It Takes One to Raise One

I'd almost decided not to write this. I'd lost touch with the story I was trying to tell and even with writing altogether for a long time. Then I started some GMW and Descendants fics that I had a blast with and remembered how much fun this was. And so after another prodding from a helpful reader, I reread my story and decided it was time to tell more of it. It's time to go down the Hit Girl rabbit hole again and write about someone who has no problem saying the word 'motherfucker'.

Holy fuck. Father Russia, or whatever the fuck he called himself, had orchestrated all of this to get revenge for me killing Mother Russia. I'm thinking this is actually what that 'surreal' word in my test packet for the GED meant. I'd have to fix my answer if I ever got back to the safe house again.

Dave was out cold and looked like he'd really been beaten to shit. Which was kind of a normal look on him unfortunately. Chris/Motherfucker was also unconscious thanks to Father Russia pistol whipping him. Bethany's left arm was twisted kind of funny and she'd collapsed next to Father Russia. Miranda was lying on the floor. I couldn't see her face and from the way she was lying, I couldn't tell if she was breathing. But she did have her clothes on so hopefully she hadn't been repeated raped before… before whatever had happened to her had happened to her… That was a cumbersome thought but my mind wasn't ready to wrap itself around the word 'dead' right now. The word was too short and simple to handle.

I decided to focus on the things I could control. "So, umm, you're Father Russia?" I asked him while twisting in my chair slightly so he wouldn't notice that I had a second gun in the holster on my left hip. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side.

"I am Oleg, not Father Russia. That Mother Russia bullshit was created by that clown over there and I'm not going to be a part of it." He said. "And that other pistol you're trying to hide. Pull it out with two fingers on your left hand – butt only. Then drop it on the floor. You can add your knives and any other weapons you might be hiding to the pile also. Be careful and be thorough. I'm going to search you in a few minutes and anything that I find still on you I will use to rape you with repeatedly."

"Well, wasn't this guy a ball of sunshine?" I thought while carefully removing my weapons. On a lark, I made sure that when I dropped the pistol that it bounced over near Bethany. Maybe if she woke up at the right moment she could toss it back over to me or something. It wasn't much of a plan but beggars really couldn't be choosers at this point. And I kept one knife that I had hidden inside my body armor. Not that I wanted to be raped with it but I figured that once we got to the searching part, rape was probably in my future anyway. Hopefully I could make something happen before then. Plus, it was my smallest knife so maybe it wouldn't be as bad…

Wow. That was a stupid thought. As if there's a less bad way to be raped. Maybe that bullet did do some brain damage...

I glanced over at Dave again, desperately hoping that he'd miraculously wake up and save my ass from being raped and killed. He stirred a little bit and I actually got my hopes up a little before he went back to not moving. I had no real plan at that point. I didn't even have a kitchen cabinet to hide in like I did at D'Amico's place.

"So, Hit Girl. Before I kill you, I have to know. How did a little shit like you kill the great Olga? You should have been like a mosquito to her."

"I'm fast. So, I moved as quick as I could and tried to stay behind her. Still, she was a tough opponent. You can be proud of how she died."

Oleg stood up and began pacing, waving his gun around while he did so. "Olga too was fast. Very fast. And much, much stronger. She should have crushed you. I don't understand. Explain it better and I'll kill you quicker. But I will still kill you. And Kick Ass. And this Motherfucker/Emperor idiot. I might let the little girl live though if the story is good enough."

My eyes grew wide as I realized that this guy wasn't some sort of villain who would toy with us or put us in an elaborate death trap that we might escape. This wasn't James Bond time. Oleg was a cold killer and once I'd told him what he wanted to know, the best that we could hope for was two bullets to the back of the head. Any other death would be just as certain but we'd have to suffer first. I began to spin the story of fighting Olga into the longest one that I possibly could. I detailed every strike and every parry. I described the room and the fight that had been going on around us. He was eating it up though so I just kept going. Eventually I was just making things up so that I'd get to live for a few seconds longer. I mean, this was it. This was the end. There wasn't any cavalry coming to save our butts and only my voice recounting the story was still keeping us alive. Dave wasn't moving. Chris wasn't moving. Miranda wasn't moving. Bethany wasn't….

Bethany moved. Just a little bit, but she definitely moved. I kept the story going, hoping that maybe she'd move again. She did. Just a little bit, but she moved. Then her eyes opened. I could see the pain of her broken arm in them but despite that, she was alert. She locked her eyes with mine and I moved my head slightly toward the gun that I'd dropped as close to her as possible. A microscopic nod followed that and her good arm started moving toward the gun. To keep Oleg distracted, I amped up the story I was telling by talking about how strong Mother Russia had been. I detailed how she'd smashed me into scaffolding and into the ground. The more I detailed my own pain, the more engrossed Oleg became. Finally, out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Bethany had the gun. Her eyes found mine again and all I saw behind them were questions. She didn't know what to do now that she had it. But I did. And I realized that I'd known this might happen for a very long time. I hated that it was necessary but it was the only option that we had left.

"And then I took a step back from Mother Russia and gave her a warning shot." I said, as clearly as I could.

Oleg looked confused. "Warning shot? How did you do that? You said you'd already lost your gun."

Bethany's eyes grew wide, then narrowed as she accepted what she needed to do.

"It's simple." I said, more for Bethany's benefit than for his at this point. "I picked up the gun, aimed it carefully, and pulled the trigger." Bethany's arm started moving.

"I still don't understand. Your gun was close enough to pick up or was it a different gun that you used?"

I locked eyes with Bethany, then inclined my head toward Oleg. "Now."

"Now? What do you mean now?" said Oleg. But just as he finished the word, a bullet from my gun clutched tight in Bethany's hand ripped through Oleg's skull and made sure it was the last thing that he ever said.

I rushed over to Bethany and took the gun out of her hands. Then I gently helped her to sit up. She whimpered when her broken arm moved but otherwise she was pretty tough for a little kid. Then Dave started stirring. I guess the sound of the gunshot woke him up. He looked over, saw that Oleg was dead, then looked around some more and found us. He smiled. "You did it, Hit Girl. I knew you would. I knew you'd kill that bastard."

I shook my head no. "Bethany did it. She saved us. I told her to give him a warning shot and she did."

Dave chuckled a bit and then tried to stop when it made his insides hurt too much. "Just like you did to that mugger on the street, huh?" he asked Bethany. "One warning shot to the head. I think I need to apologize to you again for getting mad that day."

I heard some noises like footsteps far away from the room but coming closer. "Looks like somebody might have heard that shot. We need to move." I stood up and first pulled Dave to his feet. He was steadier than I'd expected him to be. Then I pulled Bethany up but she looked like she was about to pass out from the pain in her arm. Somebody was going to have to carry her. I looked over to Dave. "Can you carry her?" I asked.

Dave shook his head no. "I've got to carry Miranda. You'll have to carry Bethany." He walked over and with a groan of pain, knelt down, grabbed Miranda and pulled her over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He didn't even take the time to check if she was alive or dead. He glanced back at me and I shook myself out of my stupor, holstered my gun and picked up Bethany.

We were about to leave when I remembered Chis. He looked so pathetic lying there on the floor unconscious. I could tell that he'd lost his legs to that shark attack. That had obviously destroyed what little sanity he'd had left. He belonged in a hospital, not a prison. He looked so peaceful that you could almost forget all of the pain and destruction that he'd caused. Almost. Not quite. I understood some of what he'd done. I'd pursued revenge for my father's death too. I understood what a hunger for vengeance could do to your soul. I'd seen it destroy Big Daddy and any chance I'd ever had at a normal life. And just like me, he'd been raised in a pretty fucked up manner. That meant that what he'd become wasn't entirely his fault. Still, he was an adult now and he'd made his own choices. And I'd made mine.

I shifted Bethany a bit on shoulder and drew my pistol. And then I put two bullets into Chris's brain.

I don't care if you want to call it murder. I don't care if you want to call it cold blooded. I'll call it as it was. Chris was a rabid dog. It might not be his fault that he ended up that way but by the end, the only way to stop him was to put him down. Because if I didn't, he'd somehow manage to come back. And also, because I'd promised Miranda that I'd remove him from this earth. I didn't know yet whether she was alive or dead but it didn't matter. I'd made a promise and it needed to be kept.

The noises outside started getting closer, probably because of the sound of the two additional shots. I looked over at Dave, afraid that he'd be standing there judging me for murdering a cripple lying on the floor. But he wasn't. He was just ready to go. And so we did.

I don't exactly remember how we got out of that building. It shouldn't have even been possible, especially since we were both carrying someone. But somehow we dodged around whoever was left and ran out of the front entrance with a few remaining guards hot on our heels. I thought we were toast right then when an explosion pushed us onward and knocked our remaining pursuers out of the fight. One of the grenades that I'd hung off the building attached to motors from Bethany's broken toys had finally fallen and exploded. Whether it was the universe finally doing something right for once or just because the transmitter on my belt was outside that stupid concrete building and could reach it, I don't know. I'm not going to worry about the why. I'm just going to be happy it happened.

We ran until we found someplace safe to hide and then I called Marcus to come and get us. Dave finally got to check Miranda out and she was still alive. Bethany explained that when they had been grabbed, the bad men had given Miranda some sort of shot. That was probably why she was still out cold.

Marcus found us a doctor who would keep his mouth shut and got all of us patched up. It was going to cost me a pretty penny but since the guy had basically agreed to open up his office and only take care of us there until we left, I guess it was worth the cost. Bethany was delighted by her cast insisted that we all sign it right away. When Miranda finally woke up, we explained what had happened and that Chris was dead. He could never hurt her again. Somehow that made her weep like a lost child and I didn't feel even the slightest bit jealous when Dave sat down next to her and held her until her tears had run their course. How could I be upset? He was my Dave. Taking care of people was what he did and I wouldn't want him any other way.

Finally Miranda got herself back under control and once her eyes had recovered from crying, there was a peacefulness in them that I'd never seen before. That look actually turned to love when Marty finally managed to join us. He took over for Dave in comforting Miranda and pretty soon we were all in good enough shape to leave. I'd even calmed down enough that I wasn't going to kick Todd in the nuts for telling some stranger where Marty had gone on vacation.

Well, not too hard anyway. He still deserved it for that 'save himself for me' bullshit.

The one thing that still hadn't gone away was that heartburn I'd had the entire time I'd been trying to rescue Dave. As we were getting ready to go, I mentioned it to Dave and he pointed at that since we had one on hand, I should probably talk to the doctor. I grumbled and finally gave in.

The doctor checked me out, took some blood and had me piss in a cup. But nothing was obviously wrong with me so he gave me some antacids and said he'd call me in a day or two once he could get the stuff over to a lab.

I chartered us a private jet home. That was expensive too but we were all too banged up to fly commercial. It would have attracted way too much attention. As the plane lifted off, I finally started to relax. Since I was sitting next to Dave, I just snugged into his shoulder. He put his arm around me and before I know it, I'd fallen asleep, content in the knowledge that when I woke up, I'd be safely back in New York.