The Descent

Chapter 29: The Voice Behind Me

Whiteness. When I woke up, I expected myself to be in my room. But I wasn't. Instead, I was in a very white room, sleeping on a rather tall bed with a rather hard mattress and pillow. Sitting up, I couldn't feel anything clinging onto my body anymore. My uniform was gone, and it took me a bit of time to remember where it went. Instead, I was in the kind of gown that patients in a hospital would wear. Bright yellow light was coming in from the window. It was morning.

"Mindy? You're finally awake." A woman's voice said beside me. I turned to look at her, and for a second, I thought I was seeing the woman in Daddy's comic – my mother – but I was still waking up from my sleep. It was Dave's girlfriend. I had never seen her up close before, and for some reason, she was frightening. For some reason, I didn't really like her. She reached out to take my hand, but the moment I felt her silky skin, I pulled my hand away. I didn't like her touching me. For a second, she seemed surprised at me, but she smiled quickly at me in the kind of way I hate – the kind you give a regular kid, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Miranda. I'm Dave's…" She stopped and rolled her eyes about, as if searching for the right word. She was either too stupid or think I was stupid to know what was it.

"Girlfriend, I know." I said, saving her the trouble. That surprised look came back to her. It went away again when she looked at me in another way, like as if she was missing me, but we had never really met before. That look reminded me a little of Dave when I was trying hard to convince him to take me as his sidekick, his Robin, "Where's Dave?"

"He's outside with his father. They're both talking to the doctor." She replied, returning to smiling at me, as if we'd known each other for a long time. I couldn't remember ever meeting her before. Something was wrong with Miranda. Awkward silence of her shifting her glances back and forth between me and the room, "You're going to be fine." I didn't like the way she was talking to me. I didn't like her at all. I couldn't understand myself, but it felt like the right feeling, "The first time it happens, it can be difficult but-"

"Don't, Miranda! Don't talk to me as if I'm some baby!" I couldn't help but to shout. This time, she looked as if I punched her, with her jaw hanging stupidly ajar. I didn't like the way she was talking to me. The moment I shouted, I knew I wanted Dave next to me. The woman does not understand who I was, how I felt and what I needed. The more she said the more I felt worse, the more it was biting me inside.

"I'm sorry. I just- I used to have a- Never mind." Miranda managed to blurt out. I was feeling a little better – the pain down there wasn't as bad, but everything else felt sore. When everything that happened came back to me, I couldn't help but to think of the bad guy's neck I swallowed and coughed back out, and the thought was still making me sick. I knew I had to shut up now, or I might make another puddle again. My stomach was a balloon filled with too much water, so I didn't even want to move. Dave's girlfriend stood up, finally making a move to leave, "I'm going to check on them. I'll tell them you're awake." She looked upset, but it didn't matter to me. I was the one who couldn't remember things! I was the one beaten up every day! The one lying on the sick bed feeling like crap! "Get well soon." I didn't even see her leave. Footsteps. The door opened and closed. For a second the door was open, I could hear Dave and 'dad' talking.

I could see Miranda's shape behind the blurry glass of the door. She was just standing there, and I could hear her voice in murmurs. I was alone for a moment, and it was doing things to me. Regret. Maybe I shouldn't have talked to Dave's girlfriend that way. The pain, this… period thing was doing things to me. Trying to push myself up on the bed, to sit up, I gave up half way – my hands were a little numb, and my arms still pretty sore. My back was worse, but nothing compared to what's down there.

The murmurs stopped after a while, and the next time I cranked my head up I saw that the blurry window on the door was blocked by more than Miranda's shape, just before the door opens. I couldn't see Dave. A man in a white coat came in first. The doctor, who reminded me of a goat with his white hair and beard. Then after him came 'dad' and Miranda. My stomached twisted itself even more. Felt sick. Dave abandoned me. But no, he came in after 'dad'. He was just hidden behind that big oaf, the last one to enter my sick room.

Doctor Goat came up to me, one of his arms hugging a clipboard while the other was flipping through it. Everyone and everything was making me nervous, the way they were all silent and serious. The pinches I could feel inside of me weren't helping. "Well…. Mandy Lizewski…" The doctor said as he was flipping more papers and I cringed at him mentioning my new name. What? What is it, you old coot? It felt like guinea pigs were gnawing at me from the inside – furry like the ones I would see at the pet store too. Doctor Goat wasn't helping. He was taking forever.

"You'll be skipping ropes and playing hide-and-seek in no time." The doctor droned like the oldest thing in the world, "Other than some broken capillaries – those tinsy little tubes in your body that carry your blood-" Doctor Goat sure knew how to make me angry – he was lucky I was too tired to do anything but lie there, "Resulting in some bruises, you're fine. As for your monthly period, I'm giving you some syrup to make the pain go away." He laughed, and I cringed, "Don't worry, you won't have to swallow anything, and the syrup should taste just fine – they're made especially for good kids like you. You won't feel this much pain every month, not to worry – most of it was due to those bruises we talked about in and around your uterus." I could almost faint.

Later…

The sick room was mine for the rest of the day – Doctor Goat said so. After hearing the goodbyes and get-well-soons from Miranda and 'dad' before they went to work, I was left alone with Dave. He was playing hooky for me, but he didn't look very impressed.

"You didn't tell me where you were going." Dave wasn't shouting or screaming his head off, but his voice really carried through in the room. What he said shut me up and threw my thoughts way off, "You're supposed to be my sidekick, Mindy. If there's something that needs a superhero, I'm supposed to take the lead."

"You didn't tell me." It was all I could say, something feeble and weak, like the punches I had been giving him in Safehouse D. The look on his face said it all. He had words lined up for me, all prepared for me, the way I used to line up one roundhouse kick after another, jabs and hooks shortly later. I could feel it in my guts.

"So I'm telling you now." Dave countered, calm and in control, "What were you doing anyway?" He was looked at me with dead serious eyes. I couldn't meet that kind of gaze, so I looked away. It wasn't exactly a stroll in the park, where I went yesterday. With that kind of look on Dave's face, I knew I was in trouble. It was all in his eyebrows and lips. I was supposed to be Hit-Girl, and I couldn't believe the power he had over me. Only Daddy had so far been able to control me… or the girl that I was, that I was becoming again. Dave was filling his shoes, even if he had to go through hell to do it.

"I promised Daddy, Dave. Those paintings on the wall…" My mind became messy, and the remaining groaning pain and woozy sleepiness in me wasn't helping, "He died without killing them all, the guineas who took my Mom away. I promised Daddy I'd protect the city for him if he-" Did Dave really killed Daddy? I forced that thought away. It was all a lie. Everything Demoness said were all lies. The thought of my real Daddy's death felt painful, even if I couldn't exactly remember everything – I knew how he died, how it devastated me that I didn't want to remember anymore, but I couldn't remember just how devastated I was. Still, I was sad enough. Dave understood, and he came closer. The sound of a tissue being pulled out of a cardboard box came from above me, and before I knew what was coming, I felt the soft caress of the tissue wiping away the hot tears burning my cheeks.

I gravitated towards Dave, just like how I always did. It was like hanging on a ledge a hundred floors up – wherever that came from. "Come here." He said as he leaned over to embrace me. "I'll help you, but you've got to work with me here. You need to trust me." I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew there was care in it.

"Okay." I agreed. Dave was always there for me. He had always thought about me. He was right and I was wrong, and I was in hospital because of it.

The Next Day…

Mindy was a little more daring this time. There was less hesitation when we began, and even less when we started. She came at me, full force unleashed – well, as much force as she could unleash anyway after the brunt of her beatings and period was over. She was getting better, throwing moves I did not expect at me, changing her tactics on the fly. I could barely block her – not much of a compliment considering my age and expertise. I hadn't even really been tested against the real deal.

A straight punch I dodged by leaning to the side, a hook I blocked, followed by an undercut that caught me in the guts but was underpowered. Mindy launched herself into a jumping kick, ambitiously going for my face, but it was too easy to get out of the way. She was getting sloppy and slower. It wasn't much of a surprise. The only real improvement she could really make for the next few days was recovery from the sudden emergence of her womanhood and disastrous mission.

As she flew past me and stumbled after landing, all it took was a mercifully weak kick in the back for me to floor her, face first. Mindy groaned as she met the floor. She wasn't getting up immediately. It wasn't our first practice match for the day. We'd been going at it for just over an hour, on and off with long breaks in between. She was getting better, but I couldn't let her know that. It'd throw a wrench at my plans. She had to believe her skills were on a plateau, and her cowgirl attitude towards her injuries and menstruation helped with that.

"I don't think this is working out, Mindy." Just like how I rehearsed it in front of a mirror, I said, giving her my best disappointed tone and look, shaking my head in fake disbelief. I'd even make sure she was looking at me first for the best effect.

"What're you talking about?" A look of dread was starting to form on her face. It was working. If only I'd known how to act years ago, I would have stood a chance at being casted in a school play and earn myself the adoration of the local female population.

"I'm talking about our Batman/Robin arrangement, Mindy. I'm talking about you being Hit-Girl." I was brainstorming about what to say days ago. What would Alfred have to say to get Batman to quit? What would it take for Batman to hang his cape? I'd even watched the movies again to get it right. Mindy matched me with an equally disappointed look, all the stronger as she was sitting on the mat, exhausted and looking sad. She didn't reply, so I continued. I gave her a double-take of my most disappointed look possible. Looking at the floor as if I could see her death written on it like the oracle in 300. Turning my back on her to cement it, just like how it happened in the movies a thousand times. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have put you in danger. I wanted so much to see Hit-Girl in action again that I forgot to take care of you. I'm just being selfish." Part of it was true. I was just about going nuts when I saw Mindy the way she was the night before yesterday.

"Dave – What on earth are you talking about?" My adopted sister repeated herself, but I knew she understood what I was going at. I turned to face her again. The look of surprise had not left her. Her eyes were widened, mouth agape, looking utterly horrified at what territory I was heading into.

"You can't go back to being… her again, Mindy." I went straight for the front and centre. There was no use beating around the bush anymore. I'd already shaken her up enough, "You've lost too much and I'm not just talking about-"

"DAVE. Isn't that why we're training!?" Mindy exploded and I jumped. Before I knew it, she was on her feet, the paleness of lethargy gone in a second when I'd pushed the wrong button without knowing.

"You aren't improving at all, not even a single bit." I lied, trying to keep to the plan in the face of a frighteningly angry Mindy. I'd been inching towards a table, and I finally sat down. I needed as much comfort as possible to think straight, what with the shit hitting the fan, "It's been days, and we hadn't even move on to weapons yet. I'm just Dave, Mindy, and Kick-Ass on the side. If you can't remember everything you learnt from Big Daddy, I can't give it back to you." Mindy seemed to have calmed down after I'd explained my piece – that was a start. She was acting worriedly bipolar. She was angry, and now she was facing the floor, eyes downcast, sure signs of upset. Her hands had nowhere to go, so she squeezed them into fists, those trembling fists with sharp and solid knuckles jutting out. "And if you can't get it all back, it's just too dangerous for you to do this."

"And that's just your skills alone. You're still trying to remember other things. I bet you hardly even know yourself." I continued, trying to take her down spiralling into accepting what I wanted for her. Those days of planning had to count for something, and I was starting to believe that it was all working. Mindy would be safe again soon, "Yeah, that's dangerous too."

"But I promised Dad-" She tried to counter my arguments, but I didn't plan on letting her.

"Your Dad would have wanted you safe. He was batshit crazy, but I know that for sure." For some reason, that did not sit well with her. She was back to getting pissed off at me again, if her frown and shaking fists were any indication.

"You don't know my Dad!" She spat at me, "You don't know me! Dave! You can't do this to me!" It was then that I realised how pointless it was to argue. It could walking in circles, take a nosedive for the worst then defy gravity again, jumping back up if only to take another plunge into horrible TV drama territory again. I turned and walked away. The water dispenser was tons more preferable to that. "Don't you dare ignore me!"

Dave was walking away, more interested in water than his sister. He was going back on his words – just because things were getting a little rougher, and he wasn't even the one taking it all – the beatings, the tentacles from down below, Demoness!

It made me mad, really mad. I couldn't think of anything else but what he said, and how he was just going to take everything back. There were racks of weapons around the sparring mat, separating us from the crazy number of guns on the walls. Racks of weapons – sticks, spears, swords, things I had no words I could remember for, most of them looked like they came in from China or Japan or some country around there I didn't know about.

I was mad, and there was a spear just beside me. I pulled it out. It was twice my height, even taller than Dave. It was heavy. It was sharp. Nasty. I didn't care. Dave betrayed me and I wanted him to feel the pain I felt. I charged at him with it. Imagined bashing him over the head, even stabbing him through the chest with it. His blood, yes, Mindy, you won't even get his blood on you, the red tassel will make sure. A clean way to take care of business I won't mind collecting the blood for later. God, the Chinese are geniuses thousands of years of war right in your hands! Good good good you are on the right path the right path

Dave heard me coming. He twisted around and grabbed the other end of my spear. He was fast. He was Kick-Ass. My hands were already beginning to feel weak. They were trembling. My knuckles were white, that much I could see before I felt a sharp pain in my side, and I was flying back, landing on my bum. The spear was out of my hands. When I looked up, I saw that it was in Dave's. Instead of pointing it at me, he threw it aside. You dumb blondie

"I know Mindy. Very well." Dave said coolly. He came closer. He wasn't stomping around madly, but his footsteps were heavy. I drew in my legs. I guess I was afraid. I didn't mean to, but I had stepped out of line. He defeated me in every way, but him flooring me again was just a taste of what was to come, "She wouldn't have tried to kill me." With every word, he was coming closer. I didn't dare to look at him. I might have crawled a little away.

"I- That- I'm sorry-" Shame was burning itself into my cheeks and chest. When I came back to my senses, I'd realised what I had done and I hated myself for it. I could barely remember. I was too mad. What's happening to me?

"She wouldn't have endangered innocent lives!" I could hear his voice. He was gritting his teeth, holding back something worse than disappointment and anger. Thinking back, Dave could be right. I might have gone a little overboard. But...

"I just – I want to be with you-" I stumbled as I rushed through my words, but he wouldn't let me speak. He was getting bigger, getting close. I could feel myself shrinking. I could see him better and better.

"She wouldn't have endangered herself!" He continued, ignoring whatever I said. I could see the muscles beneath his clothes, the knuckles poking out of his hands whenever he wasn't pointing at me or swinging them.

"I have to avenge Daddy-" I exclaimed. It felt wrong for him to accuse me of that, but his answer to that came quickly from before. Daddy would have wanted me alive and fine above all else. I remembered. If I fall, he would worry about me first before anything else, even if there were a hundred meanies coming up behind him.

"She wouldn't have treated her father like dirt!" Dave was seething as he scolded – really scolded me, stabbing at me with a highly accusing finger. I could feel it digging into my skin even when it was miles away. His words felt worse, like spoons gouging my eyes out or a knife cutting a mound of fat and muscle out of me, and the worst part was I deserved it all. It felt that way. He didn't have to strap me to a chair to do it. There was nothing I could say. It was back to having a staring contest with the ground again. No wonder prisoners were blindfolded before a firing squad. They wouldn't know what to do with their eyes. "You're not Hit-Girl anymore, Mindy. As much as I want you to kick ass beside me, it's just not right."

"What am I supposed to do? Finger paint every day?" A final urge to fight lurched within me, but I knew I had lost, and it came out weak and half-hearted. Another urge – the urge to just curl up in bed and sleep came up in me.

"You used to enjoy normal things. I think you still do. I want you to go back to that." Dave said, "Take your time to heal. Even Bruce Wayne needs to retire. I needed to retire. Yeah, try doing art or writing or something or- or learn the piano, or the flute. I just don't want to wake up one day seeing you all over the news like last time. I don't want to wake up seeing you hurt or killed, Mindy." He's lying, kiddie The thought of learning how to He has always play the been lying piano brought a smile to my face, but I suppressed it quickly. It helped that my Daddy came into the picture again, along with all those guineas He killed your still out there who were responsible for my father parents' death.

"I'll help you avenge your father. If anything, I owe him that." He said. It didn't feel satisfying, but it was the best I was ever going to have from him, "I just need some time. I need your trust and your promise that you won't do anything stupid." It brought a sour taste to my mouth. I promised my father. Yet Dave was right. No he's not, you're just a Barbie. I couldn't, not at first. But in the end, I knew I had no choice, "Well?"

"Cross my heart… Hope to die." I promised him. But the voice behind me became furious. I had been following Dave's orders, and she didn't like that.

"Good. Now, how about we clean up and have a sundae at Monroe's? My treat." Dave offered. The thought of a huge cup of Hot Fudge sundae brought another smile to my face. It felt almost fake, numb even to me, and as Dave walked away, it faded quickly.

And just out of sight, behind Dave, was Demoness. She was masked, but from the curl of her lips, I could tell she was unhappy. She came closer, and closer, and I ran.

2 days later…

18 July 2011, Monday. A day to remember. We were growing, a huge percentage every time, and today was our first meeting with another superhero team. The Street Underrats headed by The Refuse sure don't smell or look good, but they were probably the most reliably good of the many groups springing up in New York City, that much I knew from my recent consultation with the contacts I had in the NYPD. We headed out together on routine patrol, our own team split into three groups while theirs forming a fourth. No action, probably because the criminal underbelly was dead afraid by now. But of course, we gotta maintain a high alert. I was always on high alert. I hadn't backed down since getting shot when I was fresh out of my teens. Any peace had always felt like the calm before a storm ever since. D'Amico's men could be planning something for all I know.

Hoisting up the man-sized table-top I had been carrying into the main hall from the cargo lift, I rolled it on top of the conference table. "Wa-la! Presto and alakadamn!" It felt good to celebrate even a little. It was custom-ordered, 300 dollars and well worth it. The Justice Forever logo Kick-Ass, Battleguy and Nightbitch was printed on top, shining like the American flag. A beacon of hope. What the desperate and destitute needed. "Them boys designed a very tasty logo." I said to Eisenhower to the side. I'd go it all the time. Dogs were easier to trust.

But she didn't reply, at least not in the usual way. "What's the matter, girl? You hear something?" I said to her. Sitting by her cage and ignoring the beefy dog treats I'd put on her bowl, her ears were standing and sharp like spears ready for war. Her eyes in the direction of the corridor leading down to the cargo lift. Barking and whining, I knew what she was trying to tell me. It was just as I feared. "C'mon, let's go see, c'mon!" I ordered, and she followed. Good thing I still had my axe handle and Smith & Wesson on me.

Taking the elevator up, I opened the cargo bay doors into the night. It wasn't exactly subtle, which was why I had both my pieces out. Odds were, it could just be Neonstyle Epilepsy forgetting his chemical lightsticks. He had far too many of them to keep track of. Yet, as I stared into the night, there was only a deserted alley. No felonies. Yet Eisenhower kept barking at it, as if there were low-lives behind every cardboard box, dumpster and trashpile littering the alley. Except the alley was quite clear and clean. As far as alleys went. I'd made sure of that, not just for charity but also for security. The only place to hide was behind a trashbin, but I would have seen the intruder by now. "Anybody out here?" It felt like a question for ghosts, punctuated by Eisenhower's aggressive threats. My dog was getting old, just like me. Speak of the devil – I could feel another coughing fit coming down the road. "I don't see anything."

I would have said more to Eisenhower, had it not been my coughing fit coming in uninvited early. Instead, I opted to lock her in for lights out early. "You're going to have to stay in there until you calm down, you lunatic." I said to her as I returned my handle to the rack by the exit. Age was boiling her brains faster than I thought it would – it felt like I could lose her to old age, and it wasn't a good feeling. It was probably time for Eisenhower's next visit to the vet. I would have to make an appointment the next day.

Yet Eisenhower kept barking. The cage and cushions inside weren't helping. She'd normally settle in for a sleep any other time. "I wonder what's bothering you?" I asked her, really concerned, and not just about her anymore. Eisenhower's alarm might still be working perfectly.

Which was when a voice came up behind me. "I know."