May 2014 – the Present

I leave Dave's house closing the door behind me. I don't have time to take care of Mr. Lizewski's body, as much as it guts me to leave him lying there. I'm sorry Mr. L., but I need to find your son and I can't let anything stop me. The last thing I need is the police looking into this and getting in my way.

I decide not to take the time to go to the safe house. It's too far out of my way and I have an extra suit and some equipment stashed at home. Speed is of the fucking essence and I already know where I need to start looking anyway.

I'm shocked when I jog up the walkway to my house and see Trevor standing at the front door.

"Hey Mindy," he says with a smile which immediately leaves his face when he sees the look on mine. "What's wrong?"

I grab his arm as I unlock the door and lead him inside. "Not here. Come on."

I glance around just to confirm that Marcus isn't at home. Satisfied I lead Trevor upstairs to my room. When we get inside I close the door and turn to him grasping him in a strong hug. He's taken aback at first but then settles into it, hugging me back.

"C'mon sweet thing, what's wrong?"

I actually break down and start to sob. "Oh fuck Trevor! God, something horrible's happened!"

He strokes my back and I actually start to feel a little better. "Shh, shh, what's the matter?"

I take a gulping breath of air and choke back my tears. There's no time for this little girl shit, I have a fucking job to do. I reluctantly extricate myself from his embrace and wipe my eyes as I look at him. "It's Mr. Lizewski. He's dead. I…I found him at his house and Dave…" I take another gulping sigh, "Dave's not there."

Trevor's face goes blank. "What?"

"I know," I say, shaking my head. "It's fucking insane. I…I went there to talk to Dave." I look at Trevor, worried how he might react, but he still seems to be in shock at what I've told him so I rush past it. "The door was open. I walked in and saw…fuck, I saw Mr. Lizewski lying on the floor dead." I put my hand to my eyes and rub them. I will not cry again. I won't.

"And Dave…he wasn't there?" says Trevor finally.

I shake my head. "No, but…" I heave yet another sigh, "but they left me a message."

"They?" says Trevor anxiously. "A…a message? What do you mean?"

My voice goes quiet, almost a whisper. "In blood. Mr. L.'s blood...at least I think it was his. They took him, they took Dave, and they told me to come find him."

"Told you?" asks Trevor in confusion. "What do you mean they told *you*?"

"I mean that it was a message meant for me – for Hit-Girl. Somehow someone found out about Dave's secret identity and they went after him."

I hadn't noticed before, but Trevor's face is getting whiter and whiter as I tell him the story.

"Well you…you can't go after them! Who-whoever 'they' are. It's just too dangerous!"

"Fuck that! I know exactly who they are and I am getting my Dave back!"

"*Your* Dave?!"

"Fuck Trevor there's no time for this, you know what I mean. He's my partner…my goddam best friend and if you think Hit-Girl is going to let him get hurt, let him…" I choke on the word, "…die, then you don't know me very well."

As he looks back at me I can't identify what's in his eyes: anger; hurt. But there's something else lurking in the background. A thought jumps unbidden into my head and twists my gut like a knife. I don't want to say it, don't want to open my mouth, but I can't stop myself.

"The only one who would have – who could have – done this is Chris D'Amico. This is payback plain and simple and if anyone wants us this badly it's him. The only thing I can't figure out is how he knew Dave was Kick-Ass. We've been careful…very careful since the beginning. Why would he come back *now* of all times? How could he figure it out? And why didn't he find *me*?"

Trevor's actually got a great poker face, but I see the thing that passes behind his eyes and something inside me dies a violent death. Tears are starting again and I shake my head as I step away from him.

"No. No, no, no, no, no…NO!"

He doesn't even try to deny it. Maybe he knows better than to try and fuck with me…again.

"Mindy, I didn't know! I mean I knew who Chris D'Amico was, but he seemed…I mean you always said…he came across like such a whimpy loser! I thought….fuck, I just thought he'd scare Dave a bit…let him know he knew…give him a real reason to leave town for good. I didn't think…didn't mean…"

Trevor steps back when he sees my face, his eyes widen in shock. I cover the distance between us in a heartbeat and grab him by the shirt, slamming him against the wall and pinning him there. Almost without thinking I pull my balisong from my pocket, twirl it and hold the blade to his throat.

"You fucking Judas!" I shout, tears of anger and frustration streaming down my face. "He was my partner, he was my…my…my…FUCK! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just kill you now!" My knife blade is pressed so closely to his throat that a tiny trickle of blood starts to seep out from beneath it.

There's real terror in his eyes now and part of me regrets that deeply. The rest of me though? It takes it as the tiniest bit of payback for the fucking horror show this fucker has caused in my life. How could I have been so stupid, so blind? How could I have let this happen all for the sake of a fucking boy?

"Please!" he squeaks, "I did it for you! For us! I love you Mindy. I just wanted to have a clean break, a chance for us to really be together without Dave hanging over us!"

I continue to stare at him and my hand brings the knife closer to his eye. I am so tempted to pop it out like a ripe fruit. After all we've done with each other, all we've meant to each other over the past year and now all I want to do is kill him like an animal.

I look away for a minute and close my eyes. I let myself think about my time with Trevor in the hopes that it will bring out my better feelings, but all it does is make me feel sick. "I can't believe I let you touch me," I whisper. I turn back to look him in the eyes. "You're either a selfish asshole with massive self-esteem issues or an evil mother fucker. Either way I ought to just gut you and put an end to your misery!"

He looks at me desperately. "Mindy! Please…listen to me: it doesn't have to be like this. I *love* you, I really do! We have the chance at a normal life. We can leave town, leave all this crap behind. My family has more than enough money to take care of us. We can live anywhere we want, be anything we want. I love you as much as him…more. He can't give you what I can! He'll never be normal!"

"Do you even know me?! Listen to yourself! A normal life? Money to run away? Fuck, I have millions stashed away Trevor. I don't need your fucking blood money! I need someone who understands me – who loves *me*. I need someone who protects the innocent, not betrays them to death for his own selfish ends."

"Oh and Dave didn't want you for himself? He wasn't trying to get you back the minute he saw you with me…saw that you could be happy outside of the freak show he'd made your life into?"

"Dave's never done anything but support me! He didn't create my life, but he always made it better. If anything he's tried to help me be 'normal', to give me a balance to keep me from going over the edge."

He glances at the room around him and then at the knife in my hand and a nervous giggle escapes his lips. "Heh, hehehehe. I guess he didn't do such a good job, huh?"

The giggles stop as quickly as they began and he wipes his arm across his face where tears have started. Whether they're tears of fear or sadness I don't know. I don't care. His face is serious as he tries to justify himself again. Of course he only makes things worse.

"I didn't tell Chris about *you*Mindy. I would *never* do that!"

"Fuck Trevor, do you think that even matters to me now?! Mr. Lizewski is dead. *Dead* Trevor! An innocent man is lying on the floor of his living room in his own blood because of what you did! And who knows what the fuck is happening to Dave…who knows if he's even *alive*?!"

Anger replaces some of the fear in his eyes. "Dave, Dave, Dave! It always comes back to fucking Dave doesn't it? Why can't you let that loser go?"

I slam him up against the wall again. "Loser? Loser! Did you just call him a loser?! That man has more courage and heart than a…a little boy like you could even comprehend! He was my only friend once and he's done…" I stop for a second, remembering all the times I've had with him, all the things he's done with me - for me. "…he's done more for me than anyone else. Even my daddy."

"Is that why you kissed him…while you were dating me?! Because he's 'done so much for you'?"

I look at Trevor in disbelief. "Are you fucking shitting me? A kiss? A fucking kiss?! You gave away the biggest secret of a man's life…you got his father killed…you got him captured by a goddam psychopath…because of a kiss?!"

"Psychopath? Hah! Dave Lizewski is a fucking psychopath! He's a goddam pedophile freak who took a vulnerable girl from a bad situation and fed her psychosis because he wanted to fuck her! You think he *cared* about you? He just wanted to make you a dependant freak he could use as a part-time fuck-buddy after he got dumped by the captain of the cheerleaders! He's nothing but a pathetic loser and a creepy predator!"

I am so overcome with my rage as I picture the smug look on his face as he gave up my Dave's secret to our worst enemy that my knife flashes out before I'm even fully aware of what I'm doing. His eye pops out with a wet sound and flies onto the floor, immediately followed by his high pitched scream.

I'm almost shocked as I seem him bending over in agony, his hands clutching at his eye socket, but as I search my feelings I realize I don't regret the action at all. I step forward and grab him by the shirt, forcing him upright and slamming him against the wall. "You don't get to talk about him like that!"

"You know what?" I say to him my voice slow and even, just above a whisper, but it's enough to cut through his whimpers. "You're right. It's all true: I love him, I really do, and I will do anything to protect him. But I would never have done anything to hurt you Trevor. When I thought you actually loved me; when I thought you were a human being; when I thought you were something other than a delusional manipulator. I was willing to try and move beyond what I felt for Dave- with you. Fuck…I didn't even kiss him, *he* kissed *me*…and I told you about it because I didn't want to live with lies and regrets. You know what though? Trying to be truthful to you? That was a lie. Trying to move on and live without Dave? That is a regret. If all you can do is repay my honesty with anger and betrayal then you can go fuck yourself!"

I step away, looking at him sadly as he slides down the wall.

"So what now?" he asks, his voice shaky and wracked with sobs as one hand still clutches at his eye. "You going to kill me Hit-Girl?"

I watch him from beneath hooded eyes for a few minutes; might as well let him sweat a bit.

"I'd really like to, it's no more than you deserve. I've done worse to people who've done less. You've hurt me in a way that even Chris D'Amico couldn't. You've hurt me in a way I haven't been hurt since my daddy died."

He tries to crawl backwards, but the wall blocks him.

"But I won't. I don't even know why, but I'm going to let you live. Maybe I'm weak or sentimental…maybe I just hope that something between us was real." My eyes harden. "Maybe I just don't want my shoes covered in your shit." He flinches at that.

I step towards him, crowding him against the wall even more. "Maybe I just want you to suffer. You can believe this though: if I *ever* see you again. If I get a breath on the wind that someone has heard about me or Dave because of you then I will hunt you down and you *will* die…very slowly and very painfully. I promise you that." I point with my balisong to where his eyeball lies on my bedroom floor. "I think you can take me at my word, don't you?"

I step back. "Do we understand each other?"

He doesn't answer me, but the wet mark starting to creep across the front of his pants lets me know the message was received.

"You'll make a fucking great pair!" he screams. "Psychos in love, how sweet!" He turns around then and scrambles for the bedroom door. He pulls himself up and rips it open, stumbling away as I close my eyes. I pray that it's the last time I ever see Trevor Ames again.

I go as quickly as I can, but I'm hampered by the fact that I'm carrying my spare uniform and some equipment in a pack on my back and I don't have any transport faster than my own damn feet. The beautiful purple motorcycle I recently invested in on a whim is at the safe house and Marcus took the car with him to work. I can only hope that I'm making the right guess based on what I know and can get to Dave in time.

Ironically I think I can rely upon Chris' hate-on for us to keep Dave safe – or at least alive. He wouldn't have left such an obvious clue for me unless he wanted me to find him and I can only assume that means he wants me there for whatever end game he has in mind.

I still have to fight down the panic that keeps threatening to overwhelm me though. This is nothing like any other mission I've been on save one…and that one ended in tragedy even though I thought I was in time. My mind keeps jumping between the look on my daddy's face that night he died in my arms and the look on Dave's face when I last saw him, when I told him to leave and twisted the knife in his gut.

Shit, am I crying again? Fuck that noise Hit-Girl! Get some fucking control of yourself! The most important person left in your life is relying on you not to lose your shit, so keep it fucking together. The last thing Dave needs is for you to get captured on the doorstep of the fucking villain. You can cry like a pansy all you want after it's done…right now you need to focus.

I suddenly realize that I do have an option and I curse myself for the two blocks of extra running I'll have to do for not thinking of it sooner. I immediately turn around and run for Dave's house. His dad's car was just sitting in the driveway and I can hotwire that piece of shit as easy as pie.

Coming back to the house I stop dead for a minute. Knowing what's behind the door gives me pause, not because I'm afraid of it, but because it leaves a gaping hole in my heart when I think about what Dave has lost…what I could lose.

I shake it off and walk to the car. I easily pop the lock on the driver side door before sliding into the seat. I look around, hoping that no one is watching me. It could lead to some uncomfortable questions once the cops find the body, but at this point I don't care too fucking much about consequences. I've got to get to Dave and I have to do it quickly. This is my only option. I'll worry about the fallout later. That's my best case scenario.

I pop the cover off the steering wheel base and find the wires I need pretty quickly. A little flick of the wrists and…sweet. I wouldn't exactly call it a purr, but any response from the car is music to my ears. Now I know I can make it in time.

May 2014 – The Present

I come to groggily. There is additional pain in my side and my wrists are starting to throb again. I try to push myself up with my legs to ease the pain, but my knee flares up into excruciating agony and I slump back down, causing my wrists to flare up in worse pain. I try to look around, but everything is shadowed by a red haze. I wonder if it's my emotional state until I realize that it's sticky…apparently there's blood dripping into my eyes. I guess I have a new wound I forgot about. Fuck, I am not in good shape.

I keep having flashbacks to Chris' slideshow and they are merging with my actual memories of what happened in my house. My dad is dead. I killed him.

There is a sharp spark of anger deep inside me. A rage that I know will be with me forever and never die and I grasp onto it, holding to it for strength, the only anchor I can find in the midst of the chaos my life has become. I think I finally know how Mindy must have felt when her father was killed. I had thought I understood her before, but I realize now that I've only ever glimpsed a fraction of the pain she must have felt. My heart bleeds for her and I recall with remorse all of my trite attempts at making the situation seem better than it was, at trying to convince her that there was some rational response to the situation she was in.

Now I know that the only response is unthinking anger and vengeance. Unfortunately I also know that I am going to die. I don't know how much longer I can hang on, but as long as Mindy stays out of Chris' grasp I can die in relative peace. My only regret is being unable to take a piece of him with me…and knowing that I've left things in a shambles with her.

The door opens and I sneer at Chris' smiling face.

"Shit Kick-Ass I gotta say – and I mean this as a friend - you look really horrible."

I don't bother dignifying his attempt at banter with a response. I've had enough of that shit and I just want it to end.

"Not too much to say, huh? Well that might change."

I'm finding it hard to concentrate on what's going on. My head is killing me, in addition to all my other aches and pains, and things are sliding in and out of focus. I'm brought sharply to attention when he reaches outside the door and drags in a writhing figure.

"Look who I found skulking around and trying to break in."

The purple hair is what brings things into focus, partially at least, and I nearly scream as I see the petite form of Hit-Girl dragged into the room. She has a gag over her mouth and her mask is slightly askew. She's struggling against Chris, but can't get any purchase. He throws her onto the floor and I see that her hands are tied behind her back. Her face crunches into the floor and I can make out a muffled sob as she writhes on the ground in front of me.

"Let her go you fucking shit bag! Just let her go! Do what you want to me…just let her go!"

"Oh, I've already done what I want to you," Chris says with a maniacal grin, "well – except for this of course!"

I'm starting to babble and my last shouts are drowned out by the tears that are starting to choke up my throat. "Please Chris! I'll do anything, *ANYTHING*, just let her go!" I try to wrench myself free of the wall, but all it results in is a symphony of pain throughout my limbs. "You can't…can't hurt her!"

Chris gives me a wicked grin as he unbuckles his pants and reaches for Hit-Girl's skirt.

"Oh no? Just watch me."

I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a howl that makes even Chris stop for a second. After the scream is gone, my throat raw, Chris murmurs to me. "Open your eyes Kick-Ass…do it! I promise you I will make this worse for her if you don't."

I open my eyes and try to swallow the bile that's rising in my throat. I pray to the rage to engulf me, to take me away from this horror show. My voice is almost quiet and calm…dangerously so even through the tears. "I swear Chris, I swear I will come back from the dead if I have to. I will wreak vengeance on you. Hurt that girl and I won't rest until I twist you inside out and make everything you've done to me, and her, look like amateur hour."

"Wow, that's dark Kick-Ass," he mutters, "are you going all Dark Knight on me now? Well, let's give you a reason to, huh?"

I scream again.