique up on her offer. Kim had not even thought of Club Banana for three years.
Kim passed through the gate and headed off down the street toward her life. When she was out of site Ron became visible once more and stood watching the place where he had last seen her. He was now solid instead of transparent, and his arms were wrapped around himself as though he had lost everything he ever cared about, and in a way he had. An old man materialized behind him as he stood there, and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"You did the right thing, Stoppable-San. Since she must believe you dead it is best that she moves on and does not dwell and waste her life away."
"Yes, I know," Ron murmured. "I only wish I were not so lonely. But I am glad she will be happy now. Thank you for that, and for letting me say goodbye, Sensei." The old man smiled, then turned and started off through the graveyard, weaving carefully through the tombs without seeming to deviate from his course to do so.
"Come, Chosen One," the sensei called. "We have much work to do."
Ron nodded, although his teacher could not see, and followed the old man without looking back. Kim was in the process of moving on, now he must try to do the same.
Please review and tell me what you think, I am a little worried about how this came out.