Springing up in bed with a cold sweat, Emily didn't immediately realize that her nightmares had also jarred her companion awake as well. Mumbling in a voice that promised he was still half-asleep, Dave made half an effort to stir from dreams that involved two slightly (ok, technically the levels were closer to certifiable) disturbed and unhinged girls and a lot of spandex. "What is it?"

Initially reluctant to confess what her dreams had entailed, all Emily could do was think of Chris and how he would have reacted if she had told him what it was. But then again, Dave wasn't Chris, and that was probably half the reason she hadn't ended this affair, no matter how much it was eating at her. "I was having the most horrific dream... I..." Shaking her head, it was becoming too much for her.

Sensing that perhaps it was more than just being six months pregnant - give or take - he could feel the tiredness slowly draining away as he was filled with a growing concern for the woman by his side. Ever the hero, Dave sat up, pulling her into his arms. "About Chris?" He could feel her nodding against his chest, but there was no sound coming from her lips. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Silence. But besides waking him up in the middle of the night, it wasn't really something that she could keep to herself, so Emily found herself confiding in Dave for possibly the millionth time. "As I've mentioned before, Chris is getting out soon, and more and more I find myself having these dreams... Dreams of him killing me, of him taking the baby, of him finding us together and doing all manner of things... There was even one where he sent me away to clown school." Realizing that she was getting off topic, the young mother-to-be cleared her throat, getting back to her point. "None of them were even half as bad as this..."

Sound asleep, so cozy and unaware in his bed, Chris was helpless in that empty room, the monitors off or gone. Standing over his slumbering figure, all she could hear was his steady breathing, synching every now and again with the metallic whirring and beeping of machines. It was as peaceful as it was maddening...

Foreboding as an angel of death in those solemn finial moments before life parted its living shell, Emily stood over Chris, just gazing down at him, but her face was like stone - void of all emotion. Barely even blinking, she took a common kitchen knife to this throat, slitting ear-to-ear. There was no sound; he didn't even twitch.

And then it was over. "I... I killed him. I killed him! Dave, how am I supposed to face him after all of this?! I broke his trust all over this place, and now the guilt has me killing him!" Practically screaming in his ear, he found himself glad once more for the fact that they were in a penthouse, the floors and walls of which had been soundproofed. Probably so he could beat the poor girl. Fucker. "I know I decided to try and work everything out with him, but how can I? How can I when a part of me wants to kill him? When I can't get over you? What are we going to do the day that he gets out?"

That was a question they had been asking since the beginning, and as time passed, their bond had grown considerably, making it that much harder to call it off. It wasn't that they loved Mindy and Chris any less; they just had really grown to like each other too. And what was worse was that since the neighbors had seen Dave coming and going, it would look suspicious if he just stopped coming around now that rumors were starting to circulate about Chris' release. Naturally the public was in the dark on the details, but they did know that he was getting out soon. Since Chris' uncle was taking Chris back to the house, Emily had been invited as well, but even with the perks that would provide to cover this affair alone, she was in no rush to accept that offer. Not like she really had a choice...

"You know you could always just stay at headquarters." Dave had made that suggestion a few times now, granted a small part of it was just so he could use her moving in as an excuse to get rid of that douche calling himself 'The Juicer', but he genuinely wouldn't have minded. He probably would have been one of the only ones who didn't...

Smiling at his generosity, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, "You're sweet, but you know I can't. The family won't ever let me out of their sight, not knowing that I'm the mother of their heir. Besides, once you rescue Hit Girl, I think I'll be in even more danger there than anywhere else in the world. I'd rather take my chances with that creep and the rest of the family than her. No offense."

No, Mindy really was the greater of two evils, so he didn't blame her.

[The Next Morning...]

If they thought that last night had sucked, Emily was in for a rude awaking. Literally.

Sleeping soundly in Dave's arms, slumber no more peaceful, Emily almost didn't hear the phone ringing from its place on the nightstand, her head buried between the pillow and his arm, but by the third ring, it was impossible to miss as it seemed to get louder with each additional chime. Growling, she picked the phone up, "What?!"

It was Chris. Well, the lawyer that represented Chris and handled almost all of the calls his mother didn't concern herself with, but by extension, it was Chris. "Ms. Emily," It was annoying, but that was the most informal she could get him, "You should get down here. There was an incident."

"What kind of an incident, Murdock? How's Chris?!" Panicked, it was impossible to figure out when she had jumped out of bed and was wrestling with a jacket. Watching her struggle with the fabric as she tried to zip it up over her large belly, Dave started to dig around for his pants, finding them half under the bed, kicked over from last night. Slipping them on, he tried to remain as quiet as possible while she prepared to head out to the prison.

Perhaps the least favorite part of his job, Murdock Walters simply despised having to be the one to break this kind of thing to the family, especially when that family was an emotional teenage girl. "Mrs. Genovese has just been taken into custody for trying to murder her own son." There was more to the story than that, but given the history with his client's mother, that was probably the more pressing piece of information.

Standing in the middle of the front door, Emily's jaw fell slack, and she looked over her shoulder at Dave in shock. "How's he holding up? Tell him I'll be right there!" Hanging up the phone, she could only continue to gape at her secret lover. "Someone just tried to kill Chris." As the shock began to fade, it was promptly replaced by tearful guilt. "I just had a dream about killing him, and now...!" She choked back on a rather loud sob, "I don't know what I'd do if he died..."

Kay, I'm not technically sure how long Chris was in prison, so I went back and skimmed over a few of the issues (via Youtube), but I came back with 6 months, according to what Uncle Rocco said when talking about the possible wrongful imprisonment lawsuit. And yes, that is a reference to two lawyers in the Marvel universe. Oh, sweet, sweet fubar! How I've missed writing these fucked-up scenarios!

And how much I miss the sight of your reviews! Begging not so much.

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