I stayed on the library floor for quite a while, just laying there, starring at the books in front of me, not really seeing them. This couldn't be it, could it? The rest of my life? There must be something else. A reason for all this. There was always a reason.

I sat up, leaning against the shelf. I was in the philosophy section, all the way in the back, tucked away in a corner with the books barely anybody read. I pulled one out, began reading it, then stopped. Not because I couldn't understand it, but because I could. It made sense to me, but it shouldn't. I pulled out another one, bigger, more serious looking, opened it up in the middle and read. Why on earth was I able to understand this? This should be complete nonsense to me, part of my brain thought so too, but the rest understood every word I read, some of which I'd never even seen before.

I put the the books back and left the section, heading into the foreign language one with that nagging feeling again at the back of my mind.

My eyes fell on a French book to my right, I pulled it out and began reading. Then I pulled one out of the Spanish section, next one in Russian, then even one in Chinese. I could read them, not just read, but actually make sense of them. What the hell was going on? Why the fuck was my head hurting again? Was I hallucinating?

I left the library and hurried back to my dorm room, my head pounding and the strange feeling still at the back of my mind. All I wanted was to know what the hell was going on. What was happening to me? Why on earth could I read languages I had never learned. I took some painkillers and crawled into bed. This all, the last few weeks, they felt like a bad dream, a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. This couldn't possibly all be really happening, could it?

I dreamed I was in New York again. Back with Kilgrave, the night before the murder. We were talking about his powers. I could see myself on the bed, bruises all over my body. I could see him next to me, touching me, smiling. All I wanted to do was to beat the living crap out of him. I moved closer as they continued talking. I'd reached the foot of the bed when he suddenly looked up, straight at me. I froze, this wasn't supposed to happen, he shouldn't be able to see me, but he looked at me intently.

"Now pay attention, this is important.", he turned back to past me, continued their conversation.

"You mean, make you reveal your powers, don't you? Doubt you have any at all. But all right, I'll give it a go. I order you to reveal any and all superpower you might possess or are yet to have, right now!"

I was no longer standing at the foot of the bed as an observer. I was now on the bed, in the place of my past-self. I could feel his eyes scanning me, waiting in anticipation for something to happen.

"Anything?"

"No.", I lied.