Hey! First, I wanna apologize if you see any mistake. English isn't my first language so... please tell me if you see anything weird so I can correct it :) Anyway, have a great day and I hope that you'll like it!

Jessica had never really experienced happiness since her family had died. She had felt and still felt a lot of things but happiness just didn't seem to belong in her. Even after killing Killgrave, she thought she would feel happy.

What a foolish though.

Guiltiness, relief and shame were what she had felt. Sure, she had just freed the world from a nameless psychopath, but she had taken another life. It didn't matter that Killgrave was a horrible man who dedicated his life to ruining others', no matter how much he disgusted her, she had taken someone's live with her bare hands.

A part of her brain was trying to rationalize, to tell her that she had made the world a better place for human kind. But the other part of her brain was just feeling shame, guilt and self-angriness.

She had played God and now, it was time to pay the price.

Jessica grabbed her cheap bottle of whisky by the neck and approached it from her mouth, drinking directly from the bottle, not bothering to take a glass. She wasn't even sure she still had any, and at the sight of her kitchen (apartment really), she wasn't going to look for one.

The brunette had always drunk to numb the pain. The guilt from the crash car who took her family away, the guilt from leaving Trish all alone…

But since Killgrave, Jessica was drinking to forget. Hoping to drown her despair.

Jessica hated it, because if anything, the alcohol only seemed to make her remember even more what she so desperately wanted to forget.

But she still drank, hoping every time that the result would be different. That maybe something if she'd drink more, she would somehow forget it all, even if it meant becoming a shadow of herself.

Tonight, she was as always, drinking to forget.

Forget the way she had felt the pulse in his carotid, the way his dark eyes had scrutinized her, filled with pity and defiance, the incomprehension look on Trish's face, his vertebras' noise when they had broken, the goosebumps she had had when his neck had eventually snapped.

She could still feel him between her fingers if she focused hard enough.

She finished her bottle in one big gulp. She would buy some tomorrow, she was beginning to run low. She dragged herself to her bed, not even bothering to strip out of her clothes or shoes.

In spite of all her excessiveness and her outstanding devil-may-care behavior to appear so careless about every aggressions life had thrown at her, the brunette sometimes dreamed that she wouldn't feel so much and that she'd learn to actually not give fuck.

But the more she tried to bury her feelings six feet under the ground, under layers and layers of psychological pain and derision, the deeper they were hurting her and affecting her.

Tonight, living, breathing, being an actual human being, ached too much.

She was woken up when she felt the bed dug beside her. Mind fogged by alcohol, her hangover and instincts took over, and before she knew it, she was straddling a very sad looking Trish with her hands wrapped around the blonde's neck.

Seeing her hands around someone's neck seemed to trigger something and her hands started to shake violently as they flew away from Trish's skin like it had burned her.

"Didn't your mother teach you how to knock?" the brunette said as she fell back gracelessly on the bed.

"You know it wasn't on her top list priorities," the blonde said, her voice emotionless.

Jessica turned around, feeling guilty for bringing the subject of Trish's mom at such a moment. Her voice sounded so empty, it was terrifying. She hadn't heard this emptiness since a long ass time.

"Why are you here?"

She felt the mattress moved a little and judging by the noise Trish was making, she easily guessed her friend was sobbing.

"I can't- I can't sleep, Jess. I'm-I'm terrified. I can still feel him."

And Jessica hated the way she knew exactly what Trish was talking about. That feeling you get, when Killgrave told you to do something. The mental war you had to go through. The torpor you were in.

"Why are you really here, Trish? We both know that I'm not competent to handle emotional chaos, you could handle that by yourself."

Jessica hated how her voice sounded to her own ears, harsh and cold. But she knew it was necessary. She couldn't be what Trish needed her to be. She couldn't be that person, her rock. Not when she was silently collapsing herself.

"I need you," Trish whispered.

It was so low that, for a moment, Jessica thought she had imagined it.

Jessica turned around, only to find her friend already watching her, those green eyes boring into hers. All sad and full of tears and pain and every emotion that Jessica wished wouldn't be there.

Trish harshly rubbed her tears away.

"I just- need you. I can't do it on my own."

Even when Trish had begged her to get her out of rehab, the blonde hadn't sounded so broken.

"I can't. You know I'm no good," she replied coldly.

"You don't have to be good. You just have to be there."

A new wave of tears took over Trish's eyes and Jess felt her heart sank in guilt and angriness. Guilt towards herself and angriness at Killgrave for turning the only person she had ever loved about into a wreck.

"Please," escaped Trish's mouth, but Jessica could see the please lingering in her green eyes too.

And Jessica felt like a monster, she wanted her friend, she needed her but more than anything she needed to shield her from the monster that she was. And being a killer for the good cause and being what Trish needed at the same time was simply not a part she thought she could handle.

But right now, she wasn't in her right mind and she was selfish and aching for touch. Something that would ground her while she was internally drowning with her tears and her heart was sinking at the bottom of the ocean that were her depression and her lethargy. And it had been too long since she had been held by someone. And she needed it like she needed oxygen to breath and alcohol to sleep.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, because the decision she was taking now would shape her future in ways she wasn't ready to think about and rather not think about either.

Expect, she didn't want to deal with the consequences of the choice she was doing right now. She just wanted to live right now. Carpe diem.

"Okay," Jessica whispered.

It was so low that she almost didn't hear it herself. But apparently Trish did and threw, threw, herself onto her friend and Jess' arms wrapped around her automatically.

For someone so allergic to body contact, the movements came naturally easy.

She could feel Trish's tears running on her shoulders before falling on the mattress. She could feel her shaking in her arms, goosebumps everywhere, her legs intertwined with hers, holding her tight as if begging to never let go.

And Jessica didn't know how to feel, because it should be her. She should be the one crying a sea out of her eyes, she should be the one to feel angry and sad until her body couldn't take it anymore and she needed her friend's help.

Except it wasn't.

The only thing she felt was this hole inside her, emptiness, bringing tears to her eyes, because she didn't know how to feel. And it was absolutely terrifying.

So she just focused on Trish.

Her tears had stopped by now but her body was still trembling. Jessica smelled her fresh coconut shampoo, along with exhaustion and despair. The brunette could feel her breath against her neck, still erratic and warm.

"We're going to be alright, right?" Trish asked, her voice sounded so broken and hopeful.

It made the brunette's heart break in two because even thought she wanted them to be alright, they would always have this bitter taste Killgrave left them with.

Maybe not all the time, but it would always be there, in the back of their mind.

"I just murdered someone, Trish."

It wasn't an answer but it was one at the same time. They're not alright.

Trish moved so she could look into Jessica's eyes. "Did you mean it? What you said on the docks."

Jessica didn't even have to ask what 'it' was, they both knew what 'it' was. She couldn't bear the adoration look Trish was giving her so she turned her head.

Trish took her chin in her hand and whispered "Do you mean it?" Her eyes were bloodshot, tears threatening to spill at any moment.

And for a moment Jessica forgot it all. She just… forgot how she had just killed a man, forgot about all the innocent lives she could have saved, about Reba, about Luke, about being mind-fucked so bad she just wanted to self-destruct, about Trish almost dying... She forgot the pain for a moment.

"Yes."

Jess hadn't even realized she was crying until she felt the pad of Trish's left thumb smearing a tear on her cheek.

"I want to kiss you," Trish whispered.

"You shouldn't. I'm no good for you. You deserve so much better."

"What if I don't want someone better? What if I want you?"

Jessica couldn't say who started the kiss. The only thing she knew was that Trish's lips were on hers and for the second time this night, she just forgot the pain and felt something other than guilt and despair and emptiness. She wished she could kiss Trish all the time if it meant feeling like this. Her lips tasted like salt and were chapped because of crying so much, but it still tasted right. And she needed a little right tonight. So she let her best (only) friend kissed her, enjoying every second of it because she was selfish and desperate and didn't want to think about what the kiss meant.

Trish backed off slowly. "It's okay if you're not ready yet. We'll come around," her thumb was caressing her cheek softly.

Jessica wanted to believe her, but she wasn't sure she could ever be ready, to be what Trish needed her to be.

The blonde resumed her position, an arm thrown protectively over Jessica's stomach and her head safely tucked in the brunette's neck.

"We're going to be alright."