But that was only the start of the bad news...
While the Mother Fucker was out supporting all kinds of horrendous villainy, from petty fires caused by his nameless soldiers to killing that traitor Sal Bertolinni and raping that stupid cow, Black Heart was back at the lair, directing the various crews into shaping the place up. It was a hard job, strictly because there were just so many people to yell at. And lonely. It just wasn't the same being the one doing all of the yelling... She always knew that the top was a lonesome place, but never in her wildest dreams would Black Heart ever have guessed that the place under it was just as hollow...
Taxing as it was tedious, someone had to do all of the boring crap, and being so high in the chain of command, it was only natural that it would fall on her shoulders. But she didn't mind, because it kept her plenty busy. Too busy to worry about her personal life... And yet, as busy as she was, it somehow seemed to magnify every crack in her heart...
The world is cruel, the world is wicked. It's I alone whom you can trust in this whole city. I am your only friend. I who keep you, teach you, dress you- Her cellphone began to ring with the Alan Menken tune chosen especially for her dear friend. Sighing, she grabbed the device from her over-sized boots, hiding in a corner so she could talk in private. "Knight. What are up to, calling me? You know that I'm..." She trailed off, gazing sideways at the gigantic tank being measured for fish decor. "at work."
Knight had no idea what that meant, since he had moved out to LA a year ago to pursue his dream of becoming a big-name actor. He assumed it had something to do with her boyfriend, since the last time he had checked, they were a couple of lazy potheads. "Mr. Possessive actually allows you out of the house? Color me impressed."
"He's not... I can do what I want!" She used to having these conversations with Knight. Too used to it.
He snorted, "Ok, Loki." Fucking memes. "So, since you're allowed to see the light of day without your master's permission, how about you come see me?"
"I can leave the house when I want - I can't fly out to LA on a whim, even if it is for you." The villainess told him flatly, softening her tone so he would know that it wasn't personal. "But I do miss you."
"Don't have to." It sounded like he was sticking his tongue out at her, and knowing him, he probably was. "I'm coming back to New York tonight - I got my first big gig."
It was her turn to snort, "Irony much?"
"Yeah, yeah, you can be a smart-ass bitch all you want, or you can come pick me up from the airport in ten, and we can hang out for a while. Unless you have to be back in before all the fun people come out to play." Knight still wasn't Chris' biggest fan, but he acknowledged the fact that he was stuck with him so long as he was going to be friends with Emily. They had been friends for years, and he wasn't prepared to throw that away for some guy.
She looked down at her costume. "Ten? I have to change first, but I can do fifteen."
"Fine," Knight sighed with great emphasis, acting as if she had suggested the most unappealing thing in the world for him. "But if I'm swept off my feet by Mr. Right before you can collect me, just know that its your own fault you lost me..."
Chuckling, Black Heart began to scribble down instructions for the drones, taping the old take-out receipt she used for paper on one of the stripper-poles (the paper was one she had found littering the floor, while the pen had been at the bar). "Yeah, and who might be so blind as to steal you away? That one imaginary fan I have yet to meet?"
"Hush your mouth! You know that Clancy's shy!" He tried to sound seriously indignant at her light-hearted jab, but it was hard when he knew that he was going to be seeing his best friend again, mind already buzzing with various chatter and juicy bits of gossip to share. "So unshackle yourself from the kitchen and hurry up!"
Sure, you can't hear a nod over the phone, but you can still sense an eye-roll, especially if you know the person well enough, which considering Knight had bought Emily many a feminine product in the past, it was safe to call an understatement of epic proportions. "Right... I'll just go get that key and be off to find some curtains to make myself a dress, provided that my animal friends are able to distract the wicked villain long enough for me to sing my ballad of healing and love."
"Just be here, bitch!" He said with love.
With a final giggle, Black Heart said her farewells to the handful of goons skulking the halls and was off to grab a fresh change of clothes, calling her boyfriend to leave him a message while he worked. She had no idea how long she'd be gone (she supposed quite a while though), so it was only right that as his partner, she would tell him she had plans. Would he understand? Probably not, but this was one of those 'better to ask forgiveness than permission' kind of things. Besides, it wasn't like anything was going to happen...
Not yet...
[About Fifteen Minutes Later...]
Traffic sucked, but it gave Emily the time she needed to be dressed in ordinary clothes and ready to hang out with her friend. It wasn't her best look to date, but a striped hoodie (the pull-over variety) and the world's most shredded pair of jeans was better than her Black Heart costume. More comfortable too. Knight had more than enough to give her shit for, so he didn't need any extra ammo...
Holding up a glittery, neon pink poster board sign that read 'late slave-friend' (garnering several dirty looks from the various passersby), Knight was already waiting outside the airport, his bags stacked by his side. He ran up and grabbed Emily in a back-popping hug as the chauffeur handled his luggage. "Em! And you brought Alfred to take me to my hotel!"
The older gentleman wasn't happy about how he was identified by the young man, but he was more than used to it by this point in his career. Emily gave him an apologetic smile over her friend's head, since that was where her family had started out before rising to the top ranks. "Jesus, put me down before you snap me in half!"
Knight had gotten stronger since they had last seen each other. Grinning, he carried her to the car, setting her down on the edge of the seat, allowing her to scoot in herself. "You wish!" He slid in himself, never tired of her boyfriend's wealth, "So, marry into his money yet?"
Situating herself so she was looking at her friend, one leg tucked beneath her body, Emily shook her head as she chided him, "You know that I don't care about his money."
"I know that. What I don't know is how you'd be so so cool with going back to the life of the boring and poor after all this luxury - I know I'd miss it like hell, and I'm only in it for five seconds at a time!" He looked sideways at her, considering the way she was holding herself, wondering to himself if she was happy with her situation. "But seriously, you two have been together forever now. Do you think that your ever going to get hitched?"
Leave it to Knight to get to the serious stuff after all of five seconds. "I don't know... I can't see my life without him, but even still, I just don't know what I see..." Looking back at when they had first gotten together, she certainly wouldn't have expected them to be super-villains today. "We don't talk about that."
Truth be told, they really weren't talking about a lot lately, not unless it somehow involved the Toxic Mega Cunts or killing Kick-Ass. Chris was obsessed. It was even starting to get to the point where it was ALL he ever thought about, and that was a problem for her. Of course she wanted revenge on them for killing her father, and John, whom she also viewed as a father-figure, but not so much that it was all that consumed her. She wanted her boyfriend back, even for five seconds...
Lost to the intimate details of the situation, Knight still knew that she was hurting over the loss of her family, that it was a wound that was only getting bigger by the day as more and more people she loved vanished forever, and he was worried that it was going to really cost her if Chris had gone too. "You should. I worry about you Em, and if you can't tell me what's up, then you really should tell him what's bothering you. If I can pick it up this fast, he should already know that there's something..."
Fuck, Knight was right! He should have known that was she unhappy, that there was a wedge... He should have seen it even before she had, before it could grow into this glass wall that divided them... She didn't have to be the number one priority on his list, but she still should be on it...
Dwelling on that conversation for the remainder of the night, it was obvious that she wasn't herself...
[Later That Night...]
Returning home, The Mother Fucker's hot pocket was on autopilot, aware of what was happening around her but unable to respond, as if it mattered. Chris was so wrapped up in what he had done with the team that day that he hadn't even gotten her message until they were sitting on the couch after dinner, cuddled up while they watched tv, where he took her frozen demeanor as simply being tired, so he didn't even bother going into the details of what she had done. He really didn't care about her at all, did he...? And if he didn't care now, had he ever truly cared before?
Turning in early that night since he had "a lot to look out for" in the morning, he merely suggested that she do the same, naturally saying it in as rude a way as he possibly could. She just kind of blinked at him. Maybe thirty minutes after he went to sleep, Emily went into the kitchen. Once in there, she went straight for the cutlery, grabbing the sharpest knife that they owned, and once it was in her hand, she carried it to the bathroom. Not the guest bathroom, but their master bath, where he would find her in the morning...
Setting the knife of the counter, Emily looked at her own reflection in the mirror, wondering if she had had this feature or that, would he have really loved her? Was it because she was part Latina? Was it his mother? Or was the entirety of their relationship based upon the thought that this was his only chance at not dying alone? So many things ran through her mind, mostly terrible 'what-ifs', but one thing kept coming back to her...
Digging through the counter, she pulled out a tube of her lip gloss (the darkest color she could find), and uncapped it, writing on the mirror a short message. It was probably a cliché, but at least she could say that she had left her final message in the darkness, where she was going.
I'm sorry I was such a disappointment...
You never loved me, I can see that now.
I don't hate you, but this is your fault.
Satisfied as much as anyone can be with a suicide note, Emily dropped her make-up back in the drawer. "Good bye, Chris..."
Standing over the sink, she took the blade to her left wrist, cutting a deep gash. She was pretty sure that she had gotten an arty, because she was already feeling woozy... Falling to her knees, Emily slipped down the counter, fairly certain that she was getting her blood everywhere. She felt bad for the maid, but it was too late now... Her head hit the floor, bouncing off the marble.
Shit, she never told him...
Everything was starting to get darker, but she had to hold on for just a moment longer. She had to tell him... Using her own blood as ink, Emily wrote one last message, and then everything was black...
Yeah, meant to say it last time, but I forgot... Emily's really crazy. Like, really crazy. And what moment with Javier wasn't great? Seriously. Props if you recognize the song used for the ring tone. I tried to refrain from that line about the 'hot pocket', but more than looping in my mind, it's in my blood... Ok, maybe not, but it is stuck in my head. And I know, this chapter really went back to that dark place...
So, what do you think her final message was? Thoughts, anyone? Reviews please!
Kick-Ass is the property of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr. Emily Vela is mine. Knight and Charlotte too.