Chapter Three

Part I

Leaving for work I see Birch Street, Higgins Drive, Cobalt Lane. I turn on the latter and wait at the light. The first time it happened I was stunned. I parked at the light, I felt almost blocked, stuck. It was like I was in her mind, being led by her and then kept. I had to shake it off.

Now when it happens I think of her sitting next to me in the passenger seat and seeing it too. To her it's a safe place, that house, these streets. Even after Kilgrave tried his best to corrupt it, it's still her safe place, which means her therapy, the little that she agreed to go through, actually worked. It only makes sense to turn the pretty house into an actual headquarters, Alias Investigations, an actual fortress. Jessica left that seedy apartment building where so much loss took place. That place was never really her. At least I hope it wasn't. She sees herself one way and I see her another. She wants to be a shadow but she's a hero. She's always made a difference, always.

It's dark when I leave in the mornings but nothing can beat the days where I wake-up and see that Jess actually stayed with me, actually slept through the night.

I kissed her cheek and then her lips, lingering in her, that familiar taste of her kiss, sweet poison on my tongue. It was so tempting to just sleep, and just hold her, just a little bit more. But I have a day-job and it demands my time. Plus, as soon as she woke anyway she'd be up and out of sight, I knew her well, she'd want to be anywhere else pretending we didn't just kiss again or claw at each other's skin and clothes wishing for better lives and more time for just us.

Part 2

Trish Talk was mostly about the political debate. As an educated woman it was hard for me to even have a debate while knowing how little the people actually get to decide when it comes to all that. At one point Jess called in just to tease me. She must've been listening. She must've known I was already annoyed.

She pretended to be Virginia Miller, a young republican woman just out of college, completely obsessed with Donald Trump and ALL FOR his candidacy. It was hard not to laugh. Often she fucks with my talk show and often I nearly crack. She knows my buttons and she loves to push them, she relishes it.

I couldn't wait for the show to be over. I wanted to kick her ass, at least scold her.

When I called though she was already back to being stoic Jess, professional Jess.

"Hey, I'm with Jeri, call you soon."

That was all she said. Then the line went dead.

If there was one thing I hated it was being treated like I wasn't important when I knew that I was.

In a lot of ways, Jess and I would always be those little girls, so different, so busy, so separate.

Part 3

I went home to my apartment for lack of a better place to go. Taking the elevator up felt familiar yet cold. For the longest time this apartment had been ours, mine and hers. Coming back to it now meant remembering the person I had to build when she was away. Not out of fear but out of loneliness and frustration. I never lacked people in my life. The only person I could ever lack was her and she knew. Just another thing we never talked about. Like her family and my mother.

I let myself in, remembering all the things that had happened inside the "safe" walls. Even after everything I felt ready to take on anything that could be on the other side.

Still, rounding the corners, I remembered Simpson and reached for the gun concealed in my bag like a practiced cop would do just to clear the area and deem it safe. I was more worried about the supernatural than the natural. I could take Simpson when he wasn't on those super-soldier pills. I could take a person under mind control when they were void of super strength.

The gun in my hand wasn't Simpson's but it reminded me of him. He'd been sweet, misguided. He'd been a fabulous waste of time. Nothing less nothing more. Our whole relationship stemmed from my boredom and curiosity. I wanted to take him on, physically. I wanted to test my skills, really test them.

It was stupid. I knew it was. But I needed to play with him.

I hadn't anticipated the pills. But they explained a lot now. Looking back on it now I can only think of what a good lay he was. He let me use him to take my mind off of Jess.

I got to my training room and swerved around the doorway. I lowered my Glock and looked down at it sardonically. Who was I kidding? I would always prefer things to be hand-to-hand. Watching Jessica fight was so invigorating. It did things to me. Woke me up and made me to feel strong.

I put the gun back in its holster and stripped my jacket off my body.

Without thinking I flew across the room and threw a kick at the training bag, knocking it hard and landing on my feet.

I felt myself pant.

I felt myself alone.

I swung my body around and landed a hard punch with the back of my hand on the center of the bag to remind it not to see me as weak. I was anything but that. I might not be as strong as Jessica but I could take down a man, defend myself. Fighting alongside a superhero wasn't exactly easy.

My phone rang in my pocket. Surprised at myself, I jumped and clutched my chest before remembering that it was just a phone and nothing else, nothing threatening.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the phone, checking the display. It wasn't a number I recognized. Then again, sometimes Jessica called me from numbers other than her cell when it was necessary.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice giving away that I had just attacked something. I immediately wished I hadn't answered.

The voice on the other end of the line crackled with the reverb of electronic distortion, snapping me out of my thoughts. "We are the Collective. If the girl's parents want their daughter back you're going to do exactly what we say."

"What?! Who the hell are you?"

The voice came back over the line, more impatient. I could tell even through the weird static.

"We will call you in exactly twelve hours with instructions on what to say on your show. We know Jessica Jones is looking for the girl and if you both know what's good for you. You'll do what we want."

The line went dead and I pulled the phone away from my face, staring at it. "What the fuck," I whispered.