A/N: After watching Jessica Jones, I decided to try and write a story. Please do read the warnings because it might not be the type of story you like. Also, be aware that English is not my first language and I'm dyslexic so mistakes are bound to be made.
The first thing that came to my mind after the first episode was: What if Jessica hadn't told the taxi driver that she had to make a stop? And that's how this was born
Summary: The funny thing about hope was that it goes as quickly as it comes. Because the world could burn for all he cared but his Jessica wouldn't be getting away from him this time. [AU]
Main Pairing: Jessica/Kilgrave
Warnings: Pinning, Self-Hatred, PTSD – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Manipulation, Cigarettes, Smoking, Panic Attack, Suicide Thoughts, Mentions of Attempted Suicide, Brainwashing, Alternative Universe, Angst, Serial Killer Couple, Implied/reference Child Abuse, Fluff, Villain Team-up, OCs, Implied/reference Rape/non-con, Depression, Suicide attempt, Kidnapping, Sexual content, Alcoholism, Sleeping Around, Torture, Abusive/Unhealthy relationships, Foul language, Not actually unrequited love, Twisted Love, This shit is will get dark, Dark!Jessica, Kilgrave is Kilgrave.
Not Your Hero
Chapter 1: Hope
Escape
(v)
/e'skeip/
To flee and avoid; to be saved or exempt from; to shun; to obtain security from;
to escape danger
When Jessica entered the lingerie store, she knew there was something off; according to Hope's parents, the girl was frugal and the pictures she had seen hadn't shown a girl who was prone to fancy lingerie.
It seemed out of character and that confirmed her suspicion that Hope was overboard to make her boyfriend happy. She was either an idiot in love or she was being prone. Or maybe both.
Jessica looked at the manikins with their lacy garments; it was the sort of thing she would never wear, preferring her black leather jacket and torn jeans.
"Atrocious sense of fashion, but can be remedied"
Birch Street, Higgins Drive
Jessica hated cases like these. She got them once in a while and they hit a little too close home; she would choose the cheating husbands and wives over missing children with no second thoughts. In her mind, she was already making a room in her budget for the extra booze she would doubtlessly be drinking tonight.
She continued along her trail. The next stop was a place called Niku, on Elizabeth Street. Maybe she had finally found a prop-
No
No way
She remembered the familiar street, the decoration of the restaurant outside, the little flowers outside the front door…
It was the same place – the exact same place – Al Rosso
She felt like she was back on the street, the woman lying dead on the ground, the blood on her shaking hands. so cold His voice ringing loud and clear
"Jessica!"
She took a step forward but she remained there, still on the street, the woman continued being dead and he was still shouting
"Come back here!"
Although she had never been afraid of the water, it felt like someone was pushing her head underwater, and she was looking for supplies of air she would never find.
She couldn't allow herself to think something that couldn't be true; because once someone was dead he remained dead.
He's dead, he's not coming back The words in her head were spoken in Trish's calm voice; the same logical, sane voice that had the habit of breaking her out of her paranoia.
It wasn't the first time she'd had flashbacks of Kilgrave. Due to her goddamned PTSD, she had tendencies to overreact to every little thing that could remind her of him. Like the time she thought she had seen his purple suit, or when she had almost killed someone whose British accent had sounded a little too much like Kilgrave's.
The fact that Hope had gone to the particular street and to the exact restaurant was just bad luck – God knows she's had more than her share of that – and besides, it wasn't even Italian anymore.
Kilgrave preferred Italian over French food and hated Chinese
Jessica snapped out of whatever trace she had fallen into and mastered the courage to walk in.
A job was a job and she wouldn't allow her PTSD to hold her back
As she walked deeper she finally found the maitre and started question him, trying to ignore the twinge of dread that she had been feeling.
"They came here last Tuesday."
One month exactly since Hope disappeared -no, it wasn't, it couldn't be, she was overreacting. It was bad luck, coincidence
"Her companion wanted a particular table at the back, and there was a couple already sitting there and I... I lost my mind or something, and made the couple leave."
She wanted the earth to open up and swallow her, run away and just forget everything about Hope and her parents, because she knew she was opening Pandora's Box.
However, she kept him talking and she kept listening because she was a P.I and kept on asking and listening, and they continued they goddamned jobs even when-
"I don't know what had happened, it was like I suddenly needed nothing more than to kick the couple out of the restaurant and ju-just give the table to the girl and her companion."
The maitre was still talking about Hope's companion(whose identity she had figured out by now. It wasn't coincidence or bad luck; it was him, him back from the dead) how he had gotten them to give food and wine for free.
She still remembered exactly what type of wine he liked (Rossese Bianco) - she remembered everything; his favorite music, his favorite food, even his favorite goddamned tie.
She knew the table in the back, they had sat there because she wanted something private and quiet, somewhere where it would just be him and her (he had seemed to like that a lot). The black, expensive, elegant dress he had 'bought' for her only the night before, smooth against her skin. And sitting across the table him, Kilgrave.
Their anniversary
"He ordered classic Italian pasta-"
"Amatriciana" she finished the sentence in a half choked whisper, because didn't she know it so well, the Pasta Amatriciana, his favorite dish...
He was back
Reality hit her like icy water and she trembled
Real, alive and with all his glory, he was back
The horror, the longing, and the anxiety that had been chocking her ever so slowly with every passing day since the crash tightened with full force around her neck like an invisible hand that was trying to kill her. Her instincts screamed at her to run, run away from him, run while she still could, run before he found her again, before he trapped her like a fly caught in honey.
And she did, obeying her instincts, Jessica Jones ran as far and as fast as she could, because she could still do it, could still run, and if she run far enough, he would never find her.
Or she could hope so
It made sense why he had sent the Shlottmans to her. He was taunting her; he wanted her to know that he was alive, that he was coming for her. He probably wanted her to find him, so she had to run. She couldn't play his sick little game; she had met enough assholes that could match Kilgrave and she was too damaged to pretend and play the hero for Trish and Hope.
By using Hope's money she could run as far away as humanly possible, Hope wouldn't need the money anyway.
She could go to China. Kilgrave hated anything that had to do with the Chinese.
Hope's credit card didn't work - God was probably laughing at her misery, but she wasn't panicking yet. One plan down the drain, but that was alright; there were other ways to get money.
Alright, so she couldn't get paid early, okay that was the perfect moment to panic. She needed the money, she needed it like Malcom needed his drugs: fast and desperately because without is she wouldn't be able to escape, she couldn't escape.
She went to Trish who she hadn't seen since leaving without a word half a year ago. Trish would certainly demand an explanations, a reasons, excuses. Things that Jessica didn't want to give, but desperate time called for desperate measures.
"I need money." She winced at how callous she sounded but she didn't have time to be gentle, even though Trish deserved better.
"You saw him die. You saw his dead certificate. This is just your PTSD. Are you still having nightmares?"
Jessica felt like screaming. Didn't Trish know that she would never have come to her if she hadn't been absolutely certain, absolutely so scared and desperate?
Trish had no idea what it meant that he was back. She didn't know what it was like to belong to Kilgrave, which was why she still thought that Jessica could be a hero. But Jessica knew what it was like, which was why she was running, and praying he would never find her.
It always made her angry when Trish pretended to know what she had been through; she didn't. Trish had a beautiful apartment, a successful career and creepy fans who adored her. She didn't know the dark side of the hero fantasies she was having.
"You're still the same person who tried to do something."
She wasn't the same person who had left Kilgrave on the streets after the crash; the person she had become was different, darker. There was a reason why she preferred to stick with family drama in her cases and nothing more serious.
"Tried and failed. That's what started this."
Jessica could have never pictured herself as a hero but when Trish became obsessed with the idea, she had planted the seed inside her mind and grew accustomed to the idea of doing something unusual, of making a difference.
But heroes didn't stand out, they didn't make any difference. Jessica discovered it in the hard way. Her hands were painted red with blood and things would never go back to the way they were.
"I was never the hero you wanted me to be."
The old Jessica – not the one before Kilgrave – but the one who had been staying with Trish six months ago, would have probably asked the taxi driver to make a stop, she would have gone to the hotel where she knew where Hope was (because of course he had taken her to where they had stayed together), and she would have taken her to her office where her parents would be waiting.
And just like that, Hope Shlottman and her family would get their happy ending as they would drive away with their poor,broken daughter.
"Where is our daughter?"
Jessica wasn't going to help them, which was why her mind decided to show her over and over again the desperate faces of Hope's parents.
"Please just tell me where my baby is!"
Taking her phone out of her jean pocket, Jessica texted to Mrs. Shlottman because she had a feeling she would act quicker that her husband who would spend half his time trying to reach her.
Make a stop uptown. 59th and Fifth. There's a hotel, on the first floor at the last door at the end of the hall. Your daughter is there, you have to get her as far away as you can. Check out of your hotel, take Hope and leave immediately.
– Jessica
Immediately and no surprisingly, her phone started ringing and Jessica debated how much her guilt would torture her if she pressed ignore.
"Just do it!" she shouted angrily after she accepted the call. It was the only help they would get from her so they might as well act fast.
Not bothering any longer, Jessica threw her phone out of the window and ignored the shocked look of the taxi driver. He wasn't paid to ask questions
"How long till we arrive at the airport?"
She could no longer help Hope and her family, Jessica had done her part and although she would never make peace with herself, she was willing to let Hope Shlottman's fate haunt her fragile mind for the rest of her life. It was a price she was willing to pay if it meant escaping Kilgrave.
"Ten minutes."
She would force herself to remain unapologetically, discounting the existence of anyone.
She had a plane to catch
It wasn't when she arrived at the airport but when she was actually holding the ticket: that was when realization truly hit her.
She was going out of the city, somewhere far and safe.
The panic decreased and her mind was filled with hope.
Escape wasn't impossible after all.
New York was full of people, no matter which corner you turned someone would be there. If she stayed, the paranoia would get worse, she would be forced to play a game of cat and mouse in which she wanted no part of.
"Do you need me to bring you anything?" A young fly attendant asked her politely and left after she turned the offer down.
The plane started moving and she looked outside the window; the fall evening was darkening into night.
Two flight attendants were stating the safety announcements to a concerned passenger as the plane began moving faster before it lifted off the ground and started flying.
Jessica looked down at the entire airport and for the first time after a long year she genuinely smiled.
What she didn't know was that the funny thing about hope was that it goes as quickly as it comes.
A/N: If you don't like dark stuff then you should stop here where Jessica has successfully gotten away and heads towards her happily ever after.
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