you guys.. i am so sorry it's taken me so long to update. life has been.. well, i'm sure we all know what it's been like recently. motivation has been scarce. my muse has been playing so hard to get that i'm pretty sure it's now a toxic relationship. but, my single brain cell and i managed to wrangle all the motivation and creativity i had together and came up with this latest chapter. i still have big plans and i'm really hoping this will light a fire under my ass again to get more updates out more regularly. fingers crossed. anyway, i hope people are still invested in the story and i hope you enjoy!

Space Between Us

Jessica turns her back on her sink to lean against the edge, listening to the bristles of her toothbrush moving back and forth across her teeth. The twisted sense of victory that took root in her soul when she watched Kurata tell Hogarth his story is like nothing she's ever felt before. She's felt the thrill of cracking a case that no one else could, the satisfaction of putting in the work and sticking with her gut and seeing it pay off; but this… this is different.

There's fear, still. Of course there is. Because Jessica's greatest weakness is that, occasionally, she gives a damn - and Kilgrave knows it. It's why he had Thomas King come to her about Tony, it's why he chose Hope as his victim, and it's why he picked Malcolm to spy on her. He purposefully selected them because they would each hurt her on a different level, poke at her different flaws, prey on her different insecurities. He had her reveal things she'd never have divulged had she been in control, and now he's using them against her. It makes him feel even more inside her mind than before, and it only exacerbates the thrumming tension under her skin.

She turns back to the sink and spits out the toothpaste, only to watch the cockroach she flicked down the drain earlier crawl its way up again, refusing to die. Jessica cocks her head at it, at the redundancy of its attempt to survive when it has just given her another opportunity to kill it. The similarity doesn't go unnoticed. One literal cockroach, one sadistic prick she'd be happy to label a cockroach, both of them ignorant of the fact that she isn't going to hold back on this second attempt when they have made themselves so enticingly vulnerable.

Kilgrave knows her weakness, but now she knows his. It finally feels like she's reaching a level playing field, and it's a better rush than anything else she has ever experienced.

The cockroach crunches under her thumb and she grits her teeth, meeting her own gaze in the mirror. Maybe she's a piece of shit, maybe she has done too much bad to ever absolve herself of the darkness in her soul, but maybe there's some good she can do with the fucking curse that is her life. She can make it useful for something. For someone.

She moves through to her bedroom and starts to pull on some clothes, her thoughts drifting to how and where she might get her hands on some Sufentanil or Propofol. She remembers Tony's offer to help, his eagerness to lend his resources to her cause even though he doesn't fully appreciate what she's facing. If she shows up asking for powerful anesthetics, he's going to ask questions. Maybe she should have just explained everything when she saw him, or when he called her because an ambulance had been called to her apartment for someone and he asked if she was okay; but he is a part of a world that Jessica does not want to join, and she would likely trust him to do the right thing, but she couldn't say the same for the rest of his nerd crew or their pirate captain.

At least now that Kilgrave's deal is about to become publicly known and Hope's life is so clearly hanging on his incarceration, the people Jessica doesn't trust won't be able to sneak in and discreetly deal with everything without a care for Hope's life or reputation. She's not even certain those people wouldn't want to use Kilgrave, and that's something she'll never allow.

It just hadn't been worth the risk, telling Tony about it all. He can find out with the rest of New York, and she's not going to feel bad for keeping him in the dark for so long. She just hopes she can keep him at arm's length now that he'll be aware of exactly what kind of danger she's in.

Jessica pulls her tank top over her head as she wanders through her apartment, figuring she's as well doing more research since her mind is too busy planning and calculating to sleep. When she reaches out for the papers on her desk, a voice speaks up from behind her.

"I saw you."

Jessica sucks in a startled breath and whips around, her wet hair slapping quietly against her skin. Luke is leaning against a cabinet, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a carefully-guarded expression.

"Well, that's what happens when you break into someone's apartment when they're getting dressed," Jessica snarks, though the fight ebbs out of her by the end of her sentence as the flash of adrenaline eases.

"You tossed a man twice your size across the bar with one hand."

Jessica's chest tightens, anticipation crawling up her spine and keeping her back painfully straight. "Adrenaline kicked in."

"I saw you," Luke persists. "And you saw me."

"I don't know what I saw."

"Oh, you know. You've known for a while," Luke says coldly, standing up straight and uncrossing his arms.

Jessica can feel the quiet, subdued threat of danger rippling through the air towards her. She needs to placate him before things get out of hand, but what explanation can she give him without telling him everything? "You're wrong. That's not.." she falters, uncertain. "I just went there to fix things."

Luke reaches behind him and picks up a saw, the one discarded by the man Jessica accidentally injured earlier. Jessica watches him, shifting on her feet as the air in the room seizes. He turns the saw on and it whirs to life noisily, the sound aggravating Jessica's adrenaline. At this point, she really isn't sure whether he's about to come at her or not.

But then his free hand catches the hem of his shirt and lifts it up to expose his side, and he looks down to watch himself raise the saw towards his flesh. Jessica's stomach twists as his intentions become clear, her heart stuttering with panic and shock. She can hazard a guess as to the outcome of this surreal demonstration; but her every instinct is screaming at her to stop him because it looks like he's about to cut himself in half.

The noise the saw makes when it comes in contact with his skin has Jessica's expression contorting harshly. Sparks fly and Luke doesn't even flinch, but there's a fucking saw slicing against his side and Jessica's stomach is clenching and convulsing, her heart lodged in her throat. She can see him pressing it in harder against himself, and the noise intensifies as if the saw is struggling against the material. It sparks even more, creates smoke that twists away from the point of contact, and still Luke barely bats an eye.

Jessica can't stop herself from covering her mouth, both out of shock and out of fear that she's about to vomit her disbelief all over her floor. Luke seems to take that as a signal that he's proved his point enough and he shuts off the saw, pulling it away from his skin. Any ordinary human would have sliced through their skin and into the organs beneath, would be bleeding profusely and likely passed out if not dead in the middle of her fucking apartment, but not Luke.

Jessica glances at his stoic expression and moves forward slowly, frowning down at his side. There is absolutely nothing there - no friction burns, no indents, no gaping fucking wound. She reaches out and presses her palm against his skin; where it should be ripped flesh and blood, there is only heat and unblemished smoothness.

"You can't fix me," Luke says from above her head.

Jessica slowly lifts her gaze from his side, her mind still reeling, her heart still thumping in her throat, and meets his gaze through the tendrils of smoke.

"I'm unbreakable."

Jesus fucking Christ.

The heat of his skin under her fingertips is insane. His gaze is unwavering and intense, almost challenging, and a different kind of heat burns in her chest. Jessica has more strength than she can safely wield and has to consciously hold herself back to prevent grievous injury; but Luke is unbreakable. She can see it in his eyes that he's as curious as she is, wondering how that could improve what they already know was good. They would compliment each other even better.

She wants him. Fuck, does she want to see what the sex would be like with them both being their authentic selves.

But that thought seems to suck the heat right out of her. She lets her hand drop from his side and she takes a couple of steps backwards, breaking their gaze. The disengagement from the moment stirs an uncomfortable, guilt-ridden déjà vu in her stomach, because she had done something similar with Tony, too.

It's different, though. She can feel it in the air, in their dynamic, in the tension itself.

With Luke, it's a tension that she wants to give in to, but knows she can't. It's the tension of a relationship with someone who can match her physically, who she can worry less about damaging, who knows what it's like to have a secret in their skin, their body. There's a bond there, a kinship, a chemistry that she can't deny; but it's a life she can't have, not with him.

Her authentic self isn't simply sharing the secret of her powers, and some of that is because it isn't really a secret. She doesn't hide her powers, she's just quiet about them because she knows they could bring her trouble. Plus she loathes the memories of how she was forced to use them, and what they represented to her before that - what they still represent to Trish. Her authentic self is more than being open with her strength; it's uncovering just how dark and twisted it is inside her heart, her mind, and why.

And that's the reason the tension with Tony is different - because he uncovers a little more every time he looks at her, and it's alarmingly intimate having him steadily seeing further into her like that. The tension there is in two people recognising a kinship in self-loathing and trauma, in knowing there's a potential to tear each other down further, or heal together. It's a tension that she can't stop from building stronger after every interaction, and one that she doesn't want to give in to because she is terrified of being so seen and him caring for her anyway. She knows she doesn't deserve it, and she knows that she's far more likely to make his life worse than comfort him in any way.

It's best for everyone that she sticks to keeping them at arm's-length.

"We should talk about this, Jones."

Jessica feels her face scowl, her mouth twisting.

"What? You just gonna stand there glaring a hole in the wall after what I just showed you?"

"What d'you want me to do? Start a club?" she snarks.

There's something still smoldering in his eyes, but he sighs and crosses his arms. "I think you know what I wanna do, but I also think you're backing off so I'm not gonna go there. But we should at least talk."

Jessica licks her lips and shifts on her feet. "What's there to talk about?"

Luke watches her carefully. "How about how you materialised outta nowhere with your crew to fight off an alien army and then you faded back into the city like nothing happened?"

Jessica's hackles rise, her muscles seizing as if she's about to physically lash out at the inaccuracies in what he just said; but a couple of knocks sound from her door and she flinches, her head snapping towards the hallway.

"You expecting someone?" Luke asks, his arms uncrossing and expression sobering.

"Stay here," she mutters, and strides out of the room.

Her door is ajar, and bony white fingers are wrapped around the frame, slowly opening it. Her hands clench into fists, heart suddenly thundering in her chest, and she reaches out to rip the door from the fingers' grasp. Her other hand seizes a fistfull of the stranger's clothing to heave them off-balance and the trespasser lets out an undignified yelp of fright.

Jessica sighs harshly. "Jesus Christ, what d'you want?" she snaps.

The weird guy from upstairs with the psycho sister stares at her with wide eyes. "Robyn says you're too loud," he breathes.

The thought that he could have walked in on a different scene if Jessica had given in to the tension makes her lip curl. "That's rich." She releases him from her grip with a light push to his chest and he stumbles backwards a step, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Something about him just makes her skin crawl. "Tell her I'm not gonna take a complaint delivered by a grown man who has a diaper kink seriously."

The guy stares at her and says nothing.

"What, you want me to write it down for you or something?" she snaps. "Get outta here."

Just before she closes the door on him, he squeezes his face between the gap. "Are you in trouble?"

Jessica pushes his face out of the gap and closes the door, lips pursed and jaw clenched. When she turns around, Luke is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He quirks an eyebrow at her silently when she opens her mouth to say something, but there's no explanation to give.

"You hungry?" she winces.

Luke grins. "Sure. I know a good food truck not far from here."

"It's nice to grub out with a girl who likes to eat."

Jessica wipes her mouth and swallows. "Gotta balance out the whiskey."

Luke gives her a small smirk. "That's the diet people can follow to grow up as strong as you?"

Jessica allows a bitter kind of smirk, dropping his gaze for a moment. "So, just how unbreakable are you?" she asks.

Luke inhales and sits up straight. "On a scale of 'I don't know' to 'I'd rather not find out'?"

Jessica cocks her head at him, intrigued by his similar aversion to learning his furthest limits. "Say I stabbed you with this fork," she muses, nudging the unused utensil next to her food. "With all my considerable strength."

Luke quirks an eyebrow. "Depends on how considerable. You telling me you wanna stab me?"

Jessica shrugs a shoulder and eats some more.

"So, what else you do?" Luke asks, leaning forward onto his elbows. "Can you punch through a wall? Can you stop a moving car?"

Jessica takes a moment as memories go rushing by her - aliens and assholes and an innocent woman. "I'm a little rusty, but.." she shrugs again.

"Can you fly?" Luke asks, his voice quiet in subdued fascination.

Jessica wouldn't be so tolerant of a person without abilities asking her all these questions - but it's the first time for both of them, talking comfortably with someone like them, and she owes him this one-million times over. "It's more like jumping, and then falling," she admits. It's been a long time since it was anything graceful. She doubts it ever will be again. She doesn't really want it to be.

"Okay, there's you, me, your crew with the big green dude-"

"They're not my crew," Jessica cuts in, an edge to her voice.

Luke gives her a confused frown. "You were the one on TV, though, right? Fighting with them?"

Jessica's face scrunches briefly in aggravation. "The aliens blew up my building and I got pissed."

A grin slowly spreads across his face. "So, they were already out there and you just, what, tagged along?"

Jessica sends him a half-hearted glare and he raises his hands in mock-defense.

"Okay, alright. You're not an Avenger," he concedes, his voice light with restrained laughter. "Point is, do you think there's more of our kind out there?"

Jessica's face hardens and she turns away, whispers tracing across her neck.

"What?" Luke asks.

She shakes her head and pushes out of her seat. "Nothing," she lies. When she catches the gaze of the worker in the food truck, she asks, "Can I have a coffee?"

"You got it," the man nods, turning to fill a cup with the machine behind him.

Luke's gaze burns into her back and she feels the muscles in her neck and shoulders tensing sharply. Briefly, she considers how rude it'd be to just walk away.

But she collects her coffee and turns back to their little table.

"You know somebody else like us?" he asks carefully.

She can't fault him for his curiosity, but she also doesn't feel like she can just tell him - it's too close to revealing herself. "No. Not like us," she settles on, offering nothing more than that and hoping Luke won't push it.

She avoids his gaze, but she can tell he wants to ask. Maybe he'll soon be able to connect the dots with what's in the news, too. She'll need to make sure he doesn't try to involve himself either.

"Well, you're the first I've met," he says after a moment, and there's almost something grateful in his tone that makes her lip twitch into a small, sickened curl. "Were you born this way?"

"Nope. Accident," she replies. Then, before he can ask, "You?"

"Experiment," he answers, and just as quickly follows up with, "Does anybody else know about your abilities?"

Jessica files away the information, at least glad that he shares the reluctance to provide an explanation. "Couple. I'm not hiding but I'm not advertising," she says, lifting the cup of coffee to take a drink. She wishes she had whiskey instead.

"People find out, they either come at you with a noose or their hands out," Luke says. "I got no use for either."

Jessica's jaw clenches at the third option, of which Luke is thankfully ignorant. "So, what, you just don't use it?"

Luke sighs and takes a moment to think of his response. "I protect myself and what's mine. But that's it. Being a hero just puts a target on your back. I guess you know that."

"Yeah, I should've known better," she grunts into her cup.

"You've done the hero gig before?" he asks, with an amused quirk of his eyebrows.

"I gave it a shot once," she admits, settling back into her chair.

"Tell me there was a costume and you still got it," he grins.

Jessica allows a smile, thinking back to Trish and her excitement. It had been hard not to get caught up in it all, but the costume thing was where she drew the line. Jewel, what a stupid fucking name.

"It didn't work out," she tells him, the taste in her mouth turning bitter as the memories stretch on to the consequences of the gig.

"You still get points for doing good," Luke responds easily.

But what good had she done, really, in the long run? Maybe everyone would have been better off had she kept to herself. She can feel the exhaustion pulling at her mouth, at her frown, and wonders if he can see the guilt eating away at her. "Not near enough to cancel out the bad."

"The way I see it," Luke muses, reaching for his drink, "Most people got both going on. Just depends on which part wins that day."

She can't help but wonder how naïve a sentiment that is. How dangerous it is to consider it for herself. The whispers scitter through her hair. "Do you know any drug dealers?"

Luke frowns at the sudden change in subject. "You wanting something harder than whiskey?"

Jessica shakes her head. "Not for me."

Luke eyes her for a moment, shifting in his seat. "I own a bar in Hell's Kitchen," he replies finally, shrugging a shoulder. "What are you after?"

She licks her lips and leans on the table, trying to quell the hope warming her chest. "Sufentanil. It's used to knock people out for surgery."

She can see the curiosity in his eyes, but he doesn't ask. "Doesn't exactly sound like something you'd find on a street corner."

The warmth in her chest turns cold and bitter. "Worth a try," she sighs.

"Not to sound like the weird white dude at your door, but are you in some kind of trouble? Avengers got you caught up with someone you can't punch into unconsciousness?"

Jessica smiles a little. "They couldn't if they tried." When Luke continues to watch her, she feels herself sober up again. "Sometimes you just need an extra precaution."

She can see the cogs turning in his head, and wonders how close he might be to connecting the dots.

"Listen, I've got this job right now that's stirring up a lot of shit," she says, leaning back in her chair and watching him school his features to hide the disappointment. "I know you don't like drama, and you definitely wouldn't like this kind-"

"I'm a grown man, Jones. I can handle rejection."

Jessica sighs and looks across the table at him, at the kindness in his face and the sincerity in his eyes. He's a good man. Strong and smart and good.

He deserves the truth, and she's too much of a coward to give it to him.

"It's more complicated than that," she says quietly.

"You can put space down between us without trying to make it about me."

Jessica can't maintain the eye-contact any longer. "I'm not a good person to be around," she tells her coffee cup, feeling Luke's eyes on her face. "And it's gonna get worse soon. It's better for both of us to have that space."

Luke sighs through his nose and gives her a sad smile. "You know where to find me," he says, and he pushes out of his chair to leave.

"I'm sorry," she mutters as he turns away from her. He pauses, his head twisting to give her a sliver of a glimpse at his face, and then he walks away.

They're talking about Hope's story on the radio. They're talking about it on the street, in taxis, in bars and bodegas, on blogs and vlogs and every kind of social media out there. They're talking about Hope and her parents and they're talking about Kilgrave. They're talking about a story with the same beats as Jessica's. And they're tearing it apart.

Whether it's out of fear of letting someone like that exist in their awareness, or whether they are so ignorant and close-minded that they refuse to even consider the possibility, or whether it's just misogyny and victim-blaming at work the way it always fucking is, Jessica doesn't know. Whatever the reason, New York is talking about Hope and they are calling her a liar, insane, a murderer.

Jessica has never felt so exposed to the world. Every time she hears a new insult or accusation, her heart breaks for Hope, her rage flares at the injustice, and her mind creates whispers that echo the sentiments at her. Every nasty label slapped across Hope's story by idiot civilians gets threaded through Jessica's hair and wrapped around her ear in a quiet, deliberate, well-spoken whisper. He put Hope through the same things he put Jessica through; Hope's story is Jessica's story. Everything said about Hope is being said about Jessica, too.

New Yorkers are having no problem dismissing Hope's story and creating their own narrative, just because it makes more sense to them. They're more than eager to call her every nasty name in the book. If Jessica had come forward about what happened to her, she would have experienced the exact same thing.

The selfish part of her, the part that has kept her alive and safe since she regained her autonomy, is glad that she isn't the one undergoing this barrage of apathy and hatred. But it's a quiet voice under all of her guilt. If she had come forward, then, yes, she would have experienced everything Hope is, with even less chance of bringing Kilgrave to justice - nobody would have believed her and nobody would have fought for her; Trish would have tried, of course, but publicly siding with Jessica would have ruined her career. Jessica would have been alone and she would have been found guilty of the murder of Reeva Conners.

If she had been locked away in a prison, maybe Kilgrave would have never taken Hope, because what would the need be? He's doing this to get Jessica's attention, to make her find him, no-doubt so he can use her again. If Jessica had come forward after her experience and she had been imprisoned, Kilgrave would have probably just found a way to get her released so he could regain control of her. If she had spoken her story, Hope wouldn't have gone through this.

But she drowns the guilt in whiskey and bourbon. Her past is dark and twisted and full of mistakes that have cost lives; it's not a shock to add another. She did what she did, Hope was forced to do what she was forced to do and is now being attacked by the city of New York, and it means that Hope has Jessica in her corner, fighting to bring the truth to light, to bring Kilgrave to justice. And she's going to do it. She refuses to let him ruin another young woman's life. She has to put a stop to his horrors, even if it's draining the life from her to relive everything.

She wakes up slumped over her desk, her laptop still playing a radio station next to her head. Her phone is ringing next to her laptop and she answers it without looking at the caller ID, bringing it to her ear as she sits up to stretch out her back.

"Alias Investigations," she croaks, muting her laptop.

"It's me."

Jessica pauses, staring down at her desk, her shoulders slowly hunching. She brings the phone away from her ear to look at the screen, and sees Luke's name confirm the voice's words. She mouths a curse to herself and brings the phone back to her ear.

"Everything alright?" she asks, frowning.

"I'm fine," Luke answers, and then he's quiet for a beat. "Been hearing a lot about that girl from your case - the one the cops grilled me about." He pauses again. "The girl who shot her folks in your building, claimed some guy made her do it."

Jessica licks her lips and shifts uncomfortably in her chair. "Yeah, everybody's got a lot to say about it."

"I'm guessing this is the job that you were talking about - the one stirring up shit. I'm also guessing that you think she's telling the truth, and that this job is the reason you were asking for anaesthetics."

She leans back in the chair and lifts her free hand to press her fingers into her eyes, her face scrunching in on itself. She doesn't want to talk to him about this. She doesn't want to hear him dismiss Hope's - and thereby Jessica's - claims. She doesn't want that from him. Especially him.

"Maybe she's just nuts, Jones," Luke says. "You go into a bar any night of the week, you'll find some crazies arguing with the voices in their heads."

Jessica closes her eyes and bows her head. Not even Luke, who has abilities of his own, will entertain the possibility of someone like Kilgrave existing. It hollows out her chest, but she has an opportunity to gently and subtly try to encourage him to think differently about it - who knows if she'll ever work up the courage to tell him everything, but she can't pass up this opportunity to make him understand.

"The fact that I believe her," she says quietly. "That doesn't change your mind?"

"I believe that you believe it," he answers slowly.

Jessica tries not to get defensive. "Says the man with unbreakable skin," she retorts pointedly.

"You can see my skin. You can touch it. But you got no idea what my mind is thinking."

Jessica bites her tongue before she over-explains Kilgrave's powers to the point of revealing herself; but it's not that he reads minds - he just says shit and suddenly you want to do it. You need to.

If she told Luke that she knows Kilgrave, that she experienced the exact same thing, she's pretty certain he'd change his mind. And if she told Luke, he'd want her to talk, to open up; he'd want to help her. It would all lead to the truth coming out. He'd know.

"Goodbye, Luke."

She hangs up before he can reply.

Maybe it isn't fair that he didn't realise just how important that conversation was. That he didn't know Jessica was hanging so precariously on his every word, on every inflection in his tone. That he didn't know Jessica was substituting herself for Hope and imagining that Luke's words were in response to Jessica's defense against killing his wife.

The fact is, if Jessica had come forward, Luke would never have believed her. He would have blamed her for Reva's death and loathed her beyond comprehension. There's a chance he still would, if he found out now.

She pulls up her gallery on her phone and starts deleting all of her surveillance pictures of Luke. Her fingers move quickly but shakily, and her phone drops noisily to the table when she finishes and reaches for her laptop to purge the evidence there, too. She can feel her breath move sharply up and down her throat, too fast to feel like it's actually giving her oxygen, too shallow, too empty, empty, empty -

She pushes out of her chair and it scrapes loudly against the floor. Her living room is tilted at an angle, dark shadows stretching endlessly before her and reaching to pull her deeper. There's a breath on her neck, fingers ghosting across her skin, whispers pressed into the shell of her ear.

She stumbles to the wall, her hand slapping a dent in the dull paint when she tries to support herself. She doesn't think she's breathing. It doesn't feel like she is. But she can hear it, can't she? Or is that someone else breathing? Is it a memory or is it real?

She thinks for a second to call out for help, but her closest neighbour is Malcolm, and the paranoia is too much already. She's vulnerable. She's exposed and she doesn't know the extent of his work against her. She can't breathe. She's falling - or is the world falling from her?

"Main Street," she slurs, her tongue thick and her vision blurring. "Birch Street, Higgins Drive, Cobalt Lane," she rushes, her voice breaking, a sob choking her to the point of retching.

"Now, Jessica!"

She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to focus on her breathing, but her mind is whipping rapidly like a sheet in a hurricane from one fear to another and she can't concentrate-

"Jessica!"

She slides down the wall until she slumps on the floor, raking a hand through her hair while the other grabs at her chest.

"Jessica?"

"Main Street," she whispers, her eyelids squeezing tighter.

"Bump up the volume, maybe she's in a different room. Jessica, you there?"

It's not Kilgrave's voice - it's Tony's.

She opens her eyes and finds the room has straightened itself.

"Birch Street," she breathes.

"Jessica? I know you're in your apartment. Full disclosure, I hijacked a camera with a view into your living room. Just so someone would see if anyone came in to attack you or whatever. It's good for someone to have your back, you know?"

Jessica relaxes the hand in her hair and drops her other hand from her chest into her lap.

"Higgins Drive," she whispers.

"Yeah. It's technically not investigating, so you can't yell at me. But I get it if you're just ignoring me instead. You got a lot of shit to deal with right now. I don't wanna add to that. I never did. Anyway." He clears his throat. "I've not been investigating, but sometimes I watch shit on the TV, and it's, uh, it's kinda focusing on this one thing right now. This Hope thing."

"Cobalt Lane," she sighs, almost inaudibly. She takes a deep inhale, feeling the air pass down her throat and fill her lungs. She holds a hand in front of her, and her fingers don't shake.

"Listen, I know you don't trust me. You don't want me involved. I get it, alright? I really do. It's tough to let people in, especially when there's dangerous shit going on. But I just want you- I need you to know that I know how to keep an open mind. I'm a very open-minded person. I'm an inventor, right? I gotta have an open mind. So, just-" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "Just keep that in mind, alright? In case you change yours."

Jessica looks over at her desk, and the laptop shining a light that moves on her window and wall. She knows Tony's face is on the screen, looking into the darkness of her apartment. She wonders if his camera can see her crumpled on the floor.

"Okay. Good. Great. I hear most people sleep this time of night. Maybe you're asleep. Maybe you're not. I'm gonna try get some sleep. You can call me anytime, though. Alright. See you later, Jessica."

Jessica rubs at her face and figures she might as well try the same thing - maybe the latest panic attack will have drained her enough that she'll simply K.O. on her bed and sleep through til morning.

Her legs are a little unsteady when she gets to her feet, leaning a shoulder against the wall. She looks at the window behind her desk, thinking back to Tony's revelation about using a camera to keep an eye on her place. She expects it to make her feel more claustrophobic, with Malcolm on one side of her apartment and Tony's eyes on the other, never mind Kilgrave looming ominously in every other direction both in and out of her head.

But her chest, hollowed out by the conversation with Luke, echoes with the thump-thump of a heart warmed by an unfamiliar sense of comfort. Too exhausted to question and panic over the feeling, Jessica drags her body to her bedroom and collapses onto her mattress. She's asleep in seconds.

Review replies!

kenriot1214: hello friend! long time, no see! sorry about that. i'm glad you liked the last chapter, and i hope you enjoyed this one if you were patient enough to come back to the story after that wait!

Hearteyesmf: I'm so, so glad you're enjoying everything from Tony's side of things - this is such a unique relationship i think and i definitely want to make sure it all feels natural and right! sorry there wasn't as much Tony in this chapter, but there will definitely be more to come soon! hope you're well and hope you want to revisit this story after that wait (so, so sorry) - if you do, i hope you enjoyed this chapter!

EmyEnna: hahaha i'm a sucker for Tony too - he's just absolutely class. love him. i'm absolutely thrilled that you liked what was going on with Tony's head about everything! he's being so stronk respecting her boundaries. we love a man with self-restraint. hehe yeah Luke's definitely got a role to play and him and Tony meeting is inevitable! also i'm glad you enjoyed the subtlety of the romance - it's definitely a slooooow burner, especially with this shit going on, but there's always a little room for a little treat! thanks for the wonderful review and i'm sure you've had your exam since i've left it fkn months since the last update, but i hope it went well! i also hope you have the patience to come back to this story after the wait and i hope you enjoy the chapter xx