Black Heart was one of the bad guys, so why was she finding herself second guessing everything that she had always wanted? Even as a small girl, she had been enamored with the villains on tv and in the movies, and now as an adult, she was on the arm of the single-most vile soul in all of New York, if not the world, so shouldn't be happier? But if she were happy, even a little, she wouldn't be waking up in the hospital, a bandage around her arm and a file that claimed she was a danger to herself.

Looking around at the room, moderate and private only because of who she was dating, the villainess frowned over at the empty chair by her bedside. Bleak as the horizon spread before the broken, the entire room was a repetitive theme of staleness and dismay. Sighing, she wondered why she had been stupid enough to think for even a moment that the Mother Fucker would actually put a pause on his schemes to at least make sure that she was alive. The sidekick supposed that that was the biggest problem with dating a sociopath bent on revenge and pure chaos - she would never be a first priority. Not even once...

The sad thing was, she just wanted to be a priority, even if it was his very last one. At least if she had died, in some way, it would have given her what she had wanted, but since she had lived, Emily was never going to see that wish come true... In so many ways, Emily felt just like the fly buzzing over the shaded lamp, trying so hard to get to the light inside, not knowing until it was too late that the minute that the light came into contact with its skin that it was going to die. Just like the light warms but can't feel, Chris was ignorant of Emily's efforts, of her suffering. He was inanimate...

Rolling over on her side, Black Heart turned her back to the doorway, to the large, costumed goon placed on her protection detail (so now everyone in the Toxic Mega Cunts knew of her weakness), to the loud rolling of passing carts and patients, to the light shining by the door. To hope.

[Meanwhile...]

Rolling up to the middle of suburbia in a skin-tight leather outfit in broad daylight - not to mention being surrounded by a group of others in the same kind of grab - was definitely a rush of adrenaline. But then again, that could have been more to do with the plan than being seen by a group of kids and some old fucker mowing his lawn. It was simply really - go in, kill any unnecessary witnesses, and make that cunt pay. Were they expecting to gun down children before offing the geezer? Not at all. Did they care? Not in the slightest.

"Are you sure she's on their team?" The Tumor inquired of his boss.

"The stupid gash posted on her superhero page that she's dating Kick-Ass, so yeah, I'm damn sure." The Mother Fucker glanced down the formation at the man that had addressed him

"But which one is it?" He pressed on, throwing a long glance at all the neat little rows of houses, each one more identical than the last.

"It's hard to say. All these fucking houses look the same." Chris was getting more and more agitated by the second. He had the directions and the exact house number printed out, but if these assholes couldn't even look for the one they needed, what the fuck was he paying them for?! Being the genius that he was, he thought to ask the brats for directions, since they would likely know. "Hey! You guys know where Miranda Swedlow lives?"

One of them pointed at a house over from where they stood, "Sure. Miranda is in that house over there!"

"Are you guys superheroes?" Another one of the four children inquired, which made sense it seemed like everyone in costume these days was a 'hero', but Chris didn't care enough to even bother to pay attention which of the runts had spoken.

It was The Tumor who replied first, "Not exactly."

"Is Miranda a superhero?"

"No, son. She just fucks superheroes." Well, technically she was a part of the Justice Forever team, but he figured that her role was probably more of the team slut than an actual participating member. Crossing his arms so he could reach for his guns, Chris went on to explain, "That's why we're going to hurt her..."

They didn't stand a chance... The Mother Fucker mowed them down mercilessly while the rest of his team watched. Some of them genuinely were shocked by his actions, but Mother Russia merely stood there, looking kind of bored if anything, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before she would start working to earn her paycheck, so she figured that he could have his fun. Although, the thought of what his girlfriend might say if she had seen this crossed her mind. That girl had proven herself to be just as crazy as her boyfriend, but Mother Russia could still see that there was something soft inside of her...

"Holy-!" Black Death was easily the most shaken.

The Mother Fucker simply shrugged as he reloaded, "Oh, come on. So iCarly loses a few viewers? Give me a fucking break!" Aware that the old man had jumped off his mower and was in the middle of trying to flee, Chris shot him through the back of the head, redecorating the side of his home across the street. "Now tear this place apart while I go find his whore. Do what you like 'til I say you can stop."

It was Black Death to give the affirmative, "Roger that, boss-man."

Hearing all of the gunshots, the residents all began to run out of their homes (well, most of them, but a certain red-head wasn't budging from her place just yet from what they could tell), and each one was dealt with accordingly. Marching up to the front door while The tumor stood at his back, the Mother Fucker shouted up as he strode over to her house, "You hear that Miranda? We're coming to get you, sweetheart!"

But she didn't hear any of it, because as luck would have it, she was watching TV on her laptop, ear buds plugged in so she didn't hear a thing going on outside. Not until her front door broke, and a man in a mask was helping himself inside. Ripping her earphones out, she tried to race to her room so she could maybe buy enough time to call the police. Being Night Bitch had prepared her for quite a lot, but she was no match for more than one guy with a gun.

"Hello, Night Bitch!" The Mother Fucker walked in, following her casually as she darted for the staircase. "She wants to take the party upstairs!" He started to sing, "We're gonna have a party!" Miranda just barely made it to her room, slamming the door shut between them. "She closed the door!"

Once more drawing his guns, he shot at the door. Hiding around the corner, half-way in her closest, she was glad that she hadn't taken the time to try to lock or barricade the door, because he could have shot her head off. It wasn't long before he had kicked down the door.

"Don't worry, darling," He had stopped singing and was back to using his normal voice, "I'm not going to kill you - I want to send a message to your boyfriend, Miranda! Let Kick-Ass know that he never should have pissed on my lawn!"

Lashing out because she wasn't completely defenseless, Night Bitch got him right in the face, "I'm not even with Kick-Ass anymore! He moved on." Shit, she really shouldn't have let that slip... Kick-Ass was a thing, for about a minute, but the way that she understood it, he had a girlfriend now, so they had stopped their late-night rendezvous. Yeah, she kinda did like him, but to be realistic, they were really heroes as much as they were really dating. And anyways, he seemed happy, so that was all that really mattered.

Wiping away some of the blood from his face while the Tumor grabbed her from behind, The Mother Fucker licked the blood from his gloved hand, smirking as he did so. Sadistic, he was getting that gleam in his eye... Getting her back, he decked her in the face, "Shut the fuck up!" Yanking his zipper down, he licked the corner of his lip as he addressed her, "You're done banging superheroes, baby..." He grinned the most evil grin as he imagined what he was going to do to her. "...It's time to see what evil dick feels like."

The fear in her eyes was very real as he prepared to penetrate her, almost like... Emily. Fuck it all, why should he be thinking of her now, at a time like this?! He needed to think of things to make him hard so he could teach this tart a lesson, but right now all his girlfriend made him think of was that scene in the bathroom...

Drinking a wee bit more that night than he normally did, Chris found himself having to wake up in the middle of the night to take a leak, but it was strange when he got out of bed, because he realized that something was missing - Emily. Where the fuck was she?! Fuck, he didn't have time to wonder... Running straight into the bathroom, not even bothering to turn on the light, he relieved himself. He had thought he stepped in something wet, but that was probably just his bladder failing him. Going to the sink, washing his hands off, he noticed that the mirror was blurry, so he finally got around to turning on the lights.

"The fuck...?" He read the message two times before his eyes registered the light, scanning it another five before it sunk in what she had written.

Wait... If this was here, then where was she...? Looking around, he saw that her shit was still everywhere, so she didn't leave, but then where was she? Tired eyes still trying to wake up, he looked at the counter again, realizing for the first time that there was blood everywhere. Legitimately scared, Chris tried to back up, but stumbled when he bumped into something that shouldn't have been there. Terrified of what he was going to find, he chanced it and saw that it was Emily, her hand still slick with the blood of a half-finished heart...

"Emily?!" He fell to his knees, trying to get her to wake up. She wouldn't move. "This isn't funny..." She wasn't breathing. "Emily, get your ass up!" He tried shaking her shoulders to get her to stir, but all that was happening was he was getting himself covered in her blood. "You can't leave me too... You promised."

Screaming out, a maid finally came, and upon seeing the boy frantically cradling the girl in his arms, called 911. He stayed up all night and well into the morning, panicking the entire time she was unconscious, not leaving her side for an instant. When the team came to get him that afternoon for the attack on Miranda Swedlow, he almost didn't go.

But then he remembered the message she had left for him on the bathroom floor...

Even now, he failed to see how she could blame him and still say that she would always love him. It was completely mental! Even for her! Fuck, thanks to her, he couldn't even manage to get it up... Stupid mother fucking cunt... Out of everyone in the world, why did he have to love her?!

"Shit!" What must this look like to his men...?

Trying to pump himself up with his back to everyone else, Chris could hear The Tumor over his shoulder, "What are you doing?! Come on!"

Fucking A', the minute that Emily gets out of the hospital with a clean bill of health, she was so going to pay for this... "Yeah, ok! I'm just..." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he snapped, "I'm not in the mood!"

Sassy, she remarked, "I guess evil dick feels limp."

So incredibly pissed beyond words, The Mother Fucker turned towards them, issuing a new set of orders, "Hurt her! Bad."

[Back At The Hospital...]

Drowning internally, the forlorn patient didn't immediately hear the doctor entering the room, some doe-eyed nurse in tow, eager to learn her job. "Now, miss Vela, I hear that you where found by your boyfriend in your home late last night? Where is he now?"

Where indeed? "...Busy, I guess."

The nurse frowned at her blatant bitterness, troubled to hear that, but the doctor was more vetted than to take concern in the lives of his charges. "I see." He scanned her files once more, checking that everything was in order. "We're obligated to keep you on for another day or so, just to be sure that you aren't going to try to hurt yourself again. We wouldn't want that-"

"Good one, doc." She let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark, "I'm sure that you personally care so much for every suicidal psycho that strays in here."

Honestly, after thirty years, he really didn't care at all about the problems of all these whining adolescents, but he wasn't so hardened as to not care about anything at all, not just yet. "No, not really - I think you're all just a bunch of babies and attention seekers, but you can bet I mind it when some daddy's girl goes off the handle and puts more than one life on the line."

She had never had a doctor talk to her like that, especially not knowing her situation in the slightest, "You don't know-"

He rolled his wrinkled eyes, handing the wide-eyed nurse the charts so he could check on Emily's vitals, "Oh, wah, I'm too fat, I'm ugly, my boyfriend's cheating on me. It's always the same story with you girls. I hate to break it to you, but way back in the day, when your grandparents were sucking their first teat, people were facing the same problems you kids are today, and you don't see the suicide rate being as high then as it is today."

The nurse looked at him in shock, "Doctor!"

He waved her off, "Yeah, I know. 'That's no way to treat your patients'. I hear it all the damn time from that upstart..." He trailed off, referring back to Emily's chart, "Normally I would put you on a mild antidepressant, but I think you're a hazard enough, so instead I'm just going to recommend that you get started on a prenatal vitamin regiment, and slow down on all your boozing and drugs."

Ok, she was nothing compared to Chris when it came to that shit! "I don't-"

"Yeah, of course not. But your blood work says otherwise, so as your doctor, I would recommend slowing down on all that partying and getting plenty of rest. You're both going to be grateful for that advice in the long-run, believe me that, missy."

And she was the one on drugs? "What do you mean the both of us?"

The doctor and nurse exchanged glances. After a slight pause, the nurse spoke up for the first time, "You're pregnant. Didn't you know?"

[Miranda's Bedroom...]

Beaten beyond the point of recognition, her lip was not only busted and swelling uncontrollably, there was a gash over her left eye. More fucked up than any big lug in a violent action movie, Miranda looked worse than her sister did after her body had been pulled from that dumpster. But even worse than the psychical wounds was the shame and humiliation at being gang-raped by a group of thugs. Thankfully for her own mental wellness, she passed out before they take out the camera and start filming it as they took it in turns...

Looking down at their work, two of the guys were still in the middle of fixing their trousers. One of them sounded almost contrite for what they had done, almost. "Oh my God. We've gone too far this time. Even for us."

Mulling over what Emily must have been thinking to do something so selfish, The Mother Fucker looked out the window at the destruction that Mother Russia alone had wrecked. "C'mon! We need to get out of here before they send more cops!"

Well I was going to split this chapter into two, but I went against that, so instead I'm going to just put my thoughts in two separate parts, since I feel that they both take two separate tones.

For the most part, I think I did an ok job with this one... I really do like both versions of this most horrible act, and as a fan, I can say that I think I did pretty darn good with how I blended it! No, I'm completely deranged - I like little parts that make up the bigger picture, like the line about dads being bulletproof in the comics and his little song in the movie. I know, it really does sound so wrong to say, but I like those scenes for other reasons than the rape/beating. Which to be honest, I can say that I was really underwhelmed by Night Bitch's injuries when Dave visits her in the hospital. A little dusting of brown make-up here and and there? Really? Bah, that whole movie was so watered down! And yet I still love it so... And see, he does love her too, in his own way. Half-asleep, he notices that she's not there, and he almost blows off a major blow in his master plan, just to make sure that she's alright! It's so fucked, but also kinda sweet...

That so just happened! Looks like there just might be the pitter-patter of little baby Mother Fucker feet. Ok, I'm sorry, that so just took me back to Pineapple Express, "This is the product of baby fucking". And speaking of Pineapple Express, how many peeps here have seen This is the End? That movie was so incredibly awesome! There's one thing in it that kinda depresses me and makes me wonder, but OMG, that movie was fucking epic! And it really got me thinking, which is weird! Sorry, I'm a little on the hyper side of tired. Is it wrong that I was thinking of Scrubs while writing the for the doctor and the nurse? I watched that show randomly, at best. It was funny, but not enough to make me watch it regularly.

Well, I don't know what the point of asking for reviews is by this point... It seems pretty obvious by now that that is something I hold in high esteem (or whatever you want to call it), so we all know the steps without the instructions having to be regurgitated back in our faces.

Kick-Ass is the property of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr. Emily Vela is mine. Knight, and all minors too.