A/N: First of all, this is the first KND fic I've ever written/posted. Therefore, if anyone's OOC, I desperately beg forgiveness! Secondly, I know Numbuh Five is the eldest member of the team, but for the sake of this story, I made Numbuh One the eldest. Sorry about that. As I was writing, I forgot that fact, and by the time I realized, I didn't know how to fix it. lol.

This idea has been wandering around in my head for a while. I've always thought that the fact of decommissioning at age thirteen was the saddest thing in the KND series, making me veraciously hate the idea. Thus, comes this idea. This is a slight reconciliation for me, along with a (hopefully) new way of looking at thirteen and everything that comes with it.

Warning: This does contain spoilers from 'Operation: I.N.T.E.R.V.I.E.W.S.,' so if you haven't seen it yet, you may want to click the back arrow. Also, this might be a little depressing, considering...all that I named above.

Disclaimer: Mr. Warburton, Curious Pictures, Cartoon Network, and anyone affiliated own Codename: Kids Next Door; I do not. If I did, it sure as heck wouldn't have ended so soon (well, I think it was soon...)!

Thirteen

"Numbuh One would have been thirteen today."

The previously-loud room stopped. Video games were paused, off-key singing was silenced, and attention was turned from typing up mission reports. All eyes were on Numbuh Two, who had not had the heart to work on any inventions that day. Indeed, the only reason everyone else seemed so occupied was because they were trying so hard to distract themselves.

It was true. This exact day, three years ago, their best friend had turned ten years old. And now, today...

Thirteen… How they hated the number.

For everyone else, for those adolescents not recruited by the Kids Next Door, turning thirteen was a glorious time of being on the borderline between adulthood—the Treehouse residents shuddered at the thought—and sweet, beloved childhood. For those kids...frankly, it was in constant debate whether they were lucky or terribly unfortunate.

For them, for those loyal members of the Kids Next Door, they hated every bit of it. They hated each birthday a little more because of it; they hated the read-outs they received—like every Kids Next Door operative did—from the well-meaning Supreme Commander, the ones that detailed which people close to them were being decommissioned that day; they hated having to be in the company of Numbuh 86, knowing her job as Head of Decommissioning was what had made her so difficult, so hard to reach; they hated thinking about one of their own ever reaching such a disgusting age, feeling almost physically pained when they understood that the passing of each day brought them all a little closer to the end.

They hated it. Through and through, they did.

And yet, at the core of the pain they felt due to the ostensibly insignificant number, there was the dreadfully real truth that it couldn't be stopped. At least, not anytime soon. Indeed, the day Numbuh One had left long ago, they had overheard the revelation that adulthood was a disease.

At the time, they had been shocked, frightened, but they trusted the Galactic Kids Next Door to find the cure, especially because their leader, their best friend, had been chosen to join it. They knew he would do all in his power—and beyond it, as he always had before—to protect them and the rest from the horrors of such a ghastly experience as growing old.

As for what Numbuh Two had said, they didn't know what to say. It was silent in the room, and no one moved. Really, it would be a wonder if they were even daring to breathe.

It was surprising, then, when Numbuh Five made the first move.

While she had accepted the job as Supreme Commander of the Kids Next Door when Numbuh 362 had offered it a short while after Numbuh One had left, they had come to a consensus—one surrounding the fact that they had both shared special relationships with Numbuh One. Rachel would stay on as Commander until the day the former leader of Sector V, Nigel Uno, would have been decommissioned. Only then, and after making sure her beloved team would be able to handle themselves without her being around all the time, would Numbuh Five agree to take the job. She was scheduled to leave for her coronation-of-sorts at the Moonbase the next day.

"Hey, Hoagie," she intoned quietly, hopping down from her chair and walking across the room to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, "it's gonna be all right. Numbuh Five's sure Numbuh One's lookin' out for us, no matter where he is or how old he gets. The Galactic Kids Next Door don't believe in decommissioning anyway. And Numbuh Five's still gonna be here, even if she's not here-here." Kneeling before him as he sat on the wooden floor, she leaned forward to hug him tightly, willing the tears in his eyes to go away. "Abby's never gonna leave you guys. She'll be thinkin' of you all day, every day." She pulled away gently, smiling tenderly at him before turning the same expression to the two other members of the team. "You know that."

Sniffling, Hoagie nodded, and Wally and Kuki, both of whom had developed tears in their own eyes, did as well. They would miss her dearly. She had always been like a big sister to them, had always protected them and comforted them to the best of her ability. They loved her so much, and to lose her, even if they weren't really losing her… They hated to see her go.

Curse this age of thirteen. It ruined everything. Absolutely everything. All they had worked for, all they had dreamed of, all they had loved…it was all falling apart because of it. How they hated it…

It called on the decommissioning of friends and, at times, family; it called on this 'agreement' between Numbuh 362 and Numbuh Five; it called on the reminder that their adored leader was no longer with them; it called on the dark, despised side of the Kids Next Door. Such a willful, clawing, scarring side entailed calling on the feelings all KND operatives kept carefully locked away within their hearts: sometimes, they even went so far as to wonder whether joining the Kids Next Door wasn't the biggest mistake of their lives.

Yes, this accursed fourth in the order of double-digit numbers was something far from beautiful. It was something maniacal and self-satisfying, something glorified by some and shunned beyond comprehension by others, something vile and downright sickening.

It was a mutually hated thing in the Kids Next Door.

Because, for them, it was nothing short of a death sentence.