Recovery Time

Kim's head felt fuzzy. She groaned, sitting up slowly.

"Mom?"

"Oh - oh, god, you're finally up." The elder Possible was at the end of her bed. She was in the hospital - great. She even recognized the room. Granted, she didn't get clobbered as often as some would-be heroes did, but a few jobs had gone south over the years. Kim glanced down - all limbs intact, good. In a hospital gown, less good. No visible trauma that she could see - no broken bones. Weird.

"Finally? How long have I been out?" Ann didn't answer right away, leaning over and shining a penlight into each of Kim's eyes, frowning.

"What do you remember?"

"Uh." Kim squinted. "I... remember we were dealing with Frugal Lucre. Some plot involving..." She trailed off. "I... y... I don't know. Uh. And then..." Her face fell. "It's... all a blur after we got into the warehouse."

"I was afraid of that." Ann grimaced. "We don't know the fine details, but the warehouse exploded."

"Ohmygod. RON!" Kim sat bolt upright. Ann's hands were on her shoulders immediately.

"He's fine. A few stitches in his arm, no lasting injuries. Rufus is fine too." Ann gently eased her daughter back into the bed. "You... on the other hand... have a concussion, and likely minor brain damage."

"Brain - brain damage?!" Kim blurted. "I... no. I can't-"

"I did emphasize the word 'minor', Kimmie-cub." Ann's tone remained soft. "You have memory loss, which isn't a great sign, but it's all around the point of trauma. You might have suffered a loss of reflexes or coordination from the parts of your brain showing damage, or you might be fine. In either case..." She sighed. This wasn't going to be easy, Kim could see that on her face. "I'm pulling you out of the field."

"You can't." Kim's tone was firm, if disbelieving. "You're not a part of Global Justice."

"No, but I'm your doctor. And I have Betty Director's number in my phone." She gave Kim a sweet smile. "And the fact that you were asleep for four days means that I have more than enough reason to pull you out for a six-month recovery period, to see how badly you've managed to screw your brain up, and to recover."

Six months. Six months out of the field. Kim sank back into the pillow, eyes closing. She was out of high school. No cheerleading to soak up her time. No classwork at all - she was taking a deferred year to help figure things out in her life. Ron was still going to be doing fieldwork in the meantime - his mystical Monkey Powers (tm) meant that he was turning into a more effective agent than she was half the time.

"So... just... just a few months of you, me, Dad and the tweebs..."

"Uh." Ann cleared her throat. "You and me. Remember?" Kim thought a moment.

"Right. Right, Houston. Ugh." Her dad was working on a new NASA shuttle, and the tweebs had been tapped to help design it after the rocket scientists saw their work. So it was just the two of them. Lightly-concussed Kim and her mom.

That couldn't be too bad, could it?