The Descent

Chapter 24: Period

I could feel it, underneath the blanket I was forced to share with Mindy. I could feel the thing sticking out, threatening me. The grenade in Mindy's pocket kept me awake. Somehow, it almost felt like Mindy intentionally keeping me awake by jabbing it at my stomach. "I'm a light sleeper, Davey dear." She'd said in her unusually calm and affectionate way. She knew that it would be hair-raising for me. It was like being Victor Frankenstein when he created his monster and regretted it. Mindy had become a mish-mash of Hit-Girl and some typical 60s kid. "If you try anything, it would be our last night together." She'd said before kissing me in the cheek and then lying down, closing her eyes.

Her head weighed uncomfortably on my shoulder. It felt like incest and rape all of a sudden, with me on the business end, not that I was ever comfortable with her sleeping in the same bed with me. I had to try something. I had to defuse the situation, and get Dr. Paul. She was a danger to everyone, including herself. She was a zombified Superman, and she needed her cure. I couldn't hope for anything better. Not anymore.

Her breathing was surprisingly gentle and light. A few hours in the darkness had already given me my nightvision, and I saw her face – peaceful and serene, with all the trouble in the world gone, just like that. No one would have suspected her of being a little unhinged or having multiple personalities while she's asleep. I remembered her talking to herself when she was interrogating me. I remembered her hurting herself, almost chopping off her own fingers. I had to do it. I tried to move my left arm, but it was trapped underneath Mindy the timebomb. I could bet my life that she did it to make things difficult for me.

With my right hand, I lifted the blanket so I could see the grenade poking out of her pocket. It wasn't even in her pocket. It was sitting naked out in the open, in her hand. Her fingers were still wrapped around it, pressing it down against the mattress, against me. Her head lay uncomfortably on my shoulder. I was even more conscious of it as I was trying to steal the grenade. I went for it, fast and dirty.

I tried to take her hand off the grenade. I expected it to be loose. It turns out her fingers were quite tightly wrapped around the grenade. I was putting all my bets in it. I tried to pry her fingers off. They tightened. My heart leapt. "I told you I'm a light sleeper, Dave." It was Mindy taling, sounding half-asleep but well awake.

"I'm sorry! Please don't! Don't do it!" I couldn't breathe as I whispered my apology. I was back to being helpless, back to square zero. I could hear her giggling tiredly, as if it was all just some light-hearted game. Surprisingly, I didn't hear any safety pins coming off or the lever getting pressed. Instead, she rolled closer to me from her back to her stomach, putting her left arm around my trunk, burying her face into my arm.

"It's okay. Go back to sleep, Dave." It was almost as if Mindy was sleep talking, but I knew for sure she wasn't. I had no idea why she was so forgiving, but I was fucking glad – as long as nothing explodes, I was fucking glad. Her grenade arm was splayed out, and it went out of my reach. Surprisingly, I fell asleep soon after I gave up. I might have fainted instead. I wasn't sure.

When I woke up again, I found myself alone in bed. I was still hoping for yesterday to be a nightmare, so I got off my bed. Went to check on Mindy's room. The alternative – to just stay in bed and hope everything would go away – was becoming about as tempting as a billion dollar budget Thor movie. She wasn't there, and the sound of spatula grating against pan was a tell-tale sign of what was to come.

She cooked me breakfast, the exact same kind as the one I dumped into the bin on Saturday. I took my time brushing my teeth and showering, spending as much time as I could humanly put into the tasks, but I had to go down eventually. When I did, she was there, sure enough, sitting at the table, patiently waiting on me. She was in a blue dress, minus her necklace and watch, but it was all a lie. She was far different inside. The phone on the counter and the urge to dial 911 was tempting, but the grenade I could feel inside Mindy's pocket wasn't. I could feel it even without reaching into her pocket or even seeing it.

Dad was missing. There was a note on the table that Mindy was ignoring. Seeing that I'd noticed it… "Must have drifted in from the neighbours," She said sarcastically, almost like the old her minus the expletives. I went to the table, and was about to sit on the direct opposite side of the table from her when she pulled out a chair positioned right next to her, pulling it out forcefully, the legs of the chair grinding against the floor. I understood, and sat next to her.

I started with the note first. Leaning over to glance at it, I saw 'To: Mandy' written on top of the note. It was folded in half, almost rolled up, and when I took it, a necklace with a heart and cross on the chain fell out. It was Dad's gift to Mindy. Dad was devastated when Mindy 'returned' it to him as she was throwing her fit. What was even worse was he didn't even know the full story behind it all. He blamed himself for it, good old Dad.

"I was never there for her." Dad said yesterday while we were sitting on the couch, after I'd explained everything to him, minus her memories coming back, "Instead, I pushed that responsibility onto you. I thought she'd want that, but…" I could see his wrinkles, more prominent than normal, all the more visible because of Mindy, "She's 11, almost 12. She needed me and… I wasn't there." He looked like he'd been hit over the head, and he just got up and made for the front door that way. "Huh. Did she get her first period yet? I don't even know." He sort of said to himself in his dazed state.

"No, dad, no periods yet." I told him. I saw him turning his head, looking at me over the shoulder, but I couldn't see his face, "Where're you going?"

"Some place to think. I need to think." It was all he said before leaving. I never knew where he went. I still didn't know where he went. Just a month ago, he felt decades younger because of Mindy. He'd ran out of juice now it seemed. There was never such a thing as the fountain of youth, nor perfect father figures. I could only be glad that mine was still intact, not blown up by a certain someone, or I'd be joining the club with Superman and Spiderman.

I opened the note, and sure enough, it was Dad's handwriting, but it wasn't as well written as his previous notes. He was still doing this, using paper, when a message on cellphone would have done the job:

Dear Mandy,

I have to leave for work early today. I'm sorry, sweetie, that I can't be at breakfast with you today. Daddy will make up for it. It's been on my mind ever since.

I'm sorry I can't be the best Daddy in the world. I'll do better. Give me a chance. Please take back the necklace.

Signed,

Daddy.

"It's actually for you." I slipped the note underneath Mindy's plate, and the necklace next to it. She took some time to regard them, as if she was thinking about something. They actually seemed to mean something to her, despite her attitude saying otherwise. For a moment, I thought she would read the note and put the necklace back on. Instead, she took a page from my book and consigned them to the bin underneath the sink, together with her Saturday special. Yes, it was still there. I couldn't say anything – I wasn't the big brother anymore, the one in charge. She was the one with the grenade.

"I learn from the best." After dispensing her sarcasm, which was becoming a normal thing, Mindy returned to her meal. I couldn't stop looking at her, wishing that she would dig out the treasure Dad had given her back out. After getting a pissed off look from her, I went back to eating my breakfast. Everything felt wrong with Mindy's arrangement. Even with her remembering things, I couldn't believe she was getting a kick out of bossing me and Dad around, especially when things were fine at the start.

"Dad loves you, you know." I said, or more like muttered it quickly, hoping Mindy would miss it instead, after taking a bite out of the toast she prepared. It was good, I had to admit, but if going to church had taught me anything, it's never a good idea to take manna from someone who could kill you with a snap of his fingers.

Mindy gave me that look again, and I stopped eating. I was actually afraid the room might blow up because of what I said. "I'm sorry." I begged for forgiveness once again. I didn't want Mindy to die at 11, and I didn't want to die at 18 years old. There were still so many things to do. With things the way they were, I had nothing at home to go back to, and Miranda took over all the space in my head. Hope became her face, pushing Mindy's away.

"Your dad's a selfish old man, Dave. He lied to me, just like you did." Mindy finally deigned to talk to me, "He lied to me so that he could have a 'perfect' family. It's pitiful, Dave, just like you when you wet your own pants." How about if I put you on the chair instead, Mindy? I looked away, specifically at the breakfast she made again, and went back to eating. Then why the fuck are you still hanging onto me? There were so many things in my head that I couldn't say anymore. "You took care of me, Dave. That's why you're still here. 'Dad'? Not really." Mindy went on, as if she was Professor X. There were so many things wrong with what she said, but I was powerless. I could feel the grenade in her pocket. Already, those 5 words that got Mindy started on Dad was too big a risk.

When it was almost time to board the schoolbus (yes, Mindy wants me to take the school bus with her, or she'd blow up), I waited for Mindy to go up to her room for her bag. Going back to the bin under the sink, I stuck my hand into it, sifting through Mindy's rotting Saturday special, groping inside for the necklace. It'd gone quite deep. I tried to be fast, digging through the trash. I couldn't risk Mindy seeing what I was doing. After finally feeling the chain, I pulled it out, washed the grime and rotten, sticky and slimy food off the necklace. "What're you doing?" Before I even expected her, Mindy was there. I jumped, and off the top of my head, my only idea to conceal the necklace was to drop it into the sink. I was lucky it didn't end up in the pipes.

"I'm… Nothing! Just washing my hands!" I tried my best to lie, but I could tell that I was failing miserably. I spun around – I was always afraid Mindy would do something to me, or detonate the grenade in her pocket.

"You're such a slow-mo, Dave! C'mon! The bus is coming in 5 minutes!" She teased. Surprisingly, Mindy fell for it. She seemed to be in a far better mood than how she was just, like, a minute before. It was almost as if she was becoming a bipolar case, or just generally unstable. It wasn't a nice thought, especially considering the grenade attached to her hand, and her fuse was much shorter than how it used to be.

After School…

"Where do you think you're going, Davey dear?" It was Mindy, leaning against a wall outside, just out of my sight. She was just there waiting for me as I was leaving through the front doors of Millard-Fillmore Highschool, just past the metal detectors – here's a thought. How did Mindy smuggle her grenade past the security checkpoint? I couldn't help but to seize up after getting spotted by my adopted sister. It was almost involuntary. It felt like she'd trained me to do that.

Mindy came up to me, unusually calm – I would have thought that catching me sneaking out of school like that would set her off. By sneaking off to Safehouse F, or at least trying to, I was hoping to give her fewer reasons to blow up, both figuratively and literally – the true consequence of my action occurred to me a little too late. Either way, trouble was waiting for me. I couldn't even begin to care about her mental health anymore, because this time the problem's closer to home: My survival, and her life.

"Oh, Mandy… Hi." Her eyes widened and eyebrows sloped with rage when I used her new name, but she calmed down quickly – she must have known that I couldn't call her anything else out in the open. Shoot , of all the times! She'd caught me at the wrong time. Today was an important day – it was special operations day with Justice Forever, "I'm just off for my… Kick-Ass thing." I whispered the last bit softly so that only she could hear it. Already, skipping yesterday was a huge let-down for both myself and the team. At the very least, they understood me, that I had family problems, but I could never forgive myself for skipping even a single day of Justice patrol and training. It was another of the biggest things in my life – not to mention, with Ralph D'Amico in the picture, I'd made it my personal mission to be the teams 'anti-corruption investigator', in addition to being a regular (founding) member. Anything could happen in a single day, and Mindy jeopardised the team for her own benefit. The thought sparked a single candle's worth of pissed-off in me, but I couldn't even muster that out in the face of my adopted sister.

"Really? What kind of 'Kick-Ass thing'?" Mindy pressed on, her Iron Man's iron grip unrelenting once she'd latched on. If I had to explain it to her, I would have to divulge quite a bit of Justice Forever secrets. With Mindy being the way she was, I couldn't trust her with that kind of information. I walked away, hoping that she would get the hint, hoping that she won't blow up, in every sense of the word. Deep down, I was beginning to think she won't pull the ring and push the lever. She wanted me, and now she wanted information about tonight's special operation. "You disappoint me, Davey darling." Chink! – A metallic sound. Holy shit. I turned around. Saw her spinning the pin around on her finger like a keyring. A group of four teenagers were congregated near her, talking amongst themselves, well within the blast zone. A few just walked by. I returned to her side. I wanted so much to punch her in the face, insane or not.

"W-I'm raiding a place run by the mob, happy?" I told her in a hushed tone. I couldn't do it, risking her like that, risking my life, risking those four teenagers. Looking at them, I noticed how bright and good looking they were. No, couldn't, don't Dave, don't. "Why'd you want to know anyway?" Mindy's eyes lit up. Why didn't I predict this before?

"I'm coming along." She said flatly, clearly leaving no room for discussions, "I'm helping, like it or not." Shit. I avoided mentioning any 'we' because I knew that she had no idea I was working with a whole army of superheroes, and now it seemed that I would have to tell her.

"Mindy, you can't!" I jumped at her, almost forgetting to whisper. I attracted a few stares, but nothing more than glances. I took her by the arm, lead her further away from the school – I hadn't forgotten about the children and teenagers she was unintentionally (maybe) threatening to blow up.

"Why not?" Mindy said, mostly in her usual little-miss-authoritative way, but there was something else. She sounded like she was getting rejected, like she was insecure. I'd been around Mindy long enough, and I surprised myself when I saw it. I was never that good with people, but with Mindy, I guess it was different. "Are you forgetting something, Dave?" She held out her hand, showing me the grenade safety pin dangling on her index finger. Holy fucking- I forgot all about that. I inched a little away from her. Didn't want accidents to happen, and it almost felt like I nearly bump into her while I was getting her out of the range of the school. I was mentally clawing my eyes out.

"Mindy! You! I-" I was running out of brain juice, but something else occurred to me. The grenade – the pin. Deep down, below all that survival bullshit, below my loyalty to Justice Forever, below my Kick-Ass business, I cared about Mindy in the end. I didn't need brain juice, because all it took was a beating heart, "I care about you, Mindy! You'll get hurt! You're just an 11-year-old-" And I felt the sting of Mindy's palm on my face before I could finish my sentence. It was a hard one. She'd put a lot of strength into it, but it hardly fazed me. For a moment, I noticed a pair of girls staring at us. They walked away, giggling uncontrollably, obviously having the wrong idea, obviously oblivious to the grenade in Mindy's pocket. To them, it was just funny business.

"Did that jog your mind, Davey darling? And I thought I'm the one with memory problems!" She was gritting her teeth. Another key word I'd have to watch out for in Mindy's search engine, "I'm Hit-Girl, remember?" It was time for me to throw in my aces, but they were starting to feel like a useless hand full of numbers.

"That was a year ago!" I couldn't imagine how horrible Mindy would fail if she just went in there, cold turkey. Even with her sanity and memories intact, I would worry for her, and in her present condition, the former was in question, and the latter's not entirely there. But the little assassin's smile said it all, not to mention her body, which no longer looked like it would break like glass if touched – she still looked like a child (she was 11 after all), and frail, but she was stronger. One thing came after the next, and I remembered the news I watched about the mystery killings. A new breed of superheroes – or supervillains? The headlines came back to me. The throwing knife in the officer's hand. I knew I recognised that throwing knife! "You've been going out there!"

"Took you long enough to figure that out." Mindy said. Sarcasm was oozing out of her every word. She wasn't even like this yesterday. She was still, and always, changing, and she was changing fast. Her secrets ran deeper than I expected. It brought back from the dead the question: How long had she gone back to being Hit-Girl? I went back to the day she crashed into a wall on her bike. I was starting to doubt it ever happened. It was starting to stink like a cover story. I feel like I was becoming a delusional and paranoid psychopath – I didn't want to go there, so I stopped.

"It's not just about us, Mindy." I explained as I adjusted my spectacles, hid my face, which I know would be transparent and easy to read. Hoped for the best, "I'm working with a whole team of Superheroes. We… call ourselves Justice Forever. Colonel Stars and Stripes' leading us. He's a real badass, and he won't accept child soldiers."

"I'm going, Dave." And that was the end of it, her cards to my aces, which were really just a bunch of small numbers. In the end, I couldn't stop her. Without our bicycles, we had to hail a cab, get to Safehouse F that way.

For the first time since… ever, we suited up together. I took the storeroom where all the guns were while she changed in the kitchen, out in the open. She was changing – just weeks ago, she would have been too shy to even change into something else, afraid that she would look ugly in a new dress, and now, she was changing out in the open, unabashed, unafraid.

It was awkward when we met in our costumes. Hadn't done that in a long time, and the last time we did it, she was already too far gone to notice that the 'supervillain' she was trying to catch was herself. I couldn't look at Hit-Girl in the same light anymore. Somewhere deep inside those eyes behind the figure-8 mask was Mandy, that vulnerable, feminine, sweet little girl… Somehow, Mindy seemed out of place in her purple costume, even if she looked exactly the same in it. Then I noticed the guns she was bringing along. A pair of pistols. She looked like she was considering bringing something bigger along. She no longer had a single grenade. She had a full bandoleer of them.

"Mindy! We're not killing anyone! You look like you're ready to go to the Middle-East or… something!" I exclaimed at the sight of her loaded down for world war three. She didn't reply, at least not immediately. Turning her eyes towards the storeroom, she actually considered bringing even more guns, but must have decided against it.

"Don't worry, Davey darling." She spoke to me as if I was a kid, actively trying to reverse our roles. It was frustrating to be talked down to this way – was she trying to punish me for treating her like a kid (that she was) all those other days? "Don't worry about my guns. They're my last resort. I can't shoot anymore." I couldn't bring myself to believe her. None of her targets came out alive, as far as I remember, from those alleys.

Later…

We went out looking like strangers who'd never met. Mindy trailed behind me, in a bad ass trenchcoat. She didn't need to say it, but we had an understanding between us – if I was leading her into a trap, she blows up. I was a little less intimidated this time, because there was no trap to lead her to.

Colonel Stars and Stripes wanted us assembled before dinner to catch the crooks off-guard. It took us almost an hour to get there, but we were early. Mindy had a different idea. She insisted on being the early bird, and she wasn't exactly a team player. When I was climbing a ladder up an apartment building's rooftop, she didn't follow me. She was walking away instead, "Mindy! What on Earth are you doing?" She ignored me, and disappeared around a bend into an alley.

…

I knew the place. I was remembering more and more things that were way out there. I remembered CC at first. Then Cosimo Casillo. I knew the name from Daddy's desk. Dave and his friends were going to raid his place. After climbing up Casillo's apartment building to my insertion point on the roof, I pulled out my cellphone and dialled Dave's number. We were in plain sight of one another, so he knew what I was doing. I could see him, so small and far away, pick up his phone. "Mindy? What are you-?" I could hear his voice coming through the Bluetooth headset I hooked on my right ear.

We gotta get over it, on top of it and then into it, right in the middle of it – I could hear Daddy. "I'm going in from the top." I interrupted him. Details were coming back to me, fast. I was picking up where I left off a year ago. I was remembering weird things – people placement, layout, the numbers. I was getting butterflies in my stomach from it. It didn't feel good. I could feel myself shaking no matter how much I didn't want to, "I know where some of the guards are. I'll tag them and make it easier for you and your team." It was the only way. I could tell that Dave wasn't lying about his leader. He was too confident, and the name was too creative to be made up with his pants down. "Colonel Stars and Stripes won't have to worry about child soldiers this way."

"Oh… Yeah, thanks but…" Dave said, reluctant to show his appreciation. When this is over, he'll thank me better. I'll make him! Yet, the more I thought about how things had become between us, the more I wanted the past back. When we shared a bed – his bed – yesterday, it didn't feel the same. I didn't feel anything when he ate my breakfast, not like when he loved my first batch of crappy pancake I made. "… Mindy? Mindy, you okay?" Dave's voice continued. I hadn't been listening. I must have zoned out. After telling him that I was fine, he continued, "I… uh… I don't think you should be doing this. I mean, c'mon, you've been out of it for a while, you ought to, like, pace yourself and-" I hung up the phone. I hate it when he does that, treating me like a baby. But I feel warm inside when I heard him saying all that.

I hid behind an air duct opening sticking out from the rooftop. It was like hide and seek. I had to make sure that no one – superhero or bad guy, could notice I was here. Taking a peek at Dave once every few minutes to monitor what was going on, I planned my moves in my head and waited.