Work Text:
*
It suits her that the Christmas cheer warped itself into chaos. Shego loves a good fight.
Outracing her foe, Kim Possible leads everyone from the hypersonic aircraft containing her family and friends. They'll be safer. Shego doesn't want them in a fight anyway. She wants Kim. She wants to throttle her neck until it is bruised and watch the light fade out of Kim's eyes.
Shego chases after her, the jet-powered snowboard Shego straps herself in rocketing along.
A while ago, Dr. Drakken radioed it in for a group of his henchmen, and they follow Shego and Kim on their stolen snowmobiles. Shego's transmitter and the communication line goes haywire, interrupted by the raging winter-storm. Merry freakin' Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!
Exhilarated, Shego hoots and powers up her hands until the radiation-energy flares.
She throws eruptions of glowing green and black, searing snow. Whatever doesn't melt into boiling hot water and steam, it chars darkly.
"Nowhere to gooooooooo, Kim!"
Chasing her teenage foe further, Shego veers ahead.
Over the rushing winds, one of Dr. Drakken's henchmen yells. He fails to use a laser ray gun on Kim's back. Kim turns and releases a cable of zip-line, wrapping his arms together. Yelling much more terrified, the henchman pitches off a snowmobile onto hard, silvern patches of ice.
Unnoticed by Shego, another henchman pulls out a revolver.
And shoots haphazardly.
One of Dr. Drakken's other henchmen, closer to Kim, swerves to avoid a bullet—and nearly crashes into Shego. "Watch it, dork!" she screeches.
A second, stray bullet ricochets Kim's engine.
But, the last one hits its intended target. She collapses forward, with Kim's snowmobile accelerating only to violently roll over. Its engine leaks gasoline. Shego victoriously powers down her own jet-snowboard, coming over. She snatches onto Kim, Shego's green-gloved fingers alight.
"Aww!" Shego mocks a croon, hunching in, as Kim breathlessly struggles. "What's the matter, princess? Now's not the time to be a sore loser—"
Wait a minute...
Blood brightly gleams on the pink thermalwear-suit. Shego gazes down to a faint, bright crimson handprint, Kim's handprint, in the white, powdery snow. Kim? Kim, bleeding out of the left side of her chest, momentarily crying out in pain as a stunned-looking Shego examines her?
No...
Kim's face twists up, her cheeks losing heat and blotching pink.
This isn't right...
Dr. Drakken's henchman, the one responsible for shooting Kim, marches over.
Shego gazes up, her eyes icier than what's around them.
The other henchmen flinch when she approaches. Her outline pulses in a incandescent green-glow. Shego's voice, slow and dangerously rising, "Since when... were we using... REAL BULLETS?!" Flinging it out of his opened snow-gloves, she bellows—"YOU EFFING MORON! IT'S OVER!"
He mumbles something under his breath about Drakken not specifying if Kim Possible was needed 'dead or alive'...
...'Or'?
At zero point in time... during the mission... was Dr. Drakken ordering them to kill Kim Possible!
(Shego would have known! It's SHEGO'S job! And this no-named stooge couldn't ever be given the PRIVILEGE of ending anyone's arch-foe!)
Livid, she slashes across the henchman's torso.
Red starts gushing from the wide, jagged shred-marks glowing, then his intestines spilling. Quickly, he drops dead.
Around her, Dr. Drakken's other henchmen flinch, as if next, and take off on stolen snowmobiles.
No...
*
No radio signal.
It was already a bust, Shego realizes. Getting out communication. Especially while being unable to escape a winter storm.
"Damn it..." Shego mutters, cleaning off her green gloves once more in the newly fallen snow. Hopefully that's gonna be clean enough. Kim whines, shivering in place, as Shego's fingertip digs into the exposed, blood-slickening gristle of Kim's wound. There's too many fragments.
Whatever the bullet hit, when it hit Kim, it exploded somewhere inside of her.
Kim's rolled-over and damaged snowmobile provided a med-kit. Shego went right for the alcohol preps and gauze dressing, jamming a penlight between her teeth while initially checking the damage on her arch-nemesis. Even if a snowmobile worked, Shego couldn't move her. Not like this.
(Shego's supposed to be on an all-expenses paid vacation. Covered in sunblock. Having a fruity drink. Not stuck somewhere in the North Pole.)
"Hrrrm, hmm."
"Keep it down over there. I'm working," Shego nastily remarks—and at the same time, she gently removes another bullet-fragment.
*
Field medicine isn't her gig. She's no freakin' nurse and don't got the bedside manners for it either. Just ask Hego.
"I swear... you're not dying on me."
"R'lly?"
"Yes, duh. Obviously."
*
Eventually, Shego has to tear open more of Kim's snowsuit. This was so whacked. This was never the place for emergency surgery.
Hypothermia, on top of losing blood, on top of dehydration and uncontrollable shivering...
Most of Kim's snow-flecked skin chilly. But also, a kind of fever-flushed.
Removing another metal shard—one down, too many to go—Shego grumbles, while Kim's hand shakily holds the penlight. It has for a while.
"Say something already, Kimmy. You're getting me worried."
"...what?"
At the confused look, Shego tsks. "Nothing. You're hearing things—hey, by the way, you die when I SAY you die, got it? And it's not here." Her pale green expression hardens. "Besides, isn't there some lame as hell Christmas party you gotta get to? The 'bobbing for cider' crap?"
Kim starts to tearfully grin, all of Kim's bright crimson hair damp from snow and sweat.
Her head lolls.
"Hey," Shego whispers, dropping the medical-grade pliers to touch Kim's forehead. She's getting warm. More fevery. "Look at me. You'll be back to getting your butt kicked by me in no time, Kimmy. You'll see. So keep your head up and your eyes open, or I'll won't wait to kick your butt."
Even while getting threatened, Kim's lips grin.
Shego reaches for the roll of zinc oxide tape, wondering if she should have built a fire first.
*
There's too many.
"I'm... not gonna mm-make it, am I, Shh-ego?"
"Holy guacamole, will you let up on that?" She scowls, letting herself feel a twinge of the usual annoyance Kim Possible makes her feel. "Relax already, okay? I know what I'm doing. Dr. D gets hurt all of the time, and I'm usually the only one who knows how to stitch him back up."
It's been a few minutes since Kim lowered the penlight switched on, getting too weak.
"Thannks..."
While working, as quickly as the dropped body adjacent, Shego hides a smirk.
"I know I was complaining about you not saying much, but... are you sure you want to say this? You want to thank me?"
It is so much bright blood, with the North Pole's snow melting red.
"Thhnks... Sshego."
For a moment, Shego hesitates, noticing sincerity and sweetness in Kim's eyes.
That snowy, pink gloved-hand brushes Shego's face, then it twitches and goes completely rigid.
Kim's eyes dart.
She seizes.
"No!" Shego hollers, trying to get it to stop.
Then, it does—Kim's breath no longer frosting the air. And the light fades out of Kim's eyes. And Shego watches, dismayed.
"No, no, come on!"
No chest compressions. No resuscitation. No nothing can be felt against Kim's chapped, dry, and soft lips.
Shego growls for her to wake the hell up... wake up... this isn't right and I can't do any of this without you... please....
It brings back a faint memory of when Dr. Drakken and Shego fought against Kim Possible and Kim Possible's sidekick, in Canada, a year ago. They all ended up going up against each other AND Killigan, who showed up late. But still effectively a villain. He zapped Shego and left her to drown in the nearby reservoir. Kim swam out, determined to not fail her own mission, and hauled an unconscious and injured Shego out.
Shego came to with Kim's lips over hers, wet with cool mildewy lake-water. And, Kim smiled in relief down on her enemy, petting back Shego's wet, black hair and asking if Shego could feel this. Shego could. Shego also felt strangely humiliated with how her own face burned green-pink.
Kicking her away, body-flipping up, Shego took off for Dr. Drakken's helicopter and the ladder blowing out of it...
And never looked back and saw Kim's disappointment...
It took too long. She's looking now.
Numbed, Shego realizes it's been almost an hour of sitting with Kim's body on Shego's black-and-green snowsuit knees. Ice crusts Shego's lashes.
Not far away comes a rattly gasp.
The henchman...
Not alive or dead, but dying...
Shego's numbness transforms, flames into something purer than blinding rage.
He still stands a chance, but not Kim Possible...
"No," Shego decides in a murmur, getting up. Leaving Kim where she is. Picking up the revolver and cocking the hammer.
With a burst of her energy-powers, it is shredded from existence....
Those little, henchmen eyes widen, panicked, as Shego's powers flare more noticeably brighter...
*
In the distance up the mountain, at Shego's back, her green glowing radiation-cloud hovers.
Halfway down, the Xtrem Xmas crew finds them.
The live camera pointed on Shego trudging through the winter storm, carrying a very dead Kim over Shego's shoulder. The blood no longer bright.
"Um..."
"Got a way to Switzerland?" she monotones, ignoring the host's agitation. "An old friend from the Middle East owes me a favor."
This isn't right...
But, in the end, they'll have Kim Possible again—Shego knows it—just in time for New Year's Eve.
*