Here it is, the long awaited final chapter of my first fanfic (first real one anyway…), "Death, and After That…" I want to thank my brother; for telling me this fic's concept was impossible, My overactive imagination; without which I would be able to sleep at night. And lastly, my loyal Beta-Reader, Ffordesoon, who I bugged and annoyed for well over a month until this fic reached some semblance of literary coherency. Any dialogue that's even a little witty in these last two chapters, is Fford's fault. Blame him for being so damn good.

I do not own Kim Possible, Disney does, and I also don't own Gungrave: Overdose, Red Entertainment does. This fanfic is non-profit fun and will be removed from the net the moment someone of status decides to bitch at me.

Death, and After That…

Epilogue: Life After Death

"Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…"


A steady mechanical rhythm assaulted disused ears and roused the sleeper from her silent dreamless slumber. Over and over again, the banal tone chirped with electronic precision. Never missing a beat, always in perfectly measured intervals. The sound continued to reverberate through the sleeper's eardrums.

It was incredibly grating.

"Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…"

Grr, what the hell is that racket? That noise is so fucking annoying

Razor-sharp teeth ground together in growing frustration. With each passing moment, the tone seemed to get louder and more obnoxious.

"Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…"

A pair of clawed digits suddenly clenched shut with an audible twisting of tendons. Stiff shoulders shuddered and a smooth brow furrowed in rage. Gah! You asked for it, asshole! I'm gonna get up and… huh?

Almost instantly, anger melted away leaving behind equal parts confusion and curiosity. Something regarding these events was not adding up.

I'm-I'm hearing things? That… That must mean… Impossible, there's no way…

Slowly, with cautious hesitation a pair of pale-jade eyelids began to part, opening up to the outside world. Within a second's time, a pair of vibrant emerald eyes was exposed to soft white light. For the first time in who-could-say, the sleeper was awake.

Once again, Shego was alive.

How in the hell… Shego's vision was blurred and unfocused, both very familiar symptoms of reanimation. Her nerves tingled with dull sensation and her equilibrium seemed to shift from side-to-side as though she were drifting through the ocean in a leaking dinghy.

When feeling finally returned to her skin, a familiar sensation could be felt along her wrists, ankles, and neck.

The chair! NO!

Looking down suddenly to view where she currently sat, Shego fully expected a chilling view of harsh black metal and aggressive restraints. Instead the sight was almost the exact opposite. Pure white cushions, instead of rivet-covered steel, long tubes feeding into dark blue bracelets and anklets leaving her arms free movement. No drill-like needles burrowing into her veins.

Reaching up, Shego could feel a similar ring around her neck. She also appeared to be clothed in some kind of thin hospital gown and slippers.

With a sudden hiss, the bracelets, anklets, and necklace suddenly detached with a snap and retracted into ports along the seat. The beeping stopped along with it.

I'm, …am I still… like that? If I was plugged in like before then I guess that's a definite yes… Damn... That revelation left Shego's emotions in a jumbled mess.

Yes, she was happy to be back, from… she wasn't sure where, but she was certainly happy to be back. However, she was back as whatever the hell she had been turned into. That didn't exactly leave Shego with a wealth of options. Living from transfusion to transfusion, neither able to eat or sleep... that wasn't any kind of life; not for her, not for anyone else.

What was she even supposed to call herself? Drakken called her a D.E.A.D., but that was just asinine. If Shego was gonna be stuck like this, than she would certainly come up with a better term than that.

During this mental deliberation, Shego's vision cleared up to the point that she could assess the room she currently resided in. The walls, floor, ceiling, everything was pure blinding white and sterile as a hospital room or laboratory.

Hell, with my luck this probably is a laboratory. Hey, how long was I even out this time?

A row of monitoring equipment lined the right wall beside the seat; each screen seemed to be dedicated to recording information on Shego even as she watched. For the most part they were unrecognizable save for a monitor focused on her brain's activity.

As she continued to look over the white chamber, she noticed the white door at the far end. There didn't appear to be any doorknob, just a keypad. Did that mean she was a prisoner? Like hell she was. If she had been brought back to life only to be imprisoned and studied, then she would be perfectly happy to show her keepers her... "gratitude."

Slowly, Shego looked to her left and quickly jumped to her feet with a start. She apparently wasn't the only person in the room.

A young woman Shego didn't immediately recognize sat to her far left on the edge a metal folding chair. The woman appeared to be somewhere between her early-to-mid twenties. Long, shiny auburn hair was tied over her shoulder in a loose ponytail. She wore a tidy white lab coat over a white button-up blouse, and a dark blue knee length skirt. A thin pair of reading glasses rested on her nose in front of a pair of reflective olive eyes.

The woman seemed tense, with her hands clasped tightly together and her eyes wide in anticipation. The woman opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself and swallowed nervously.

Kim's mom? Who else could it be?

"Uh… D-Dr. Possible? 'S that you? H' long was I out?" Shego finally managed to ask. Her voice was hoarse with disuse, but the words came out clear enough.

At her question, the young woman's eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly a quick relieved laugh floated up from the young woman's throat, and she smirked closing her eyes, and reaching up to remove her glasses. When she finally looked up again, Shego could see thin trails of liquid running down her eyes. A sad smile was pulled across the woman's full lips.

"Welcome back, Shego," the woman said, before she ran forward and threw her arms tightly around the pale woman's chest.

Too shocked by the sudden action to respond, Shego simply continued to look down at the woman in confusion before finally finding the courage to respond. "Who… who are…"

Not bothering to look up, the woman shook her head into Shego's shoulder and laughed. "Idiot. I told you, didn't I? I w-wouldn't let it end like that. I told you, I save everyone..."

Suddenly, a seemingly recent memory assaulted Shego's mind, a memory remarkably similar to this very moment. It contained a crying redhead as well, and a solemn promise. Almost reflexively, Shego's arms rose up and wrapped tightly around the redhead's back, holding her softly.

Shego wished she could cry along with her, she certainly felt like that would hit the spot.

Apparently Kim Possible kept her promises; the amount of years required to follow through on them didn't matter.

Y'know what? I don't care if I'm like this. Really. I honestly don't give a shit. I'm done complaining about second chances, I'm done whining and moping and getting all angsty just because of some shitty circumstances. It's unfair to her, and it's unfair to me.

Looking down at the smaller body she held, Shego smiled and gently increased her grip, pulling the woman closer and burying her face in the crook of her neck, taking in her sweet fragrance.

If it's for her… if she's with me… Then I know I can find the hope I need to move forward. If it's for Kim, then I can still hope.

"I'm back, Princess," the thief whispered resolutely. "I'm back." Then she grinned. "And I do believe I owe someone a very thorough ass-kicking."

Kim laughed, gulping down the lump in her throat. She looked up then, her smile slightly less pronounced. "Not today...?"

Shego chuckled. "No, Princess. Not today."

For today and for the future, they can find the hope to move forward.

Middleton at night was quite a striking scene.

Thousands of tiny lights filled in the darkened scenery, flickering on and off at random intervals. Remarkably, the illumination was not so great that the stars were blotted out. It looked almost as if there were two cities there, each the mirror image of the other; the city in the sky and the city on the earth. Few suburban towns could boast such a spectacle.

But some could not appreciate this beauty, or any other. To some, these lights were little more than markers for individual targets.

Two such individuals watched the city with predatory intention. Between them there was no capacity for empathy or mercy. Within their twisted souls, there was room for only one human emotion to keep them anchored to this world: hate, pure and white-hot, yet black as night beyond night.

The larger of the two, a lumbering juggernaut of impossible dimensions, hissed out a breath of frost from between his clenched lipless jaw. An enormous cross-like slab of metal was strapped across the mammoth creature's enormous back. Drowned-blue fingers clenched and unclenched as it assessed the lights in a growing rage. Life itself was an affront to this monster, a fatal insult.

Piercing white eyes narrowed, and the creature gazed down at his companion.

"WHAT NOW?" asked the towering beast, his booming voice echoing across the grassy plain.

The smaller figure to the juggernaut's right sneered, barely acknowledging his companion's presence. He was decidedly simian in appearance, with long arms hanging down nearly to his knees. He stood hunched over and bowlegged, making him appear much shorter than was actually the case.

With a snort of annoyance, the second figure answered. "What do you think, you idiotic carbuncle?" he snapped.

The taller figure roared out at this slight and stamped his foot, shaking the earth beneath them with nearly enough force to send the shorter man to the ground. He barely kept his footing.

"YOU'RE PUSHING YOUR LUCK, MONKEY-MAN The juggernaut warned.

The shorter man cast his partner a fierce glare, baring a mouth full of long tusk-like fangs. After exchanging mutual looks of warning, the shorter man grinned. "What now, you ask? Why, what else?" He regarded the city one final time before striding purposefully toward the sleeping populace.

"What is left to the dead... but revenge?" The dark figure asked coyly.

The juggernaut gave a quick bark of a laugh, and shrugged. In merely two impressive strides, the giant was side-by-side with his dark companion as they made their way on foot slowly towards the city.

In his massive arms, the juggernaut held a large glass canister throbbing and pulsing with a cold, glowing blue-white light.


Author's Notes: Did I mention that this story is the first part of a trilogy? No? Whoops, my bad.

Your comments on this story are greatly appreciated, I NEED them.