A/N: This was originally posted as a sequel to An Unexpected Call, but it's only barely related, so I figured it was better as its own story. Thank you to Makokam for pointing that out.
Dave Lizewski lay in his bed, staring out the window opposite with half-lidded eyes. Outside raindrops hammered away, and thunder and lightning fought for dominance over an ugly black sky. When he was younger, he used to imagine that the lightning was a great beast, which ran thought the skies, appearing only fleetingly; the occasional brilliant flash of light. This beast was always followed by thunder- the hunter. Thunder was patient; he wanted to tame the beast, to use the lightning for itself. Young Dave had lain there, feeling the chase as the storm's distance came and went. It could go on for hours. Sometimes the hunter would get so close to the beast that it seemed certain he'd catch it, bringing an end to the sky-rending bolts of light. But inside Dave knew that he never would. And, just seconds later, the lightning would pull away from the thunder, getting further and further away until it disappeared entirely. When it left, the thunder followed, eternally ready to follow the chase.
Of course Dave had grown up, and with that came the realisation that it was just a silly fantasy. He sighed, shifting slightly under the covers. Ever since that first beating, nothing had been the same. It only got worse with the death of Big Daddy. He'd sat there, half blinded by adrenaline, and a pain so intense that even he felt it. He'd sat there and seen the building flames, the stench of molten plastic and charred flesh filling his nose, and he knew that this was life. There was no reset button, no extra lives. Most of all there was no bullshit story about lightning-beasts. Still, on nights like this he could almost feel that fantasy, just beyond his reach. So he lay there, trying to lose himself in his memory, and the sounds of the night.
Sleep's claws had almost claimed him, when a faint thumping began. It sounded like something hitting his door. Dave's sleepy mind struggled to make sense of it. It was half past midnight. Who would be out there? Then another sound came, almost lost in the winds of the storm.
"Dave… Please…"
He half stumbled, half sprinted down the stairs, blood pounding in his ears. Thumping the light switch in panicked afterthought, he wrenched open the door. There she was, ghostly pale in the light of the door. Dave tried to speak, but found the words dying on his lips. Memories swirled in competition with concern over the bloodied face and torn costume. So distracted was he that only now did he notice the alarming swaying, the violent shivering. He moved to help her, but she'd already begun to fall, like a sapling in a storm. He lunged, catching her mere inches off the ground. God, she felt so frail in his arms.
As if to prove him wrong, she turned, and gave him a weak smile. His heart clenched in response.
"Thanks. I-" She broke off with a dry cough.
"No problems." He replied. "Jesus Mindy, what happened?"
"I'll- I'll tell you inside. I need a shower."
He nodded, and helped her regain her footing, though she still leaned on him for support. Dave kicked the door closed, and together they limped to the bathroom, a trail of water and mud dragging behind them. Upon reaching it, Mindy glanced at the pair in the mirror and grimaced.
"I look like absolute shit."
Dave smiled. "Yeah, you do. Do you need anything?"
"Something to sleep in would be good." She replied.
"I'm sure I've got something that'll work." He said.
With that he turned to leave, but her voice caused him to pause.
"Could you help me get the costume off?"
A memory flashed unbidden into his mind.
Training. Mindy pulled off her top after a particularly intense sparring session, stretching her back luxuriously as she searched for a towel. He wasn't supposed to see this, but she'd left the door ajar and it had swung open. He could see the way her muscles bunched and relaxed as she bent over to dig through the bathroom closet, the subtle curve of a young brea- Fuck, why couldn't he look away? She was so young.
He'd managed to tear his eyes away, but that image still haunted him. Yet he couldn't bring himself leave, not now, not with her like this. So he stayed, pulling off piece after piece of ruined Kevlar, picking apart the shell which had kept her going for so long. The pile of discarded pieces grew, and with it more and more of that body was revealed. Strong arms, covered in bruises yet unafraid of the rough tugging and twisting necessary to remove the costume. Long legs, beautiful but haunted by scars- ghosts of times when she wasn't quite fast enough. Finally, the last piece to come off was the now-patchy wig, revealing her natural hair. He'd always liked its brilliant blond colour. Still, now it was time to leave. Dave stooped to gather what was left of Hit-Girl, when he realised Mindy was staring at him. He quickly rose.
"You ok?"
She shook her head as if to clear it, then said "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"Do you want to keep this, or should I toss it?"
She pulled a face. "Bin it."
"Alright." He said. "I'll see if I can find some pyjamas."
"Thanks."
-/-/-
"So, what happened?"
Mindy sat slumped in one of Dave's recliners, staring into the distance as she poked at some sort of reheated leftovers. Chilli, Dave thought, though he wasn't completely sure. With her free hand she pulled at the too-large shirt which functioned as pyjamas. One of Dave's old Superman shirts, which clashed horrendously with her purple boxer briefs.
The shivering was gone, thank God, and some colour was slowly seeping back into her cheeks. However, the cuts and bruises remained, including a bright red gash across her eyebrow. Dave winced as she rubbed her eye. Thing must hurt something awful.
She sighed, and turned to face him. "I got sloppy. Some assholes mugged a woman, and I chased them into an alley- kinda like the one you got your ass beaten in."
"I still don't think that was necessary." He protested.
"Pussy." She replied, with a wan smile. "Anyway, I was so focused on chasing them that I missed the guy that jumped out behind me. You would have laughed actually, he was dressed in a fucking dumb-ass fluoro blue and black spandex thing. Looked like something out of Tron. Hell, I would have laughed, but then he attacked me…"
She trailed off, staring at something far beyond the living room walls.
"I've fought a lot of people. Hell of a lot. But this was something else. D'Amico, Mother Russia, they had nothing on this guy. I probably shouldn't have gotten out of there alive."
"But you did." Dave said
"Only just. Course when I got back to my hotel it was trashed, and then it started raining, and you were the only person who I trusted enough to go to."
At her words, Dave felt something warm deep inside his breast. "My door's always open. Nearly scared me to death though. You looked like a ghost when I opened the door."
"You bet your ass I'd come back to haunt you if I was." She grinned, and he saw, for the first time since she'd collapsed, the old Mindy.
Suddenly she yawned, rubbing at her eyes and stretching her back until a faint crack could be heard.
"We should get to bed." Suggested Dave.
Mindy tried to speak, but was forced into just nodding by the force of another giant yawn.
"You can have my bed, I'll grab the couch."
He rose from his chair, and attempted to pull out the couch. Eventually, with a metallic squeal of protest, the furniture yielded, and he turned back only to find Mindy fast asleep, sprawled out all over the recliner. Uncomfortable as it looked, he smiled at the clear peace in her face- something so unusual for her. Moving carefully, he slipped his hands under her body, and lifted her to his chest. She was lighter than she looked, so he had no trouble carrying her up the stairs to his room and laying her softly on his bed. Seeing her in front of him made him realise just how much he had missed her. Right now though it was time to return to the couch. He was halfway to the door before the rustle of sheets made him pause.
"Dave… stay?"
He froze. He should not do this. He should walk away, back to the couch. She would go back to sleep without him, and he could avoid the dangerous thoughts about her for at least a little while longer. Every neuron in his brain strained to tell him what a bad idea it would be to climb into a bed with Mindy. But he couldn't. Not now. So he turned, and climbed under the covers, feeling the warmth radiating from her body as she lay next to him. It was going to be a long night.
-/-/-
Dave was wrenched from his sleep by a loud thump, and the crack of splintered wood. Still drowsy he sat up, and in the darkened room saw Mindy's shadow desperately slamming her fists into his headboard.
"Mindy?"
No response. He lurched towards her and grabbed her shoulders, shaking in an attempt to wake her.
"Mindy!"
Her eyes shot open, and Dave's heart dropped. There was a fear there, a fear he'd never seen before in her. All he could do was hug her shaking body tight, and make soothing noises as his shirt grew damp from frightened tears. He didn't know how long they sat there in the dark, but eventually the silent sobs slowed, and he felt the shaking subside.
"Dave?" She trailed off.
"Sh… it's ok. You're safe." Dave's reply was soft, as were his hands, drawing little patterns on her back.
"I feel- empty. What do I do?"
"There's not much you can do, really… Just- it'll be ok."
She looked at him, and he could see the faintest outline of her eyes, still shining with unshed tears. In that instant, he realised that what he cradled in his arms was not the invincible Hit-Girl, or the tough junior, or any of her other facades. She was just Mindy. Nothing more.
"Can you- can you tell a story?"
If it had been a normal day he probably would have laughed at the absurdity of the request. Hit-Girl didn't need stories. Right now though, it made perfect sense. So he simply pulled her back under the covers, and when she'd settled, burrowing into his shoulder, he began.
"A long time ago, way before you and I were born, the sun sent down one of his sons to earth. This son took the form of a great beast. But the creature was so magnificent that it was forced to watch the earth from the darkest clouds, or else all the other animals that lived there would be blinded by its brilliance. Still, the clouds could not hold the beast forever. Glimpses of it can be seen when the sky is darkest. That's what we call lightning. Of course, what follows lightning is thunder is a hunter, patient and eternal…"
As Dave spoke, he felt Mindy's breathing slow, until he was sure she'd fallen asleep. He kept talking though, and still held her tight, tracing meaningless shapes across her back. Somewhere deep within he felt a spark of the old fantasy ignite, drifting off to sleep with a smile for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Outside the rain slowed, and the great hunt moved with it, ready to be continued someplace else, as it always had been.