Buildings disappeared below her in blurred lights and colours. People on the street were little more than tiny specks from her perspective, all gathered in moving clusters. Jessica didn't care that her legs were dangling in midair, The adrenaline of "flying" after being severely out of practice overpowered everything else.
Reaching the blaze that had screamed for her intervention, she brought herself to a stop. Frenzied wind whipped through her hair as she pulled her legs out, noting that she'd have a smooth landing; her flying skills (or a lack thereof) did not often allow her that privilege.
The crunch of gravel beneath her feet provided a welcome change from the trashbags she usually landed on. No one bat an eye at Jessica, too absorbed in the maelstrom of rioting and stealing without any police to stop them. Using the fact no one was watching her to her benefit, she in turn watched everything else around her.
What she saw could only be described as raw, unfettered chaos. Looters, the likes of which Jessica had only seen from a safe distance on the news, smashed up corner stores and small businesses without ever stopping to think, letting passion guide them. Those with even worse violent tendencies smashed up other people instead. Black on black, white on white, it made no difference; the blood that spilled was always red and in the name of sport. Friends and interested strangers watched from the sidelines, cheering for whoever they had bet on winning. One man had a fist fly across his face and Jessica heard a painful crack, but never confirmed if his nose had been broken. She had turned away since then.
Through it all, the fire and the flames crackled in the air, their influence continuing to establish a choke. Smoke made it difficult to breathe and may have choked Jessica's lungs, had she not been a superhuman capable of taking much worse.
Another window not far from her shattered, and she ducked on instinct. Moments later, a man landed at her feet as a balled-up clump. Jessica raised her head in the slowest fashion possible, unsure if anyone else would fly out from the window.
Someone walked out from where the door was – or had been, in this case. There was only one man who could step on broken glass so casually and it did not surprise Jessica when a familiar face met hers, though his goatee had grown a considerable bit thicker since their last meeting. Luke Cage seemed to be leaning more into the "facial hair" look, his goatee having grown a considerable bit thicker since their last proper meeting.
Luke: Been a while.
He didn't so much as budge, let alone greet her with a hug or some cheerfulness in a time of anything but.
Jessica: Could say that.
While Jessica's exterior also betrayed her true feelings, to an extent, she made no effort to hold back a dry smile.
Jessica: So are you gonna throw any more people at me, or…
Luke: That was the last of them. Hopefully.
Having seen Luke's bar perfectly intact some weeks ago, Jessica noticed the sign had been displaced from its usual spot and instead sat on the floor. The neon letters that were once a vivid glow had faded. To make matters worse, one of the letters had disappeared, leaving Luke's Bar as Lue's Br with no colour at all.
Jessica: More rioters? you'll be fighting them off all night.
Luke: Not rioters. Mobster-type guys on Hobgoblin's payroll. They want to turn my bar into a damn…
Searching for the right words, he paused.
Luke: …gentlemen's club.
Jessica could tell from his reluctance that gentlemen's club was being used as a euphemism for strip club, but the situation did not permit the luxury of prying. Nor did it allow for a catch-up with Luke, one of the few people in the hero world she could consistently rely on.
As if the world sensed her want for the time to reconnect, it worked in the exact opposite direction. A car engine came to a sputtering halt outside of Luke's bar. The vehicle, a few decades older than them both, had its front riddled with scuffs and bullet marks.
Two men dressed in formal wear aimed their weapons outside the open windows. Tommy guns, fittingly, and she received a forceful push to the curb from Luke before she could come up with her own response.
The two men fired. No life could be seen in their faces, only the cold precision of armed guns doing their job. Even as the bullets reigned down upon their target, standing still and accepting his fate, they were as silent as the death they intended to exact.
A round of bullets fired off with the intent of ripping him to shreds. They succeeded, if only in ripping to shreds holes in Luke's top. In one breath, muttering something Jessica couldn't fully hear with her ears closed about having to buy another yellow shirt, he pushed out the bullets one by one. Not without experiencing some discomfort; Being impenetrable did not mean immunity to pain.
Seeing the men's faces turn pale as bullets clattered to the ground without getting a drop of blood out of him, he raised an eyebrow. While Jessica had her hands clamped over her ears and hoped that more gunshots wouldn't ring out, Luke stood his ground and dared them to try again.
Declining his challenge of a raised eyebrow, the two men who now knew now not to trouble Luke's Bar retreated back into the car. An engine far past its prime began the process of bringing itself to life, a feat no less impressive than Luke's bulletproof skin.
Her breathing calmed down after the blasting abated, certifying the fight as over. It never got any less unnerving to witness Luke's ability. Someone could shoot him in the face, point-blank, and it wouldn't do a thing to him. Jessica wished she had that sort of mental toughness. She did, anyone else could see that, but no one could convince herself otherwise.
Luke: You alright?
Luke reached a hand out for Jessica, and she pulled herself up using it.
Jessica: You're the one who got shot about a dozen times, not me.
Her way of saying thank you, and Luke appreciated it in his own way with a slight tilt of his head.
After some deliberation, the car was resurrected and started to drive away from the bar. It did not move fast, not by any means, but it beat normal walking speed. Luke had no speed-related powers and used his strength to compensate, and then there was the unreliable nature of Jessica's "flying".
Luke: If they lead us to the main 'goblin himself, we might start getting somewhere.
Jessica: It's not like we can chase them on foot.
Luke: I know.
Jessica waited for him to continue, but looking up at his blank stare made the idea he had in mind obvious.
Jessica: Don't tell me you want me to fly us there.
Luke: It's more like guided falling, but you can call it flying.
Jessica gave a roll of her eyes, but only because she knew him calling it 'guided' was generous and her leap from 37th had been sheer miracle. He held on to her shoulder. She bent her knees and, only now catching the eyes of a few rioters coming back with their newest finds, propelled herself into the air along with Luke.
On the outside, Jessica could only glance at the front he presented; that layer of cool applied so that no one messed with Luke Cage. But behind all the exaggerated machismo, Luke may have been just the tiniest bit scared, or else he wouldn't have been gripping her arm so tight while looking anywhere but down.
They kept within distance of the car, paying attention to one black blip in a kaleidoscope of a city even during the darkest of nights, turning whenever it turned and following it down streets torn apart by the desire for violence and more violence. Jessica kept on its tail without them ever realising, or being able to appreciate the irony of them making it that much easier for her and Luke. the drivers making their work even easier for them.
A different scent from the usual smoky air gave their senses an alternative. Breezes carried chlorinated water and salt that drifted in with it from the sea. Luke watched the car break off from the main roads, hurtling past a stop sign and onto a bridge leading out of the city.
Luke: Looks like they're headed downtown.
Jessica: Sure smells like it.
Finding the scent stronger, but not necessarily better, Jessica shrivelled up her nose as she continued her silent pursuit with Luke in tow, hanging on (or by, depending on how one saw things) her arm.
…
After a while of shadowing the car in near-perfect rhythm, Jessica became self-conscious about how long it'd be until her powers gave up on her. It wasn't a lack of confidence, just an inevitability. Jewel flew long distances like a light jog. Jewel also wore a pink wig and flaunted her cameltoe, which played a part in that saga in her life being buried for longer than she cared to remember.
A weight was lifted from her back when the car came to a stop. A heavier weight slammed back down when she remembered two things. One; she needed to make a safe landing. Two; she had Luke's safety to worry about as well. Granted, a nasty fall wouldn't hurt him – not much ever did – but she preferred avoiding one if possible.
Searching for somewhere out of sight and out of the minds of those they were pursuing, she scanned over the world below and spotted three oil drums standing next to each other. Deciding that they made for a perfect hiding spot, Jessica willed her body to adjust altitude.
Since present-day Jessica Jones couldn't fly, and had no idea how she'd been holding on for so long, she placed herself ten years in the past and in the mind of that Jessica. She channelled the version of herself who soared without a care, who had not fully been robbed of innocence. The Jessica who performed aerial dives like a spitfire, and when she felt particularly daring, with her hands tied behind her back.
It was this transportation into her past that allowed Jessica and Luke to drop behind the oil drums as a silent shadow. Pleased, she looked at her feet, confirming they were still there and intact. Equally surprised that she had done the unbelievable, but not saying as much, Luke peered across their temporary cover, but could not see much without making himself visible. The click of a car door opening told him the mobsters were on foot.
Luke: Do we make our move?
Jessica: Let's just keep watching for now.
Not having the same reservations as her partner, Jessica poked her head up from the oil drum. If the crowing seagulls hadn't made it obvious enough, they were as close to the sea as most people were willing to get, herself included. Trapping them in and lapping against the end of the dock, or what had once been a dock, were murky waters holding any number of unseen horrors.
Putting aside, Directly across from Jessica's line of sight was a warehouse twice the size of most supermarkets but a shadow of any former glory. Whatever name it once had was lost to the passing of years, the letters gone and their outline too faded to be read.
The two men who had shot at Luke disappeared into the warehouse. One of them checked behind for safe measure. By then, Jessica had hidden herself and he decided the coast was clear. Jessica gave the nod to Luke, as that had always been their signal, and the two made their move. His complexion, and Jessica's similarly black leather jacket, granted them near invisibility as they carried themselves through the night.
Luke: One question, Jones.
Jessica: Go ahead.
Luke: You got a plan here, or are we just going in blind?
Jessica: Of course I have a plan.
Jessica's abrupt reply ended up giving away the truth. Working to remedy that lack of forward thinking in haphazard fashion, she stopped and pressed an ear against the door.
Gunshots she expected to hear, but not the cacophony overpowering them. Mystic battle chants were followed up by a flurry of attacks and cries for mercy. If her muffled hearing did not deceive her, Jessica would have sworn those chants belonged to…
No. Not him. Meeting Luke again had already been one reunion more than expected.
Bones snapped on the other side of the door, causing Jessica to wince as she imagined painful scenarios. Whoever it was fighting in there had a good handle on the situation, with or without the help of two genetically enhanced Luke by her side and cracking his fists, Jessica saw fit to open the door. When she entered, she found that carefulness to be in direct contrast to the two heroes making a mockery of the Hobgoblin's army.
Despite Jessica's initial refusal to believe that it was him, she noticed Danny first - Iron Fist. He had the fluidity of water, moving like a breeze as he dodged the punches from a man who relied on weapons and not his own power. Jessica ducked to the right as he dispatched another mobster in all-black, throwing him over his head and sending him flying in her direction.
Helping him in the fight was Matt Murdock - or, as the world at large knew him as, Daredevil. Appearances were even more deceiving in his case than with Danny's. No one expected a man with two horns on his head to be a real threat. If Danny moved like water, then Matt was an inferno. Before Jessica even noticed them coming towards him he had already smacked his would-be assassins with his billy club.
One fell immediately. Matt watched his more stubborn friend stagger, only for his feet to give out and him to join his friend on the ground.
Iron Fist: That's another one down.
Daredevil: You were counting?
Iron Fist: Tried to. I kind of lost count after fifty.
They had made a considerable pile. Multiple piles, clumps of bodies with arms sticking out, littered the warehouse. Danny made a point of scanning the warehouse for anyone still standing. Once he caught sight of two old friends on the floor below him, he cast himself over the railing. Landing perfectly without a need to recall past memories, like Jessica, Danny scrutinized Luke up and down first.
Iron Fist: You cut your hair.
He noted, observing Luke's clean-shaven head.
Luke: You're still wearing that ridiculous mask.
They laughed with each other. That much hadn't changed. Even in the face of adversity, when the city's lifespan was short and only getting shorter, they found it in them to joke. Jessica just shook her head and waited for her turn to be greeted. When he turned to her, he gave a subtle bow. Respectful as always.
Iron Fist: Nice to see you again, Jessica.
Jessica: Yeah, nice to see you too.
Iron Fist: Sorry this had to be under such…circumstances.
Jessica: Hey, city-wide crime waves are exactly the kind of thing that bring people like us together.
Danny smiled, and the brightness on his face was returned by Jessica when she smiled back. That much had changed. Last anyone remembered, it took a miracle to get a smile out of Jessica Jones.
Matt joined them last. His eyes creased with happiness under his mask, and it was noticeable, but just faintly.
They all buzzed, even Jessica, each one of them unable to stay still and not see how much the other three had changed. So much had to be left unsaid or saved for a later date, what with their line of work not taking kindly to chitchat.
Daredevil: Guess this means the Defenders are back?
He asked, but only for the sake of saying it. Agreement was written clearly on every one of their faces.
Daredevil: That other team aren't going to be too happy about us taking their name.
A pregnant pause followed. Matt, who had always been more in tune with the hero world's comings and goings, gave the obviously necessary explanation.
Daredevil: Those other guys also calling themselves the Defenders. Doctor Strange, Silver Surfer, Valkyrie…
While a distracted Matt listed off a string of superheroes with no cohesive idea behind the roster beyond their inability to gel with any other team (the parallels were not lost on Jessica), a development occurred in the corner of Jessica's eye. Over her shoulder, she chanced at being the first to realise Matt and Danny's victory had not been a sound one.
Two men, making a recovery out of sheer willpower and defiance, got to their feet. Jessica would not forget so soon being pushed to the ground, recognising them as the same men who shot at him to no avail. From another pile, in such a sorry state that one of his shoes had gone missing, another man emerged. Then another followed in his footsteps, and another, and it did not take long after that for the Defenders to find the odds stacked against them.
Energy, the outward manifestation of years of training and dedication to the martial arts, glowed around Danny's fists. He stood with his back to Matt, Jessica with her back to Luke's.
Iron Fist: Just like old times.
Luke Cage: Yeah, and we better be getting paid like old times too.
The mobsters lacking the sense to stay down launched themselves at the Defenders, who responded in the same manner they always did when surrounded, as they so often were; with everything they had.
NEXT: We catch up with Spider-Gwen...and you'll never guess who else returns! Stay tuned.