Jessica Jones is a person of simple wants and needs. She needs people to leave her alone. She wants people to stop being dumbasses and ignoring that need.
Bucky fucking Barnes is in her apartment. He's sitting on the couch, watching cartoons on her piece of shit television, eating microwave popcorn. She's still not sure where he found it, even though he claims it was in her kitchen. Malcolm probably left it in there at some point.
It's been about four days since Bucky brought her to his apartment to sleep off whatever drug that creep at the bar put in her drink. Somehow, since then, Bucky has been showing up at her place more and more, ever since she showed him where she lived so she didn't have to go back to his apartment whenever she got shitfaced.
She's pretty sure she's told him at least once to fuck off, but he must know that she doesn't mean it too seriously or he would leave. Jessica also knows that he would just sit in the dark brooding if he was at his own apartment, especially if Steve is still away.
She wonders about this "Steve" character a lot. She's aware that he's Captain America, the original super soldier, and she's done more than enough research to get an idea of him. He reminds her of Danny, in a way.
One thing she knows of Steve is that Bucky trusts him more than anyone else ever. Sometimes Jessica wonders if he's in love or they've just been that close for that long. She's pretty sure he's in love, the way he talks about Steve. He doesn't talk about him often, but when he does, that's when you hear it.
Apparently Steve also doesn't know when to give up. Bucky is a disaster, maybe even worse than Clint. It's like there are three different versions of Bucky, and they're all held together with Elmer's glue and Scotch tape.
He doesn't tell her anything. Jessica understands that, to an extent. She doesn't like to tell people her life story either. But finding anything on Bucky is so damn hard. Steve Rogers, Captain America, is all over the Internet. So much of his story is everywhere. Bucky is the opposite. What she can find is mostly his military service and that he went missing. There's practically nothing on what Hydra did to him, or what he did as the Winter Soldier.
There's one thing about the Winter Soldier on the Internet, and that's the one thing Bucky is sure that he didn't do. The bombing of Wakanda was someone else, he says. Unfortunately, no one else seems to believe that but the select few that are close to him.
Jessica wouldn't say that they are close, but she believes him. She also understands the shit about Hydra's mind control, and even the things he won't talk about. What they did to him under Hydra's control, what he did to other people. A lot of times, she realizes that what he did to other people was much better than what they did to him.
Sometimes, it reminds her too much of Kilgrave, and she has to remember that her whiskey is on top of the fridge before she starts crying or having some other sort of PTSD bullshit reaction. Those sorts of events don't happen so much anymore, not since she took Kilgrave down.
She's taken out of her thoughts by an annoying laugh. She turns back to the main room, finding Bucky sitting on her couch, watching Spongebob.
"Look, it's you." Bucky says when Squidward comes onto the screen. Jessica just shakes her head and walks back to the kitchen.
"Asshole." She mutters, downing the rest of an almost-empty whiskey bottle.
It's a couple hours later when Clint shows up, filthy and probably bleeding in three different spots.
"Hey, Jessica." He says sheepishly, and groans when she pulls him inside and drops him onto the couch next to a sleeping Bucky. He fell asleep somewhere around the 85-minute mark, and she just let him sleep while she got some work done for a case.
He wakes when Clint's weight is placed on the couch next to him, alert and ready to attack or defend, whichever the situation calls for. Once he realizes that it's just Clint and Jessica, though, he just lays back down, pushing his hair out of his face.
"What the hell, Jessica." Bucky grumbles, moving to give Clint more room.
"What can I say, I attract fuckups." She replies, shrugging as she goes to the kitchen to look for her shitty thrown-together medical supply that she made a couple weeks ago.
She grabs it and returns to the main room, where Clint has already taken off his jacket and is trying to staunch the blood flowing from a cut on his side. His white shirt is already stained crimson, but Jessica just sighs and sits next to him.
"Don't get blood everywhere." She says as she starts to stitch. Clint winces with every move she makes, but she doesn't stop or slow down in the slightest. Soon, it's done. She covers it with gauze and then does a quick once over for other bloody areas, before placing the shitty medical kit on the table.
"Thanks." Clint says, turning to face Jessica, away from the television that served as a distraction from the pain while Jessica stitched him up. "How long has he been here?"
"You are aware that I'm not a doctor or nurse or anything in between, right?" Jessica ignores the question about Bucky.
"You're the closest thing I've got right now."
"What, the Avengers don't have a medical section of their giant tower? Tony Stark doesn't have anything that can stitch you up?" Bucky snipes, entering the conversation.
Clint says nothing. Bucky rolls his eyes, turning back to Spongebob. It's a different episode than the one he was watching from before, and it's the middle of the episode. He's missed the setup into it, but he continues watching anyway.
Eventually, Clint and Bucky fall back asleep (honestly, none of them are ever getting enough sleep) and Jessica just goes back to the case she was working on.
She guesses her apartment is the home for fuckups who used to be under mind control now.
Strangely, she doesn't mind as much as she thought she would have.