(A/N: I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Why the fuck is he writing this when he SHOULD be working on 'Deadliest Warrior?'" Why? Because I'm a fucking slave to my artistic whims. I write when the muse comes to me, and my muse has been a fucking Ice Queen lately. Anyway, in case you couldn't tell, this is an AU set in Makokam's "Precocious Crush" universe. I know it's a little late for Zombie Jesus Day, but it shouldn't matter much. Please Read & Review.)
Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of the "Kick-Ass" franchise. The character of Dillon Rothstein belongs to Makokam.
The service ended as it always did: quietly, and, at least for Mindy Rothstein née MacCready, somewhat hollowly. She didn't pretend to be a particularly good Catholic, and rarely went to normal services, but in the past 20 years she had never once failed to attend on Easter Sunday.
For a while, she sat in her car, letting the priest's sermon soak in. At one point in her life, she would have dismissed all of it as coffeehouse bullshit. But it had meant something to Dave. It had meant a great deal to him, in fact, so Mindy MADE it mean something to her.
Finally, she was ready to go visit him. Putting her car in gear, she drove the 4 miles to the suburban cemetery that was his final resting place. She parked, took the single red rose that lay on the seat beside her, and walked over to his grave.
"Hi, Dave," she said quietly, "I know Caz was here earlier, but I just . . . I didn't have the strength to face him on the anniversary of your death. I wanted us to talk, one-on-one."
She knelt down and took some pictures out of her wallet.
"Damon is getting stronger and faster every day. He's only nine, but he's getting close to his karate black belt and is winning speed board-breaking competitions left and right. Sophie is seven and, unfortunately, is a girlie-girl. I don't think she'll be following in my footsteps any time soon."
She stopped to wipe away a tear.
"Dillon is doing fine. Having a P.I. for a husband is pretty helpful for a superhero, though I think he wishes he was chasing more supervillains and fewer cheating spouses."
The tears were now flowing.
"It's not fair, Dave. It's not fair that you died fighting Chris D'Amico. It's not fair that that worthless piece of shit is still alive and sitting in a cozy cell on Riker's! It's not fucking fair that you died never knowing how much I loved you!"
It was several moments before she could speak again.
"Don't get me wrong. I love Dillon. I really do. He's a wonderful husband and father. But I just . . . sometimes, I just can't help but feel that it should've been you; that it should have been YOU standing next to me in the wedding photo, OUR children playing the yard, YOU AND ME fighting together to this very day! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE ON ME, YOU FUCKING BASTARD? WHY?"
She collapsed to the ground, sobbing. Finally, she managed to straighten herself and wiped her eyes with a tissue.
"But if you had lived, and we had gotten married, I never would have had Damon and Sophie. I love my children more than anything in the world, Dave, and I . . . I can't wish that things were different. Not really."
She rose to leave.
"Wherever you are, I hope you know that deep down, I will always love you. It was your love in my heart that helped me to love again, and I know that you'd want me to be happy."
Mindy softly hummed Sophie's favorite lullaby, Beethoven's "Ode to Joy," and stroked her daughter's hair as she drifted off into a deep sleep. She got up and peeked into Damon's room to be sure he was fast asleep, then went downstairs to join Dillon.
"Hey baby," she said, sitting on his lap and kissing him.
"How was your day?" he asked.
"The usual," she said, "I shot a rapist in the tunk, broke a purse-snatcher's arm, ran about a dozen red lights, the usual."
Dillon laughed and said, "I have an idea. How about, sometime soon, we ask Marcus to look after the kids for a week or two and go on that second honeymoon we've been talking about?"
"Are you serious?" asked Mindy.
"Damn right," said Dillon, "my last client paid through the nose, so we can afford to spend at least a week in Cabo."
"If you're looking to get laid tonight, you're saying all the right stuff," said Mindy, her voice dropping to a sexy contralto.
"And while we're there," said Dillon with a sly grin, "I'm sure Hit-Girl could entertain herself by, oh I don't know, killing a few Mexican Mafia goons?"
That was it. Mindy grabbed Dillon by his shirt and practically dragged him into their bedroom.
"Wait a minute," said Dillon as Mindy threw him onto the bed, "my lasagna's in the oven and it's almost done."
Mindy responded by kissing him roughly. "We'll be done in time."
(A/N: Unlike "Afterglow," this is DEFINITELY going to be just a oneshot. I'm not really sure how I feel about this one, so don't be afraid to really critique it. Please Review.)