Capitolo IV (II): Rules are rules
"I do hope that you're just kidding, Kevin. Okay, now tell me… what are your plans for the future?"
"Huh?"
"With the power I gave you… don't you want to travel around the world?" the demon asks him.
His elbows are resting on the table, his chin rests in his hands, so he can watch his pupil better.
"What? My list of sins around this town is not enough anymore?" the student makes a witty remark.
"To me it's more than okay, I was talking about you. With the power I gave you, you can practically have the world at your feet. Don't you want something for yourself? Anything, really?"
"Sure I do. My graduation." Kevin calmly replies. "Not because I have my powers, but because I've studied hard to achieve it. In November, not only will I graduate top of my class, but I'll also have a year of pre-professional practice. And that's because I want to see the difference between getting inside people's minds when I use my powers and doing it because I have the proper training." he sneers.
"So the world can wait, right?" Crowley shrugs.
"The world can wait." the human confirms.
-
Manhattan, Chase Bank, Plaza Health Club, 22 September 2000
As the police patrol crowds around the bank, against their cars, summoning the robber to let the hostages go and come out with his hands up, a brunette, by then aged fourteen years old, goes inside the building. She's totally unarmed, and after three minutes she comes out with the knocked out robber and the hostages, who are finally free to go on with their lives.
"This is for you," she says, throwing the criminal to the policemen who stare at her, dumbfounded.
Jessica reaches Aziraphale, who is waiting for her at the corner of the street and has enjoyed the whole scene.
"This is the third robbery you've stopped in two months. You definitely know your way." the angel congratulates her as they head back home.
"It's just fun!" the girl grins.
"Crowley was right, I should have quit being so protective of you by now."
"Who is Crowley?" Jessica asks him.
Aziraphale wishes he could have bitten his own tongue.
"Huh, I said nothing important, dear."
"You wouldn't have mentioned him if he wasn't someone important. Come to think of it, you know everything about me, but I know nothing about you. Don't you think it's time to tell me more? Starting from this Crowley…" she insists, with the attitude of one who can become a brilliant detective.
"I find it fair. Okay, what can I say? You already know that angels exist, well, so do demons. Crowley is one of them, although he is so, so different from them all, and he's been on Earth for as long as I have. So, as I chose you as my assistant, he…"
"So are you telling me that there's a fucking asshole among the humans who makes the evil deeds in the world increase? And maybe he even makes me do twice as much work?" she snaps.
"What did we say about that language, not suitable for such a nice girl as you?" Aziraphale rolls his eyes.
"Where the fuck do you see the fucking nice girl?" Jessica retorts and Aziraphale figures out that that is an uphill battle.
"However, know that it was Crowley's idea!"
"So it's your asshole friend's fault if I'm in this fucking mess!"
"He's not an... 'asshole,'" Aziraphale protests, bringing a hand to his mouth a second later, shocked by his dirty language.
"But he's your friend." Jessica figures out, watching the angel blush. "No, wait, he's something more than a friend, am I right?"
"My dear, can we please go back talking about how incredible you were today at the bank?" Aziraphale pleads, covered in a cold sweat.
"Nope, but we can talk about my rival, I'd prefer to know something about him."
"What makes you think that your rival is a 'he'?"
"I don't know, it's my intuition!" the brunette shrugs.
"You know what, Jessica? I'm sure you'll become a brilliant detective." Aziraphale smiles at her. "But I can't tell you anything about your rival, and I think it's better if you never ever meet each other."
"Why not?" the teenager narrows her eyes.
"I don't know, probably you would immediately figure out that you are each other's nemesis, and would try to kill each other."
"Does he have super strength too?" she grows curious.
"Nope, he has something very different, but, as I told you before, I can say nothing about him. Rules are rules." the angel strikes back, inflexible.
London, Colbun Psychology, Bentinck House, Bolsover Street, 03 December 2002
"Here we go, Mr. Hartey, this is your schedule, planned with Dr. Manner to help you with your anger management," the psychologist trainee Kevin Thompson says to the patient he's handling with his mentor.
Everything went according to his plans. He graduated at the top of his class and he's been working as an apprentice in that well-known studio for two years.
He smiles affably at the patient as he walks him to the door.
And it's when the professional figure of Kevin is eagerly replaced by Killgrave.
"We'll start next week. As we try to find the cure for your problem, follow my advice: give vent to your rage, Mr. Hartey," he dismisses him, sending that mental order to him.
"I wasn't joking when I said you were born to do that!" Crowley claps his hands, appearing in front of him out of the blue.
"How many times did I tell you not to spy on me when you're invisible?" Kevin snorts.
"I can't help it, it's too much fun. Besides, this thing about using your own patients is brilliant!" the demon praises him.
"They're not my patients, I don't have my study yet, I just work here as an apprentice." the twenty-six year old man points out. "If he doesn't do any significant damage that can compromise his parole, maybe Dr. Manner will see Mr. Hartey again at their next sitting." he chuckles.
"Why just Dr. Manner? Won't you be with him?" the redhead frowns.
"Do you remember that old speech of some years ago? I guess it's time to travel around the world." the brunet sneers.
-
New York, Central Park, Upper East Side, 24 February 2004
Walking around in one of the most disreputable places late at night, among drug dealers caught off guard, stopped robbers, prevented aggressions and ill-intentioned people she managed to disarm just with a kick, the seventeen-years old Jessica is more than than trained to protect people from every kind of danger or evil deed.
And Central Park has become her favourite playground.
Although she still keeps in touch with Trish, Jessica now lives on her own in a ramshackle apartment in Hell's Kitchen and she is about to open her private detective agency in a few months.
"My dear, I guess I'll never thank you enough for all your amazing progress. Just yesterday, Crowley and I checked on your deeds and you made a gap over your rival of twenty good deeds, nonetheless!" Aziraphale gloats.
"So let me know if I've got it straight. This is just a challenge for you two, isn't it?" Jessica darkens, her hands on her hips.
"Nooo, of course it's not! It's safeguarding people we are talking about; I could never underestimate something so important!" he protests, way too indignated and the young woman, fully developed and with an even fiercer attitude, notices that.
"Zira, Zira, you can't fool me. C'mon, tell me, what did you bet this time?"
"I've driven his Bentley!" the angel reveals, grinning, his eyes shining with joy at the memory.
That was a very traumatic experience for Crowley.
"I knew it!" Jessica rolls her eyes, but actually she is amused. "Well, I'm glad to know I did better than that asshole!" she grins, satisfied.
"I'll try not to mind your last epithet," the angel snorts. "What is certain is that you don't need my constant supervision anymore. It doesn't mean that you can't call me if you need me."
-
New York, Minton's Playhouse, Harlem, 206 W 118th Street, 5 April 2006
She didn't like that man, from the very first moment she saw him on the street.
He's been acting too nervously, too guilty, just like someone who is about to do something horrible.
That's why Jessica changed her mind about the case she was working at and decided to stalk that guy instead.
It's almost ironic how the guy seems to be stalking someone else.
He's been stationed near the Minton's Playhouse for at least a quarter of an hour, an elegant bar in Harlem.
Right after the happy hour time, the object of his interest seems to arrive.
Jessica sees a handsome young man approaching, maybe he's not even thirty years old, he's tall, slender, with elegant manners. He wears a dark blue suit and a grey-baby blue shirt.
He passes his hand more than once though his brown hair that seems to have its own gravity and then he enters the locale.
The suspicious character enters as well, but he does from the backdoor.
Without anyone seeing him, he grabs an apron and wears it.
Truth is that someone did notice him. Jessica enters his same way and doesn't lose sight of him for a second.
She is trying to figure out why he walked behind the counter until a waiter, without even bothering to notice if that man belongs to their staff or not, gives him the handsome man 's drink order.
The suspicious character starts preparing the requested cocktail with trembling hands and then he takes a look around, assuring himself no one is watching him.
He takes a vial from his pocket and pours some of the content inside it.
To Jessica everything is finally clear.
Kevin wasn't joking when he said he wanted to see the world. During those three years he's been practically everywhere: Paris, Strasbourg, Wien, Berlin, Rome, Milan, Madrid, Lisbon, Ireland and many other places.
Usually he doesn't stop in a town for more than two months, but he loved Scotland so much he stayed there for a whole year.
He decided to visit the United States as well and he decided to start from New York. He's been there for a week.
He has a fertile ground to act as Killgrave, especially to instigate women to betrayal.
Something particularly edifying to him.
Sitting on a comfortable red armchair, Killgrave is enjoying the jazz band playing on the small stage, as he ponders the next evil deed he could make someone do.
He recalls the last tally of the deeds Crowley has told him about, a couple of weeks before.
The most incredible thing is that the two rivals reached the same amount of deeds, nearly perfectly even.
- That little girl is not the disaster she used to be at the beginning anymore, when I could beat her even in my sleep. Well, it's getting more challenging this way. - he muses, more amused rather than annoyed.
The waiter places his Manhattan on Kevin's table, but before he can bring the glass to his mouth, someone snatches it out of his hand rather violently, breaking it in hundreds of pieces.
"If i were you, I wouldn't drink it. Someone put something funny inside it." a rough female voice warns him.
Raising his gaze, Kevin sees a young girl, probably twenty years old, with big eyes that embrace bright hazel and dark green. She's very tall, with an athletic figure. Her long legs are wrapped inside her skinny black jeans. Her white jacket creates a contrast with her black, satin hair, gathered in a soft chignon that lets some wild locks free, framing her perfect visage. Her mouth has full and sensual lips and her dark red lipstick sets them off.
Kevin is sure he hasn't ever seen a more beautiful girl than her.
TBC
Notes:I know, I know it's evil to stop here… Killgrave made me do it, LOL
I really love the AU where he's a psychologist (oh well even if only a trainee, he already did some damages XD without mentioning the fact that my mind popped the image of Barty Crouch Junior as a Kevin's patient who has very huge trouble controlling his rage… but also Aec Hardy who would snap every second, LOL, too many crossovers in my mind XD )
Hope you'll like it but feel free to tell me anything 3