Filled with confidence in a stranger's idea, Emily went back to Chris, fully intending to share with him the news that she was pregnant, and that they should decide what to do about it together (positive to voice that her opinion was to abort it), but it seemed like everything was against her, because first she had just missed him leaving, and then she was given incorrect information, so she went somewhere wrong altogether, and then when she thought to try him by phone, she couldn't reach him because her phone died! Then, when she was finally able to track him down, he was too busy being pulled this way and that by everyone else, so she couldn't even find a second to fit in a word edge-wise. Sure, she could have just screamed it at him, but she figured that she had worked this hard to hide it and had waited this long to tell him, so when her lunch wasn't kicking her ass, the temporary oven figured that she could simply just pass on the information at the first convenience (which was likely going to be at some point after these next 48 hours).

S.o.L. for the next couple of days, Emily figured that it would be best to keep her head low for whatever reason, so she ducked out of the base at the first opportunity that arose, and she went back to their place. The light show should start in another few hours, so while they worked at setting everything up, she figured out the best possible place to watch everything happen.

But there was nothing. The Mother Fucker was so absolutely sure about the time line, he had perfectly mapped everything out, and already thirty minutes had passed, and still, nothing. Panicked, Emily was about to go back to the base to check on everything, but the minute she poked her toes into the cab, her phone rang.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

"Vic?" Emily answered her phone immediately, knowing it was never good when he was calling. In fact, Vic Gigante had never called her personally in the past, so she feared the worst. "Where's Chris?!"

Even through the phone, there was just no hiding the fact that something had gone so horribly wrong. "Chris has just been brought in. It's bad. Real bad. You better get down the station, pronto." He didn't have the heart to tell the kid's girlfriend over the phone that her boyfriend had just been pushed off a roof. "Angie's already on her way."

Emily didn't have time to be concerned about running into his mother, not when Chris was in serious condition. Changing her course for the station, she dimly wondered why she wasn't heading off for the hospital. "Vic, tell me what happened! If Chris is hurt, why is he at the station? Dammit, I want to talk to him!"

Hysteric, her voice was almost enough to make his eardrums bleed. He was more than used to dealing with sobbing sons and weeping wives, but this whole situation was coming as a shock all around. "You can't - he's out cold." It might have nice to tell her that it was from the doctors and their morphine, but he was more concerned with the fact that they would transferring him once the paperwork was processed. "Just get here." He hung up the phone on her, before she had the chance to scramble his brains.

Like almost everyone else, Vic was all for Emily and Chris, since at least when he a girlfriend, Chris seemed a little less bizarre than the average kid. No, he didn't think that Emily improved him any, but at least she kept him busy and out of his dad's hair. When John passed, it was with an approval of the relationship, so he saw no reason to change his mind. But all the same, he still should have had one of his men make this call to her, since there was no way in hell that his mother was going to do it...

[At The Station...]

Running like she's never run before, Emily sprinted all the way to Vic's office, refusing to stop until she saw him. He was already talking to Angie, but stopped mid-sentence when he saw Chris' girlfriend. Angie turned around, glaring daggers at the young woman, but this time it didn't stop - flying straight at her, Angie back-handed the girl. Holding her face, Emily was shocked to see that Angie was crying. Being hit was nothing new, not when it came to that family, but seeing that that woman wasn't made of stone?

"You! You little cunt, I hope you're proud of yourself!" The older woman looked as if she were about to strike Emily again, but she overcame the urge. "I always knew that you were no good! And now look at what you've done!" She pointed at the open file on Vic's desk. "My son is in jail! You know as well as anyone else that he isn't well, so why did you allow him to do this?!"

Jail?! But his brilliant plan...

Staggering back as the news hit her, the artist only barely making her way to a seat after a few moments of holding on to the door for support. The girl turned her gaze between the adults. "What happened?"

Vic didn't know exactly what to say, but they all knew that if Angie her mouth it would sound-

"He assembled a gang, and they attacked the city! But of course you would have known that if you were doing your job and watching over him!" For once, Emily agreed that Angie had every right to be mad at her, but she only wished that it was for the right reasons. "I warned him time and again that you would lead him astray, but did he listen to me? No! He listened to a cheap hoochy that probably spreads her legs for half the neighborhood the instant he has his back turned! As if it wasn't enough that he was a freak, you had to come into the picture and make him worse!" Ok, it was getting kind of old now. "Even your own father could see what trash you were!"

- A lot like that.

A nerve was definitely touched. "Don't talk about Chris like that! He's his own man, and I'm his girlfriend, not his babysitter! I put up with a lot from you, but the two things I won't is you talking about your own son like this, and you bringing up my parents. Hate on me all you want, but this is the last time that I hear you mention my family as a negative."

Angie scoffed, "Please, what can a little beaner like you do?"

Oh, if she kept pressing her like this, Angie was going to find out...!

"Ladies, Chris, remember?" Someone had to get them on track, and from the looks of things, that had to be Vic. "We have bigger things to worry about like getting Chris off." Shooting each other matching grimaces, Angie and Emily were just daring the other to say something about that accidental innuendo, but neither opened their mouths, which came as a huge shock to officer. "These charges... " He shook his head, glossing the files with his eyes. "My hands are tied."

Respectively, both of their mouths fell, "What does that mean for him?"

Shaking his head, Vic could only offer his sympathies. "I didn't call you in here to give you good news - I called you in here to brace yourselves for what's to come. Angie, your son is responsible for no shortage of deaths, and for whatever reason, you avoided that Emily. He's gonna need you both, if you can put aside your bullshit for five seconds."

For Chris, Emily would do anything, even if that meant tolerating his mother. For once, Angie completely agreed, which left her feeling as if there wasn't enough soap in the world to clean away that feeling. While Vic filled them in on the details of what he expected to happen, Chris was being prepped to be taken to a special ward in the prison. The guards might have given the women a couple of minutes with the convict, but he was still out cold.

You know, I don't think I've ever pounded out twenty-odd chapters in only a month. Kind of impressive, but a tad frustrating, as I know I can do better (quality wise, not quantity). So, yeah, going a little closer to the comics, what with Kick-Ass 3, but I am a little upset, as I would have preferred the next issue to be out, just so we have a good idea of where the story is going... Well, I guess that's what imaginations are for...

...No.

Kick-Ass is the property of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr. Emily Vela is mine. Knight, and all minors too. The song "Creep" belongs to Radiohead.