A/N: First of all, this whole work was inspired by rogue-star over on Tumblr. Who has made a bunch of gorgeous edits, but I highly recommend checking these ones out in particular as they inspired and will continue to influence this fic:

post/156322385963/rebelcaptain-au-superheros-after-jyns-mother

post/156340794153/rogue-one-au-superheros-the-squad-is-a-group-of

Title of the fic is taken from the song Long Way Down by Robert DeLong. I highly recommend giving it a listen, and I will probably be creating an unofficial playlist for this fic before very long.

Recommended listening for this chapter is the Jessica Jones Original Soundtrack.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 1: aka Prologue

Being a private investigator meant exactly two things; 1. that Jyn Erso didn't have many friends, and 2. that her experiences led her to dividing the world into two categories; con-artists (a category which included unfaithful spouses, actual con-artists, as well as loan sharks, lawyers, and politicians), and those who got duped by con-artists. Perhaps it was that the second of these facts made the first one true, but Jyn didn't have time for the philosophy or the psychoanalyzing that would be required to sort out that bundle of character flaws; she had bills to pay. PI-ing kept her fed, and kept a roof over her head (for the most part), if she found a better option someday maybe she'd take it, but at this point in her life Jyn was good at exactly two things: breaking-and-entering, and beating people up. This didn't leave her with many legal career options, and she'd already exhausted the illegal ones. So Jyn was a private-eye, end of story.

Except for the fact that it wasn't, not by a long shot; there was a whole lot more to Jyn Erso than met the eye, but Jyn worked hard to make sure that nobody important – nobody with an agenda – ever knew about that.

Jyn could and would meet a car head-on in order to stop it in its tracks and thereby keep a bail-hopper from leaving town. After all, who was going to believe him if he told anyone? She'd lift the occasional drug-dealer clean off the ground and several inches above her head in order to frighten him away from a client. But again, who would believe the ravings of a drug dealer who probably sampled his own wares? She'd even use her powers to get a better angle for her camera. But these were harmless displays, easily laughed off as a trick of the eye, or as downright absurd. No sane individual would trust something as easily influenced as their senses to credibly report a woman jumping ten feet vertically into the air. But the world was getting smaller, and the rumors about "Superhumans" were getting louder, and were being met with less skepticism. It was said that there was a secret committee in Congress tasked with dealing with the problems that Supers posed. And those weren't even the worrying rumours… It was also said that there was a secret organization engaging in extrajudicial killings, the likes of which haven't been seen since lynch-mobs were a socially acceptable way to spend your Saturday afternoon.

It wouldn't be long before Jyn would probably be forced to move on from New York. Too much suspicion about her methods would mean being forced to adopt a new identity again, would mean moving to a new city… maybe even a new country.

But to be able to afford any of that, she'd need money. And to get money, she had to work. And so the cycle went on and on, until her alarm clock went off at four in the afternoon and Jyn threw it at the wall, busting yet another dent in the plaster.

Jyn sat up and scrubbed her hands across her eyes, greeting the day with a terse "Shit."

Two hours later, after a cold shower, a breakfast of leftover cold pizza, and the realization that she had exactly 17 hours before her next meeting with her current client who was threatening to drop her if she didn't find some sort of dirt on her husband before then, Jyn found herself wandering the familiar streets of New York City. The night was dark and every surface shone with a layer of water left by the rain clouds that had passed overhead not an hour before, reflecting back the lights of passing cars and neon signs in an almost psychedelic display. It was a typical autumn evening for New York by all accounts. The air had a bite to it that warned everyone of the coming frosts of winter, and another year of biting cold.

Jyn did not relish the thought of another winter spent in her damp and drafty apartment. But funds were still too low to move, and her current place was the only apartment in the whole city that she could actually afford, or so it seemed. Jyn wrapped her arms around herself as she walked, pulling her jacket more firmly against her body and ducking her head into her scarf against the bitter winds of a phantom Nor' Easter that she could already feel howling through the streets. Jyn hated being cold, had done ever since she was sixteen years old and Saw Gerrera had left her in middle-of-nowhere, South Dakota in late November. Being cold just reminded her of the fact that she was alone in the world, surviving on naught but her wits and the skills that Saw had drilled into her. Surviving in spite of all that had been thrown her way, and in spite of all the people who had ever abandoned her because she wasn't worth their time or support… Jyn preferred to let such thoughts fester rather than examine them, it simply hurt too much to think about; why her mother had left her, why her father didn't want her, why Saw had raised her only to leave her for dead… No, it was better just to distract herself with work and other shiny things. But it all led to one conclusion: Jyn hated the cold.

So lost in thought, Jyn almost ran right into her mark. A rookie mistake, the likes of which she hadn't made in many years. She was left breathing down the necks of the man she was tailing, as well as that of his companion for the evening. Fortunately however, the two seemed so lost in their own little world that Jyn, standing far too close for what was considered polite or normal, didn't even factor into it. Even as she watched, the man pulled his companion closer and whispered something, no doubt salacious, in her ear. Jyn's lip curled in disgust.

The fact that this man's wife had to hire her to figure out that he was cheating didn't speak highly of the woman's intelligence. The husband was hardly discreet, meeting his date for the evening right out of work, and bringing her to the same restaurants that he frequented with his wife.

Not for the first time, Jyn found herself thanking her lucky stars that she seemed to be immune to the charms of both men and women. A casual fling now-and-then? Sure. But in Jyn's line of work she could see more clearly than most that attachment, feelings, love; they only led to problems. It was within that grey-area between love, jealousy, and possessiveness where Jyn plied her trade, and she'd be damned if she let herself fall prey to the same traps that her clients came to her in order to sort out.

A few blocks further along, Jyn started snapping pictures from across the street as the couple she stalked starting necking on a park bench. Between these pictures and the ones that she had taken at the restaurant, Jyn had the evidence necessary to get her client that divorce, and more importantly, her own paycheck.

Satisfied with her work, Jyn packed up her camera and started heading towards the location of another job that had fallen into her lap earlier that week. Her mark for this assignment was a restraining-order-breaking-jailbird, and Jyn was determined to see this bastard back where he belonged.

If there was one class of person Jyn hated more than any other, it was people who were told to back-off and who didn't get the message the first time.

Interrogations of the Bastard's friends from the past few evenings revealed that the Bastard was still in town, and that he was falling back into old patterns; visiting his favorite bars and clubs by night and holing up with his buddies by day. Jyn started making her way towards one of the clubs now, taking short-cuts through the network of alleys that she knew like the back of her hand.

By this point in her life in New York City, Jyn had made enough of a reputation for herself amongst the criminal classes of the city that she could walk these streets all hours of the day and only rarely be harassed or accosted. Word spread quickly about the PI with the super-strength, and it was only the uninitiated that tried to mug her now. Jyn walked past a group of such men on the way to the club, men who might otherwise have seen a diminutive girl like her as a mark. She tossed them a cocky grin and a flippant wave as she passed. The men glared daggers at her, some avoided looking at her altogether, but not one moved a muscle to provoke her further or prevent her freedom of movement through their turf.

Being a Super had its difficulties, but Jyn wouldn't give up this ability to take on the entire world for anything.

Sure enough, when Jyn arrived at the club (one of New York's lower-end establishments) the Bastard was arguing with the bouncers over how drunk he already was in order to get inside. Much to Jyn's displeasure the bouncers glanced at each other but relented; apparently not paid enough to bother with the Bastard until he actually caused trouble. Or maybe they were just looking forward to dealing with him when they'd have the excuse to rough him up a bit. Either way, the Bastard was entering the club, and Jyn knew that in her current outfit (jeans, combat boots, thick scarf, leather jacket, and messenger bag) that she would stick out like a sore thumb if she were to get inside. There was nothing for it, Jyn would just have to wait until he moved on and see if he went someplace where she could blend-in a bit better, and get close enough to grab him.

Jyn glanced around the street, taking in her surroundings and looking for a suitable place to hunker-down and loiter for an hour or two. The street was little more than a back-alley itself, located in a disused old warehouse district by the river on the Westside. There wasn't much here aside from a few wannabe edgy clubs and old storage facilities, not to mention the permanent musty stink of the Hudson.

There were a few alleyways that would be fine to crouch in under normal circumstances, but with the bouncers waiting outside the door, she would definitely be noticed eventually. And PI's weren't exactly good for a club's business. "Damn it," Jyn hissed and began walking down the road. She'd have to do this another night, and would probably have to do it in heels…

By the time Jyn was several blocks away she had decided to go to the all-night diner over on 8th near the Garment District. Their pancakes were still the best in the city, and those pancakes plus bottomless refills of coffee were calling her name as a consolation prize for the bounty she wouldn't be collecting tonight. Lost in thought, Jyn put one foot out to cross the street when a van tore around the corner and skidded to a halt in front of her, nearly running her over.

"Oi! Watch it, asshole!" Jyn cursed, thumping the side of the van for good measure.

Jyn barely had time to react as the door to the van slid open, and several sets of arms grabbed her, hauling her into the vehicle.

Under normal circumstances, Jyn would have no trouble freeing herself from four unarmed men, even as tiny as she was. Strength was her specialty, Saw had told her, just as the manipulation of metal was his, and he had tried to train her as best he could in the mastery of her talent. She could now throw a punch without the fear of killing a man, and jog without the fear of not being able to stop, but every once in a while her control would falter, and accidents happened.

These were not normal circumstances: and even though one of the four men had managed to get a bag over her head, Jyn was still able to kick two of them away, cracking at least one sternum in the process. The other two she shoved into the sides of the van so hard that the impact dented the steel. At which point, Jyn was able to pull the hood off of her head and survey the damage. Fortunately, the men were still alive, if knocked out or incapacitated. There was nothing defining about the inside of the van, or of the men's uniforms, that would provide Jyn with any information as to why they'd kidnapped her in the first place.

Jyn felt the van screech to a halt, and she had to throw her arm out to keep from toppling over. Two doors slammed from the front of the vehicle, and Jyn readied herself to take these new captors on. The side-door slid open, albeit with some difficulty as it was blocked by one of the unconscious men's head. But the moment it was wide enough Jyn bolted, taking out one of the new kidnappers simply by throwing herself out of the van. However, by the time she scrambled to her feet and got a good look at her surroundings Jyn knew that she was screwed. Aside from the driver, and his now-unconscious companions, there were at least ten other similarly black-clad men, as well as a helicopter hovering above her and pointing a spot light down at her between the buildings.

"Jyn Erso, stand down." A voice ordered over a megaphone. "Put your hands up where we can see them, or we will have no choice but to use lethal force."

Jyn considered her options: she couldn't outrun ten or more guns, and she certainly couldn't fight ten or more fully-armed men on her own, and they had travelled a significant enough distance that there was no one in sight, and theoretically no one to hear her scream… Jyn didn't like those odds.

It could never be said that Jyn didn't know when she was beat. Her hands went into the air, as directed. But when she felt a sharp sting in the side of her neck, one hand went to the source of the pain and pulled out what appeared to be a tranquilizer dart.

Jyn's eyes scanned the group of kidnappers frantically, looking for the person who'd shot her. But before she could identify the shooter, suddenly the world up-ended and turned on its side leaving Jyn lying on the pavement and trying to process how she'd gotten there. Jyn's last thoughts before finally succumbing to the drug now coursing through her system were of how she was still really craving the pancakes from the diner on 8th. She watched passively as the assailants closed in around her, lowering their weapons, and patting each other on the back. She felt one of the men roll her over onto her front, and place her hands in cuffs, but her tongue wouldn't obey her command to protest as the man put his full weight against her spine to do so.

"Tell Director Krennic we've found another one…" One of the men said, presumably into a comm-link. "– Not a telepath, no. But her sequencing will still be useful for the Sentinel… Copy that, we're bringing her back to the facility now."

Then Jyn knew no more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Obviously, my characterization of Jyn in this AU draws heavily from Jessica Jones. Which; the more I thought about it the more it seemed to fit.

Next up: Cassian deals with some unpleasant memories (or not), and the crew gets sent on a rescue mission.