Title: Stand By Me
Author: The Fallen Sky
Rating: T
Pairing: Kick-Ass(Dave)/Hit Girl(Mindy)
Summary: She may be Hit Girl, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need someone to stand by her.
Warning: Some foul language, but what else would you expect from a fic that includes Hit Girl
A/N: This is my first ever Kick-Ass fic. I've never read any of the comics, but I've seen both movies, and I absolutely loved them. I was inspired to write this after watching Kick-Ass 2, because I just loved the Dave/Mindy relationship. In fact, it was the best part of the movie for me. I also enjoyed seeing the softer side of Mindy/Hit Girl. Seeing her emotional vulnerability made me fall in love with her and the Dave/Mindy ship.

Anyway, this story is a one-shot and takes place after/during Kick-Ass 2 and is told from Mindy's POV. The section in italics is a flashback.

Feedback is welcome and probably necessary since I'm venturing into uncharted territory and am not quite sure I did the characters or the ship justice. Enjoy!

She wakes with a start, disoriented, her senses on alert.

It's dark, and she doesn't know where she is, but she knows she's not in her bed and not in her room.

As the fog of sleep lifts and her eyes adjust to the dark, she determines that she's in a motel room, and that's when it all comes flooding back to her.

She's on the run, wanted for murder, currently in a shitty motel in some podunk town in Pennsylvania.

For a moment, the enormity of the situation hits her, and she realizes that her life as Mindy Macready, short and pathetic as it may have been, is over. She won't be going to high school anymore, won't be hanging out with people who she thought wanted to be her friends but were really just fucking with her, won't be going on dates with douchebags who seem like good guys only to stab her in the back, leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere, make her cry and walk home alone in the dark. As fucked up as it sounds, she's actually gonna miss that shit. Well, maybe not that exact stuff, but the normality of it, the experience of being just a regular teenage girl.

What really gets her, though, is that she won't get to see Marcus anymore. He may have been strict and unfair at times, but he really did...does care about her, and it makes her sick to her stomach that she let him down, that she couldn't be the girl he wanted her to be, that she couldn't be normal.

Suddenly, she can't breathe, and her chest hurts, and tears are stinging her eyes.

She wants to cry like a little baby for what she's lost, which is weird, because she never really wanted it in the first place. It's strange how you only really appreciate something, even something you thought was terrible, when it's gone.

She's on the verge of bawling when she feels the bed shift beside her, and her breakdown is forgotten, her senses again on alert.

Turning her head in the direction of the movement, she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees the mop of unruly hair on the pillow beside her.


"I'm leaving New York."

The surprise and shock was evident on his face and in his voice as he asked, "Why?"

She answered matter-of-factly, "I killed six people with a cop's gun. That's not something you just walk away from."

Judging from his frown and slumped shoulders, he recognized the truth of her words and the enormous implications they carried.

She didn't know what to say then, but she had a sinking feeling in her gut as she realized that she probably wouldn't see him again for a long time, if ever.

The silence hung in the air, creating an uncomfortable distance between them, neither of them knowing what to do or say.

She was on the verge of cracking some lame joke to break the tension, but he beat her to it, breaking the silence, his voice soft but filled with hope, a hope he didn't seem to have mere moments before.

"So, where are we going?"

She almost didn't catch it and was about to answer when it finally registered just what he'd said.


Where are we going.

She didn't know why, but this incredible sense of relief washed over her and a warm, tingly feeling filled her chest, and she felt like smiling and laughing and crying all at once but ended up staring at him with a blank expression.

He wanted to go with her.

The rational part of her was screaming that it was a bad idea. The cops weren't after him. He still had a chance at a normal life, and she wanted that for him, wanted it in the worst way.

The emotional part of her, the part of her that didn't want to be alone, was jumping for joy, deliriously happy that he was willing to give up everything, school, a future, a normal life, all for her.

She knew she should've told him that he couldn't go with her, that she made her mess and she had to live with the consequences, that she was never good at normal anyway and that she cared too much about him to let him throw his life away.

But she didn't.

Instead, she simply looked at him, really looked at him, and without thinking about it, leaned across the motorcycle, stood on her toes and gently pressed her lips to his.

It only lasted a moment, and he didn't really kiss her back, but he also didn't pull away, so her hopes were soaring when she stood up straight and looked at him with the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

His eyes were filled with a mix of confusion and surprise, and his voice was tinted with uncertainty and muted mirth as he asked, "What was that?"

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she tried to play it as nonchalantly as possible.

"My first kiss." She replied, matter-of-factly. "So you better be nice, or I'll rip your ass out through your mouth."

Okay, so maybe she didn't need to threaten him, but she's never been good with the emotional stuff.

He didn't say anything after that, which was fine with her.

Without another word, she climbed onto the motorcycle and started the engine.

After a moment, she turned toward him and asked in an expectant voice, "You coming or what?"

It took him a moment to process what she said. When it finally hit him that she was asking him to come along, his somber expression turned to one of joy, and he smiled the biggest smile she'd ever seen before climbing onto the back of the bike and wrapping his arms around her.

That feeling of warmth she felt earlier grew and spread to every part of her body, and she couldn't help the beaming smile that nearly split her face as she revved the engine and took off.

She doesn't know why exactly, but just looking at him, his face relaxed, his mouth slightly open, his chest slowly rising and falling, makes her feel so much better. The fear and sadness and desperation she felt threatening to consume her moments before are quickly fading and are being replaced with a feeling of hope, hope that all is not lost, hope that, despite the shit-storm that is now her life, she'll be just fine.

If she's being honest with herself, she needs him. She may be one of the toughest motherfucking bitches on the planet, fearless in the face of death, but she's not an emotionless machine. Much as she doesn't like it, she's still just a teenage girl, and she's afraid of being alone, afraid that no one will love her.

Fortunately, she doesn't have to worry about either of those things, as long as she's got Dave.

He's already proven that he'll follow her anywhere and everywhere. Fuck, he'd probably follow her straight into hell.

And he's also proven that he's more than willing to sacrifice everything for her.

She may not be an expert on love, but she's pretty damn sure you don't do the things he has for her without love driving you.

Feeling much better, her freakout all but forgotten, she inches across the bed, pressing her body into his side, laying her head upon his chest, and draping her arm across his stomach.

As if by instinct and reflex, one of his arms wraps around her, pulling her close, while his other hand searches out hers lying on his stomach.

The feel of his hand on hers, the contrast of warm and rough to cool and soft, sends a delicious tingling sensation rippling up her arm and spreads a soul-melting warmth throughout her body.

She's not sure what her reaction to Dave's touch means, but she could definitely get used to feeling like this.

Sighing softly in contentment, she closes her eyes and listens to the sound of his heartbeat and steady breathing, letting it calm and soothe her.

Her life may be completely fucked up, but this moment is absolute perfection, and she hopes it never ends.

As she slowly drifts off to sleep, she says a silent prayer of thanks, to whoever's listening, that she's not alone, that she's got someone who loves her, someone who has her back, that she's got her very own Robin.

A small smile graces her lips as sleep finally claims her.

Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of music can be heard, quietly serenading the slumbering teens.

When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No, I won't be afraid
Oh, I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

**Lyrics are to the song "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King