May 2014 – the Present

I roll back and forth restlessly in my bed, playing over the events of the evening in my mind. I had done it. I had told Mindy how I felt. Well, I had shown her to be more precise, and for a moment at least she had seemed to return my feelings – she had certainly returned the kiss. That was good, right?

Of course immediately afterwards she had looked at me in something akin to wide-eyed horror and had cursed up a storm. Let's not forget that I had driven her away in tears - driven Hit-Girl to tears – not only immediately after, but twice in one week! So it looks like the 'not so good' side of the scales is bearing the brunt of the weight.

I try to push the memories of the fiasco on the rooftop from my mind and force myself to lay still. Of course the only thing I can see when I close my eyes is her face. Sometimes it's happy and smiling in the way that only she can smile; at others it's sad or angry and I know that those emotions are directed at me. I don't know which face is more painful for me to see.

Suddenly there's a tap at the window. I tense knowing that there is only one person it could be. Despite myself my heart leaps, but it just as suddenly constricts and goes cold at the thought of who, or what, is waiting for me. What's she doing here now? Am I even ready to see her? Does it matter? When did Mindy ever let a little thing like a closed window get between her and what she wanted?

I consider pretending I'm still asleep for about two seconds and then roll over and glance at the clock by the bed - three in the morning - before I look over towards the window. A familiar looking silhouette is crouched out there, but I can't see any details. I sigh and then roll out of bed, padding slowly to the window. After I lift it I can see that Mindy is sitting on the sill looking away from me, but she turns and looks up at me when the window opens. I can't read her face and that in itself makes me start to worry.

"Mindy, I…"

"Just let me talk, ok?"

My pulse quickens at her tone, but I simply nod and shut my mouth.

Mindy sighs then looks down. "You really took me by surprise tonight. I didn't...I never knew you felt that way about me."

"I do."

She nods, still not able to look me in the eyes.

"How long?" she asks.

I shrug, though the action is lost on her given that she's apparently found something very interesting in the general direction of her feet. "I'm not sure I can really say. I've always...I've always cared about you."

She nods again. "I care about you too."

Her words start to give me a glimmer of hope, so I barrel on. "But I guess it started after Katie dumped me. I mean...things started to change in the back of my mind...or maybe not change, but become clearer. To a part of me at least. I wasn't fully aware of them, but looking back I think that's when it started."

"When was it, you know, clearer to *all* of you? When was it something you were really thinking about?"

"Shit I don't know Mindy, I didn't just wake up one morning and decide 'hey I'm in love with my best friend now'."

She flinches slightly at my words.

"Was it before him?"

I don't need to ask what she means. "Yeah...it was before him."

She looks at me then, her eyes wide. "Then why didn't you *say* anything?!"

I can't read exactly what's in her eyes, but I know enough that it doesn't look good. "I...I don't know Mindy. Because I'd just gotten over the worst year of my life which I'd spent trying to convince everyone, myself included, that I *wasn't* into you that way. Because I figured it would just hurt our friendship, our partnership. Because...because I couldn't believe you'd ever feel that way about me."

She shakes her head. "That's just stupid."

"Maybe. I did try you know...finally, but by then it was too late. You'd met him and you were so happy. You were so, I dunno, in love I guess. I just couldn't do anything to fuck that up."

When she looks at me I can definitely read the anger there now. "So *now* was the right time to try and fuck it up?!"

I'm a little taken aback and my defenses start asserting themselves. "No! But *someone* just wouldn't let it go, would they? Wouldn't let *me* go. They just *had* to have an answer. So I gave it to them."

"You couldn't have just lied?!"

My heart goes cold at that and I am momentarily at a loss for words. Finally I manage to say, "I didn't even mean to say what I said - to do what I did - but it happened, ok? I was caught up in the moment and I didn't want to lie to you, I couldn't keep it bottled up inside anymore and I so I did it. OK?!"

"No, it's *not* ok! You've gone and fucked up everything!"

Neither of us speaks for a few minutes. The silence starts getting uncomfortable - I don't know the last time we ever even had an uncomfortable silence, but this one is horrible. The anticipation is almost more than I can stand.

Finally she almost whispers. "I think you'd better go."

I'm confused momentarily, in more ways than one. This is my house after all. "What?"

She looks up at me, her eyes not angry anymore, but sadder than I've ever seen them. "I think you were right. Your plan. You'd better go."

My stomach drops out from under me...along with my world. I clench my teeth and can't help closing my eyes. "I see."

"Dave I…" her voice catches and she stops, taking a breath and swallowing before she abortively continues, "Please don't think that I mean...I just...fuck..."

"No, I get it. You're right. I was right in the first place. I need to go and then this can all be…it can just be something we forget about. I was an idiot and I was selfish and I fucked everything up. I get it."

"Dave, please, I…"

"Just go now please," I say as I rub my head and turn away. I am suddenly getting a horrible shooting pain behind my eyes.

"Dave I can help…"

"Just. Go. Now!"

I surprise myself at the vehemence in my voice. I don't quite yell, but I'm not gentle either. I just don't need for her to see me like this. I don't need for her to see me cry. She is right though. It is all my fault. I've fucked up everything, but even so there is only so much I can take and having her see that is beyond the limit. I have the rest of my life to think about all the regrets I've piled up for myself in the last few weeks. What's one more?

I keep my back to the window for several endless minutes. When I finally have control of myself again I turn and see that she's gone. I hadn't heard a thing, but that's nothing new.

January 2012 – the Past

They had been out on regular patrols for the last six months and Dave was finally starting to feel like he was getting the hang of it. He'd even managed to save Mindy once when she'd been attacked from behind after choosing to take on three guys at once. She'd saved his life countless times already though, so he didn't bother rubbing it in…too much. He simply made a few cracks about her spider sense being faulty and cautioned her about not biting off more she could chew anymore. Luckily Mindy only drop kicked him once during training in retaliation.

School had been awkward for awhile. They were real friends now and didn't want to pretend otherwise, but spending too much time together would definitely get people asking too many questions: especially Katie who knew Dave's secret identity and who, Mindy's perennial snarky comments notwithstanding, wasn't dumb by any means. She would have quickly put two and two together so they decided to limit their lunches together to once a week and eventually came up with the excuse that Mindy was tutoring Dave in algebra for the other times they met during free periods.

On the surface it seemed ridiculous, but Dave's GPA and generally abysmal academic performance meant that having him pose as Mindy's tutor was even more ridiculous and it turned out that Mindy really was something of an academic wunderkind. So while she was busy working on material several years ahead of the rest of her class, and helping Dave with it to boot, they were able to divert any unwelcome questions. For the time being at least.

When they had come up with the plan in Mindy's second year at the school after she had been placed in the advanced math stream Dave had foreseeably balked. He hated being the 'sidekick' in their professional relationship as it was, now as a sophomore he had to have a grade eight student as his tutor? It was more than a little demeaning, especially when Mindy would hold it over him in her teasing way, but Dave soon caved. He found that he didn't want to have to ignore Mindy during the entire school week and this way they could at least get together and hang out in something approximating a normal friendship outside of their professional activities.

"Ok Dave, so write 2 log3 x + log3 5 as a single logarithmic expression."

"Huh?" he said as he seemed to shake himself awake and looked across the library table towards her.

"Shit, no wonder you're failing math doofus. Pay attention!"

"Sorry, just thinking about," suddenly Dave stopped himself, "…never mind."

Mindy rolled her eyes and said "Kay-tee?" in a sing-song voice.

"No! I mean, yes, but…" Dave sighed. "Never mind."

Mindy arched her brow and closed her book at Dave's obvious discomfort. "Oooh, *now* you have me interested. What's up?"

Dave rolled his own eyes now. "Give me a break Mindy, ok? You probably wouldn't understand anyway."

"Pfft! Right, because your problems are *so* incomprehensible."

"Look you're smarter than me…you're a better superhero than me…you've got it all going on, I get it okay?! I just don't need you trying to solve my personal problems too, alright?"

"Shit Dave, c'mon I'm not…I mean you don't…fuck." She looked nonplussed by what Dave had said.

Her speechlessness was an occasion Dave might have taken pleasure in under different circumstances. Instead he just looked away sheepishly. "Look I'm sorry that was…that was dickish. I just…I don't know, there are just some things I need to solve on my own, ok?"

Mindy looked down at her book then back at Dave. "You're not stupid you know."

"What?"

"You're not stupid," she said again in a tone that was starting to sound like she wasn't too sure of it at the moment.

"Right. That's why I have a thirteen year old teaching me algebra…something that was only supposed to be a cover and has, in fact, turned out to be all too real."

"Fuck algebra! As if we'll ever need any of this bullshit again in our lives!"

"That's not the point Mindy!"

"Then what *is* the point?"

Dave sighed. "The point is I thought being Kick-Ass would make me feel...better, and all I feel is like a different kind of loser."

Mindy tilted her head and screwed her eyes up. "First of all: bullshit! Secondly: what's that got to do with you and Katie?"

Dave shrugged. "I've just been thinking for awhile and I think you were right."

Mindy shook her head as she glared at him and held out her hands in the universal sign of 'duh, I'll need more info than that'.

"The only reason she's going out with me is because I'm a superhero, and I'm a second-rate superhero at that. Once she realizes that it'll all be over. This," here he motioned at the books littering the table between them, "just brings it all home is all."

"Dave you are so stupid! No wait," she said holding out her hand and forestalling his comment when she realized what had come out of her mouth. "What I mean is that you are *not* a second rate anything."

"C'mon you can wipe the floor with me ten times out of ten any day of the week and I'm bigger and older than you."

"What's that got to do with it? I've been in training, exclusively, for years. You've had, what, about a year to catch up? And you know what?"

"What?" asked Dave dubiously.

"You're pretty fucking awesome!"

Dave rolled his eyes. "Mindy please. The last thing I need is false praise to make me feel better, it just…"

"Dave will you fucking shut your trap and listen?!"

Dave's mouth closed automatically and he looked at his friend in surprise.

"When you started training I thought you just might be a lost cause. I mean you were able to help with D'Amico, but you had a jet pack and a gattling gun to back you up, not to mention the bazooka. To be honest your previous track record as a hero was pretty abysmal."

"Thanks," sighed Dave.

"Let me finish! When we started training I saw what you had that made a difference: heart. You stuck out the most gruelling regime I could come up with…and trust me I was *not* going easy on you. You sacrificed your personal life, school, everything. You committed to it 110%. On top of that you were ready to hit the streets and make a difference in *six months*! So what if you still need to follow my lead? And all of this shit?" she said motioning at the books and the school around them in general. "We're just biding our time. You've found your 'thing' Dave. Trust me…I would not lie to you about the mission, or your ability to pursue it: you were born to be a hero. Almost as much as me," she added with a wry grin.

Dave couldn't help but return her grin with one of his own. He shrugged. "I dunno Min, I still feel like a second stringer but…thanks. That means a lot coming from you."

Mindy seemed to become uncomfortable under Dave's beaming gaze, so she turned back to the book in front of her and opened it again. "But that still doesn't get you out of this: so give me a single logarithmic expression, bitch."

May 2014 – the Present

I go through the rest of the week on auto-pilot. I'm still a bit numb and I'm trying to process what has just happened. Despite that I actually start making some decisions, and trying to pretend that I don't – didn't – have a friend called Mindy. Neither of us tries to contact the other and I duck a few calls from Marty. Right now I really don't want to be around anyone.

I think maybe Miami is the way to go: farther away than Chicago and at least I'll get some damn sun out of it. Maybe I should consider California. I start going over city guides to Miami just to get a better feel for it and even go to the library to look up some crime stats. I might as well be as prepared as possible…it's not like I'll have much of a personal life anytime soon.

Despite my desire to avoid everyone I can't keep away from my dad indefinitely…we live in the same house after all and he's been badgering me about my moping for the last few days. Now that I've started to make some actual decisions I'm going to have to confront him about them. He is, of course, shocked when I tell him my plans.

"Miami?! What the hell are you going to do in Miami?! And have you talked to Mindy about this?"

"Really?! Whether or not I've talked to *Mindy* about it is one of your primary concerns? And for your information yes, I have talked to her –in general at least. What has she got to do with this anyway?!"

He gives me a look like I should stop talking nonsense and crosses his arms. "Why would you move so far away, why are you evading my questions about Mindy, and what the hell would you do in Miami anyway?! I haven't heard anything about a school there."

"It's not about school Dad, I just want a change of scene."

He looks incredulous. "A change of scene?! Are you kidding me? You can't just pick up and move like that because it sounds like a good idea at the time…or because you've had your heart broken."

"Look Dad I just…wait, what did you say?"

"I'm not an idiot son I know how you feel about Mindy. I take it whatever talk you had recently didn't go well?"

I close my eyes and clench my fists in frustration. "Believe it or not Dad, not everything I do is about Mindy."

"Right now it is," he shoots back.

"Fuck, can I just get some goddam support for once?!"

"When you stop spouting idiotic ideas then I'll be happy to comply! There is no good reason for you to pick up and move to Miami. Just what the hell do you think you're going to do there anyway? How are you going to support yourself?"

This is not a conversation I can have with him right now…maybe not ever. How can I convince him that this makes sense when he doesn't even know what I do in my spare time? I've saved up some money from my recent lone patrols…enough to get me there and get me started anyway, but he doesn't know that. By rights I probably have claim to at least a part of Mindy's stash given our partnership of the last few years, but the last thing I'm going to do is go and ask her for help. I need to cut our ties cleanly and being beholden to her for my set-up cash would just add a whole other layer of complicated to our already fucked up scenario.

I sigh deeply. "Just try to trust me ok? I have some money saved up…enough for a little while at least. Maybe this'll just be temporary, maybe I'll be back sooner than I think if things don't work out, but I need to do this Dad. I need to get some space and some time away even if it's only for a little while."

He looks at me for a long moment then sighs himself. "Look, if you need some time to get away then take it. Take a month, hell take two, but I do not want you committing to anything crazy for the long term so far away from home for all the wrong reasons."

"Fine, consider this a long vacation then, ok?"

"I'm going to hold you to that," he says pointing his finger at me in warning.

"It's ok Dad, I'm a big boy now you know."

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry for what you're going through son, but however it turns out it's not the end of the world even if it seems like it. You've got your whole life ahead of you. Don't throw it away because of one disappointment."

I shrug. "I won't. I'm not. I just need to clear my head and I *cannot* do that here."

"Does it have to be *Miami*?"

"Well, the sun'll be nice and at least it's not Australia, right?"

He shakes his head as he ruffles my hair. "Yeah, I guess you have a point there."

We look at each other for a minute and then I shrug again and start towards the kitchen to get a drink. "Don't worry Dad, I'll be fine."

I can sense his eyes following me, but there's a knock at the door and he heads over to get it while I enter the kitchen. I'm not really paying attention, but I can hear my name being mentioned as I open the fridge. I don't recognize the voice so at least it's not Mindy. Then I hear my dad call for me.

"Dave, a friend of yours is here to see you. He says his name is Chris…"

Suddenly there is the unmistakable sound of a gunshot and everything stops. Time seems to start going in slow motion as I register both the name and the gunshot in the same moment and drop the milk carton I'd been holding. As the milk splashes over the floor I'm already partway to the living room and get there in time to see my dad lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, his hands grasping at his stomach as his face contorts in agony. I start to run to him then look at the doorway and see a familiar figure there flanked by a couple of very large goons.

It's Chris D'Amico and somehow I take in every detail even as my brain starts to unravel. He's wearing a tailored Armani suit and holding a gun still pointed at my dad with a huge grin on his face. His men are similarly dressed and have their hands hovering near their jacket pockets. Time seems to rush back to its normal flow in an instant and I almost reach my dad when Chris shakes his head and makes a tsking sound.

"Now, now Kick-Ass…or should I say Dave? Hold it right there or your dad gets another hole and this one will definitely kill him immediately."

"What the fuck…" I manage as I freeze in place. My eyes dart from my dad to Chris and I can feel my panic rising, threatening to overtake me. "What are you…?"

"Now, now, none of that denial stuff, ok? I know who you are: you're the douchebag that killed my dad. Unless you want me to return the favour right now you'll sit down and shut the fuck up!"

He waves his gun towards the couch and I obediently move towards it and sit down, looking nervously at my dad.

"Ah, don't worry about him. It's just a stomach wound, small calibre. It could take *hours* for him to die. Plenty of time for us to have a little chat man to man." He hands the gun to one of his bodyguards and walks into the house stepping gingerly over my dad's prone form, making sure to avoid the blood. They follow him in and shut the door behind them.

Chris sits down heavily next to me and slaps his hands down on his knees. "Well, isn't this cozy," he says as he looks around the house. "A little too middle-America cliché for me, but hey not everyone can have millions to allow them to have good taste now can they? Of course you kind of trashed the old penthouse, but it really did need a bit of an overhaul anyway…a little too old school for me to tell you the truth."

I just glare at him. I don't think I'm capable of saying anything that won't get me and my dad shot immediately. He just looks at me with his eyebrows raised for a few minutes, then nods.

"O-kay then, I guess I'll start the talking, huh?"

Despite his words Chris doesn't say anything and just leans back on the couch for a minute. Finally he stretches his arms, cracks his knuckles, and places his hands back on his knees before speaking.

"Man, what should we talk about?" He taps one of his fingers on his chin and screws up his eyes as if he's thinking. I keep glancing just beyond his feet where my father is slowly bleeding out all over the floor and I'm just about ready to throttle the little cum bucket before he finally turns to me, feigned surprise plastered over his features.

"I know! How about the fact that you fucking *blew up* my dad with a bazooka and almost destroyed my family's livelihood. That sounds like a good place to start!"

He looks at me with feigned interest as if he's just said 'I heard you had a great trip to Florida, tell me all about it'. I'm still at a loss for words.

He scrunches up his eyes and grimaces. "Still nothing, huh? Well, I guess you weren't expecting me. I know it wasn't really polite to drop in without calling first and I didn't even bring a fruit basket or anything, but I figured our common interests and shared experiences would make it ok. I mean we were both superheroes at one time: the bond of that fraternity is pretty deep, right? And look," he says motioning towards my father's prone body, "we've both shot each other's dad! What are the odds? We're almost like blood brothers now!"

I clench my hands until the knuckles turn white and my jaw is starting to hurt from the effort to not scream at him. He notices and moves away from me slightly. "Now settle down there big guy," he looks me over, "I was meaning to ask…have you been working out? It looks good on you."

"What do you want Chris?" I finally manage to spit out.

He sighs. "No small talk, eh? Right down to business. Well, ok then: what do I want? Hmmm." He taps his chin again, looking up towards the ceiling. "I know! Your dad's body coating the streets in a fine mist just like mine and hearing your screams before I pull out your entrails. For a start."

I glare at him. What can I say to that? Then he narrows his eyes. "After that I'm going to find your little purple girlfriend and fuck her in every hole she has with kitchen knives until she's spilling out on the floor and then I'm going to flay the cunt alive!"

My hand shoots out at that, I can't help myself, and I grip his throat tightly in something like manic glee. He starts to choke, his arms and legs flailing, and I think to myself that this will be a good way to die. His eyes bulge out and he slaps uselessly at my hand. He glances hurriedly over at his guards and suddenly it's over. They each grab me by an arm and pull me off of him, wrenching my arms back until they're nearly pulled out of my sockets.

Chris is gripping his neck and sucking in huge gasps of air. He swallows and takes a minute to settle himself while his men push me down to my knees. He glares at them. "Shit you took your fucking time morons! Bodyguards my ass."

He takes another minute to compose himself then he looks at me. "Ok, I see where that came from. Sensitive subject and maybe I gave you too many details." Then his eyes harden and he glares at me. "No wait. I actually don't give a fuck! I'm going to find that little cunt and make you watch while I tear her apart piece by piece. This is what they call payback Kick-Ass, and let me tell you…it's a bitch!"