Lost in the Void, Found in the Stars | Damian Wayne Oneshots

Little Freak, Jezebel | Mindy Macready

Summary: Lately, Damian hasn't been able to keep his mind off of Mindy, who had came and left as abruptly. He wasn't worried, really, there was just something about her.

.・。.・゜✭・»»——⍟——««.・✫・゜・。.

Damian Wayne hadn’t thought about Hit-Girl in months. Maybe even a year. After they’d parted ways, they’d both moved on to their own corners of the world, their own missions. She’d left Gotham with the same abruptness she had arrived in, never giving him the courtesy of a goodbye. It had irritated him at the time, but what was new? That was Mindy—unpredictable, brash, always one step ahead of anyone trying to catch up.

They had never been close, not like partners or friends. They just worked well together when they had to. She respected his abilities, and he, despite everything, respected hers. For the most part.

He hadn’t thought about her in a while. Not until now.

He was back on another rooftop, the skyline stretching out below him in a blur of lights. The city had a way of making him feel like he was a part of something bigger, but it also felt like it might swallow him whole if he wasn’t careful. He had a mission tonight—something mundane, something necessary. Yet, as he stood there, something nagged at the back of his mind.

Mindy.

She had shown up in Gotham over three years ago, unannounced. She had been working solo at first, hacking through criminals with her usual reckless abandon, until their paths crossed. Damian had been furious at first, calling her out for stepping into his territory, accusing her of screwing up his carefully laid plans. She hadn’t cared.

“I’m not your sidekick,” she’d snapped at him once, eyes burning. “Don’t expect me to play nice.”

Damian almost admired her for that. Almost.

Over time, they’d fallen into a strange dynamic. She was rough around the edges, constantly pushing boundaries, and never shied away from a fight, even when she should have. It reminded him too much of himself, and maybe that’s why he kept her at arm’s length. He didn’t need someone like her in his life, not when she was a constant reminder of everything he was trying to control within himself.

But then there were those moments—the ones where she wasn’t trying so hard to be tough. Late nights after fights, sitting on a rooftop as they always does. She’d talk about her father, her twisted sense of justice, and sometimes, she’d even let slip a rare smile when he mentioned something that amused her. It was fleeting, but it was real. More real than most things in his life.

He remembered the night where they’d been sitting on the roof of the Wayne Tower, eating takeout after taking down another drug ring. Mindy had been unusually quiet, her face lit by the flickering lights of the city.

“You ever think about quitting?” she’d asked, staring off into the distance.

Damian had barely looked up from his food. “Quitting what?”

“This. All of it.” She waved a hand at the skyline. “Fighting, killing…legacy crap.”

He’d been caught off guard. Mindy didn’t ask questions like that, didn’t care about the big picture. But the look on her face had been genuine, almost vulnerable. He hadn’t answered right away, unsure of what to say.

“Do you?”

She’d shrugged, her usual façade slipping for just a second. “Sometimes. But then I remember I don’t have anything else.”

Her words hit him harder than he’d expected. He knew what it was like to feel like there was nothing else, like the battle was all that defined you. But before he could say anything, she’d stood up, stretching her arms over her head as if shaking off the moment.

“Well, whatever. Enough with the deep shit. Let’s go bust some heads.”

That was Mindy. One second, she was breaking through his defenses, and the next, she was back to being the same maniac who thrived on violence. Damian hated how easily she could switch between the two. It made her unpredictable—dangerous in a way he couldn’t shake.

That was the last time he ever saw her.

Now, standing alone in the alley, Damian found himself thinking about that conversation again. He wasn’t worried about where she was now, or what ridiculous mission she’d taken on. He wasn’t even concerned about who she went home to. That wasn’t his problem.

No, what stuck with him was her.

He didn’t know why. He’d dealt with people like Mindy his entire life: brash, bold, careless. She wasn’t special, not really. But for some reason, he couldn’t shake the way she’d smiled.

Damian’s gloved hand flexed by his side. Maybe it was the fact that she got close to something personal—something no one else had known. Or maybe it was just because she didn’t care, didn’t look at him the way others did, with expectations to be vulnerable as if he owed them that.

He didn’t know what she was doing right now, where she was, or who she’d be with tonight. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t his concern.

But still…

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

End