Jessica and I stopped on the sidewalk in front of the Italian restaurant Kilgrave had told us to meet him at this afternoon, Albert nervously coming to a halt behind us. He had been quiet for the last couple blocks of the walk; he'd finished a version of a vaccine against Kilgrave's virus and we were hoping like hell that it would work right now because it was all we had.
"I'm trembling," Albert muttered out beside me. "My God, I'm such a coward."
Jessica turned, gripping his arm and staring the man straight in the eye as she spoke. "You're not a coward," she told him firmly. "I want you to know right here and right now–you're not a coward."
Shaking, Albert nodded before slipping a hand in his pocket, pulling out a small bottle and uncapping it. He raised the vaccine prototype he'd been working on for the past couple days, pointing the bottle towards himself and dousing himself in the spray. My eyes scanned the building as I waited for him to finish but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. It just looked like a restaurant that wasn't open for service yet–quiet and empty.
Jessica darted up the stairwell in front of us the moment Albert capped the spray. He turned and shot me a nervous glance and I tried my best to give him a comforting smile. Slowly he followed after Jessica and I trailed behind.
We slipped inside the entrance doors, crossing through the front of the restaurant and making our way through the empty place. It was eerily quiet; I felt tense walking past the many rows of unoccupied tables, the chairs still upturned on the tops of them. Jessica was in the lead, taking us all the way to the back of the room, past a bar to what looked to be a private dining space. I saw her body stiffen as she entered the space before she slowly descended the steps. When the room came into view, I knew why she'd reacted as such.
There, hanging from one of the exposed pipes in the ceiling, were four nooses wrapped around the necks of two people I didn't recognize and two I did–Malcolm and Ruben's sister. They were standing with their feet just at the very edge of the bar counter. My palms began to sweat at the sight, anger immediately flaring in my chest.
"You can't say they don't deserve it," Kilgrave's voice called out from the opposite end of the room. "After how a few of them attacked you last night, Jessica."
My eyes turned in his direction, glaring menacingly at him as he shoveled pasta in his mouth as if he was having an ordinary lunch. Beside him sat Hope, looking exhausted and ignoring the wine and pasta in front of her. When Kilgrave spotted me behind Jessica he smiled warmly.
"Little dove, I wondered if you'd be tagging along," he said in delight. "You know I thought about paying you a visit last night but I…" he paused, frowning as his thought trailed off. My brow rose and I fought back a smug smile as he shook the thought from his head.
"I brought you Albert," Jessica cut in, her voice firm. "Now let them all go."
I could practically feel Albert shaking nervously beside me, staring across the room at his son. Kilgrave casually placed his fork back onto his plate, chewing his food as he casually leaned back in his chair.
"Step forward," he called to the four on the bar.
They all shuffled forward, their feet even closer to the edge now. My eyes widened and I stepped towards Kilgrave, fury growing inside of me. "Stop it!" I shouted.
Kilgrave's lip twitched upwards at the corner, a glint shining in his eye as he spoke. "Don't bark orders at me, little dove." He nodded his head towards me, hands clasping in front of himself. "Go on now, say you're sorry."
My teeth grit at his words; how I wished I could cross the distance and pummel his face into the cement of the restaurant floor. But I couldn't risk pissing him off, not with Hope sitting so close beside him and the four others about to strangle themselves on the bar. I needed to reel my anger back and focus.
"I'm sorry," I ground out, swallowing my pride.
He stared at me for a moment through narrowed eyes. "About tricking me? Leaving me in that cell?" he prodded.
My hands curled into fists at my sides as I fought to remain calm. "Yes. All of it," I forced myself to say.
He scrutinized me for a long while, silence filling the room as he considered my apology. After a moment, he picked his fork back up, glancing behind us to the four on the bar counter and commanding them to stay. He took another bite of food before sitting back in his chair, leisurely chewing as he watched us stand uncomfortably in front of him.
"See?" he said after a moment, eyes darting between Jessica and myself. "I still have all of the control. Doesn't matter if I can't control the pair of you."
"Kill him now ," Hope pleaded, her eyes darting between Jessica and myself.
"We had a deal," Jessica reminded Kilgrave sharply.
He tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, intentionally reveling in the power he had and drawing out the moment. He smiled lightly at me before his attention shifted to Hope beside him.
"'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here'," he quoted suddenly, leaning towards the girl as he told her, "Those are the words on the doorway to Hell."
"Kill him or he's going to keep hurting people!" Hope shouted desperately at us, ignoring the man beside her.
"Oh, neither of them will ever kill me," Kilgrave assured her. "You see Jessica, despite her calloused, hard-bitten–and frankly poorly styled–exterior, at her core she's still hoping beyond hope that she might just be a hero after all." His eyes slid over towards me, a slightly affectionate look to his gaze. "And now my little dove there, well, she won't kill me because deep down she cares. I saved her from a terrible, terrible situation, you know. And as much as she seems to despise me…she's indebted to me."
My jaw clenched at his words, my teeth grinding against each other as the burning rage flared in my chest. What he'd done last night was still very fresh in my memory as I stared him down from across the room. He'd come after Foggy, Karen, and Matt; he had toyed with them, threatened them. The part of me currently seething in rage and fury wanted him bleeding on the floor–but I wasn't going to kill him.
No, I had other plans.
"Father, come here," Kilgrave commanded after a moment, waving the man forward.
Albert hesitated, exchanging a look with Jessica and myself. Slowly, his feet started to shuffle forward. I felt my heart sink as he began to apologize; the vaccine hadn't worked. He was still susceptible to Kilgrave's commands.
"Look at you trembling there," Kilgrave pointed out as his father stopped beside him. "Still spineless, I see." He rose to his feet, roughly pulling his father into an embrace as he muttered, "It's just you and me now, dad."
Hope suddenly sprung to her feet, grabbing the empty wine glass in front of her and smashing it against the table. The glass shattered loudly, the broken stem still in her hand. Kilgrave turned at the sound, rolling his eyes.
"You can't kill me easily, girl," he told her.
Hope's gaze slowly turned towards us, her expression set firm. "But they can," she said.
"What're you doing?" Jessica called out.
Hope jammed the broken stem of the wine glass into her neck, a pained scream coming from her as she did. Her eyes went wide as blood spurted down her neck and I felt my stomach twist at the sight. Jessica made to run forward but Kilgrave immediately commanded the others on the bar to step forward. My head darted behind me just as all four people dropped off, effectively beginning to strangle themselves on the nooses tied around their necks. Hope fell to the floor by the table, gasping and sputtering, as Kilgrave grabbed his father and turned to leave.
Jessica darted on top of the bar, jumping up to grab onto the pipe and tugging hard, trying to pull it down. If she was focused on them, I could focus elsewhere.
I couldn't save Hope, I knew that immediately. My abilities wouldn't be able to heal a cut that deep through an important artery. But I could focus on him …
It was getting easier now, switching on my abilities. The vibration behind my eyes was instant, but I could feel the strain from what exertion I'd had last night. My right hand flew up and I mentally pulled against Kilgrave's arm, effectively stopping him from exiting through the door with his father. He paused, frowning and turning back over his shoulder to look at me–his eyes widened at the sight.
"I don't think you want to hurt me, Wraith," he called out.
I pulled him towards me roughly and he stumbled back a few feet. I could tell I was weak and that my hold on him was nothing like it had been last night when he'd attacked Matt, Karen, and Foggy, though.
"No, you're right," I told him, feeling the trickle of blood beginning to flow from my nose already. "I don't want to hurt you." My mouth twisted into a sneer as I said, "I want to heal you."
His frown deepened for the briefest second before realization struck him. True fear fell across his face as he stared back at me.
"You can't…" he said, voice wavering.
My eyes narrowed at him. "Let's find out, shall we?"
I heard the collapse of the pipe behind me; a loud clatter as everyone fell to the ground and gasped for air. As Jessica checked on everyone, I closed my eyes, trying to keep my hold on a struggling Kilgrave.
Trying to locate the virus inside of him from a distance was going to be difficult, especially since I was weakened and was also trying to hold him still. My mind was searching, trying to force its way into his so I could locate the virus in his brain stem. I wish I knew what I'd done last night to break into his mind so easily.
"Don't you move!" I heard Kilgrave shout through my strained concentration on him. "I can still make them kill each other! You stay there!"
There was a tight pressure building behind my eyes with the effort; I was so close to getting inside his mind. I just needed to hold him still a little longer; I needed to push just a little more, I needed just a bit more time.
"You're weak, Wraith!" he taunted with a laugh. "Can't keep me here much longer!"
My breathing was coming in hard, shallow pants as I tried to hold him still, but his mind was beginning to push me out–I was losing my way in. I wasn't as strong as whatever had happened to me last night and the realization of that pained me. As a strangled gasp left me, he slipped just enough out of my mental grip to bolt out the door with his father. I fell to the floor, panting heavily as Jessica raced out after him. I could hear the panic behind me erupt but I couldn't focus.
I'd almost had him. Somehow I had overpowered him last night, whether it was because of my fear or force of sheer will, I didn't know. But maybe if I hadn't been weakened from the night before, and so tired from a poor night's sleep, I'd have had him.
That thought had me slamming a fist hard onto the floor in rage, my knuckles stinging at the contact. If only I'd just been stronger I could have finished this.
Jessica's boots appeared in my line of sight. Slowly, I looked up at her. She shook her head silently, a grim expression on her face.
"They got away," she whispered.
After spending the past hour and a half dealing with the police, making up a story about Jessica calling her friends together for a celebration at her favorite restaurant and having her previous client, Hope, kill herself from grief to cover up the real and not as believable story of what actually happened–along with some story about me getting terrible nose bleeds to make up for the amount of blood on myself–we were sitting in Trish's car. I felt half dead thrown across the back seat as Jessica sat up front.
"I'm going to take you both home," Trish said when Jessica had finished filling her up to speed on what had happened.
"How about Riverbank Medical Center?" Jess asked from the front seat.
My brows creased together at her strange suggestion. I sat up slowly, a hand to my head where an intense headache was beginning. I watched as Trish glanced at me in the rearview mirror, a soft smile on her face.
"Right, you both could probably use some medical attention," she agreed. She rubbed a hand over her eyes as she said, "But Metro General is closer. I can take you both there."
Jessica flipped her phone towards Trish and I, showing us something on a strange app she had on her phone. "Riverbank's morgue just got a John Doe," she explained simply, her eyes darting between Trish and I.
It took my brain a moment before her meaning dawned on me. Trish, on the other hand, was staring at Jessica with a questioning look.
"Albert," was all I said.
I watched Trish's face fall as she let out a low sigh. She nodded her head as she started up her car. "Right, someone should be there to help put him to rest," she responded.
"Screw that," Jessica snapped. "I'm looking for leads. Where he was found, how it was done."
"Anything to help us figure out where Kilgrave was and where to find him next?" I asked her, picking up on her meaning.
She glanced over her shoulder before nodding. "Yes, exactly that. With Hope dead…we don't need him alive anymore. We don't even need proof. We just need to stop him."
Trish frowned deeply, turning in her seat towards Jessica. She took in her friend's hardened gaze, a look of worry on her face. "So you're just going to what, kill him now?" she asked.
"Whatever it takes," Jessica muttered.
Trish glanced back over her shoulder at me. She studied me for a moment before one of her perfectly shaped brows rose. "And you're on board with this?" she asked curiously.
My eyes darted down towards my feet as I continued to rub the spot on my temple that was aching. I shrugged lightly. "My hope is to eliminate the virus, make him powerless," I answered. "But…if I can't, or it doesn't work…I don't know."
"Alright, well," Trish said with a huff, turning around in her seat and taking the car out of park, "we're going to stop at Jessica's first. Unless you're both auditioning for a spot in the morgue, you should probably get cleaned up." Her eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror for a moment. "You can probably borrow one of Jess' shirts so you look less like a bystander at a murder scene."
As she pulled out onto the street, I glanced down at myself. Once again my shirt was soaked in an inordinate amount of fresh blood. How much blood loss from using my powers was going to be too much? I'd had issues in the past when the doctors at The Facility would push me too hard–I'd get migraines and bloody noses–but they usually gave me some rest before pushing me again. And I'd never experienced what had happened to me last night. Both of my eyes were bright red this morning from bursting the blood vessels in them last night when I had been straining so hard to use my abilities. It had been an unsettling sight when I finally looked in a mirror, to say the least.
Part of me began to wonder what Kilgrave had meant last night, when he'd said I was supposed to be more powerful than I was. What did he know about me and what they'd done to me? I had never tried to ask when he'd freed me; I was just so grateful to be out of The Facility and out of my cage, no longer being tortured or poked and prodded with needles, to actually want to ask. But I would be lying if I said Karen wasn't right–there was a part of me that wanted to know. I wanted to know what they'd injected me with, why they'd chosen me specifically, and what it was I was supposed to be capable of.
Those are dangerous questions , I told myself. Dangerous questions that might lead me to dangerous places for terrifying answers…
After what I'd done last night though, there was a part of me begging to go searching.
I'll never be normal , I told myself. Maybe I should find out why?
When Trish stopped in front of Jessica's building, it was almost two in the afternoon. She parked and said she'd wait for us in the car while we cleaned ourselves up. In a hurry, I followed Jess up to her apartment.
Once inside, we both cramped together in her single bathroom, side by side at the sink scrubbing blood off of ourselves. I was soaked in my own blood while Jess was cleaning Hope's blood off of herself. Neither of us spoke after the morning we'd had. We were both too tired physically, mentally, and emotionally.
She disappeared from the bathroom as I focused on scrubbing blood from my neck; I heard her just over in her bedroom, throwing open the closet and flinging hangers around. A few minutes later she stepped back into the bathroom, wordlessly holding out a long sleeve black top. I nodded quietly in thanks before slipping out of my blood soaked shirt and pulling on the clean one. It was a bit tight but it was clean and it was warm enough under my jacket.
"Let's go," she said, turning on her heel and heading out.
I followed after her to the elevator, feeling my phone vibrating in my pocket. I slipped it out and glanced at the screen, frowning slightly when I saw Matt's name across it. My chest ached as I hit the ignore button and slid it back into my pocket. Jessica continued to remain silent as we got onto the elevator and rode down to the lobby.
It was nearing eleven at night as we walked back to Trish's parked car. The temperature had dropped significantly over the past couple of hours and I was freezing in my leather jacket with my hands stuffed into the pockets. Each exhale of our breaths mingled puffs of steam together as we walked.
After I had regaled the pair with what had happened at Matt's Thanksgiving last night with Kilgrave, and what I'd done and how it had worn me down, we had spent the past almost nine hours searching just over half of the morgues in New York City looking for John Doe's. Sometimes we'd have to double back when a new body would show up on Jessica's police scanner app. None of them had been Albert.
Trying to get into each morgue had been interesting; a few times Trish was able to use her celebrity pull one way or another–a bribe for a meal at a restaurant, a lie about working on a story for her show. Sometimes Jessica would just break in through a window or a door while Trish and I distracted a worker. On a couple of occasions I had grudgingly compelled some workers who otherwise wouldn't budge to let us in. I hadn't been thrilled to use my powers like he did, but I was doing it to find and eventually stop him.
Matt had also called me a second time about four hours ago. We still hadn't spoken since last night when I'd told him to keep his distance from me for a bit. It pained me to hit the ignore button again on him, but I needed to keep him safe. He needed to stay away from me.
"If we can just get a network of morgue staffers to keep an eye out for an older John Doe, maybe we'll get lucky," Jessica said as we neared Trish's car.
"Well, it's proactive," Trish told her as she headed to the driver's side. "But, if I'm being honest I think we're just grasping at straws here."
Jessica shook her head adamantly. "I need him dead, Trish. I can't let him just keep throwing innocent people at me and falling for it." She shook her head again as I frowned at her words. "Not anymore. Hope died to teach me that lesson."
"Jess, I don't think that's what she meant," I told her.
I watched as she hesitated, staring at her reflection in the passenger door window. She was chewing on her lip nervously before she stepped back from the car. Trish exhaled deeply, shooting me an exasperated look. I shrugged, shaking my head–I had no idea what she was up to.
"Where are you going?" Trish called after her.
"There's another morgue ten blocks away," she shot back, not stopping.
Trish leaned against the driver's side door, calling after Jessica tiredly, "After twenty-four hours with no sleep your short-term memory goes to hell."
Jessica stopped mid-step, turning around and shooting Trish a look. "I was unconscious last night so that counts," she snapped back.
"After forty-eight hours there's blurred vision, impaired judgment," Trish continued.
"I'm fine," Jess urged.
Trish let out a sigh, running a hand down her face. "I'm not," she told us. Her head nodded towards me as she said, "And I think Olivia is pretty beat after what she's been through. We should go home. Rest. Try again tomorrow morning."
Jessica glanced away, her eyes staring down the empty street for a moment. Eventually she turned back to Trish. "Yeah, you're right," she said slowly. "I'm just going to walk home."
Trish glanced at me, one of her eyebrows quirked up in a questioning look.
I sighed, stuffing my hands back into my jacket pocket. "I'll go with her," I told her. "Make sure she gets home alright."
Trish nodded, mumbling a thanks before opening up her door and getting inside. I hurried to catch up to Jessica, falling in step beside her. She didn't even glance my way.
"You're going to the morgue," I said–it wasn't a question.
"Yeah," she answered.
We walked in silence for the next ten blocks. Trish had been right, I was exhausted and freezing and I really needed sleep, but I wasn't about to let Jessica wander the streets alone looking for Kilgrave. But I had a feeling we were going to be in for a very long night.
It was almost four in the morning when Jessica and I finally started walking back to Hell's Kitchen. We were only a few blocks over, having hit a morgue not too far away first. We'd managed to hit up three more after Trish had gone home, taking a few taxis and walking some of the way. None of them had turned up Albert or any clues as to where Kilgrave might be.
I was freezing, shivering hard in my leather jacket, and beyond exhausted by the time she finally agreed to take a few hours of a break. She'd only agreed because I said I wouldn't leave her until she went home, but she wanted me to go home and rest so I'd have more strength to fight Kilgrave when we hopefully found him. So, eventually she caved, agreeing to stop for the night in order to get me to go home and sleep.
My phone began to vibrate in my pocket again as we walked and I frowned. Slowly, I pulled a hand out of my jacket pocket and slid the phone out of my back pocket. Matt's name was on my screen again and I winced at the sight of it. I bit my lip, finger hovering over the ignore button before eventually pushing it and sliding the phone back.
"Worried boyfriend?" Jessica asked suddenly.
My eyes darted towards her; she hadn't spoken much the entire time we'd been searching morgues. She kept her hands in her jacket pockets as well, her eyes focused straight ahead as we walked. Her boots pounded heavily against the pavement as she walked.
"Something like that," I answered her awkwardly.
"He the one who keeps calling and you keep ignoring?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested.
I cleared my throat. "Yeah," I told her. "He was–was there last night. And…one other time," I admitted. "Kilgrave's controlled him twice now, tried to–to make him cut out his heart. After last night I just…I told him to stay away. For now, at least." I shrugged lightly, my eyes darting down to my feet as we walked. "Don't know if he's going to be interested in me much after all of this with how I'm avoiding him. Hurting him."
There was silence between us again, and for a minute I figured she was done talking. In the time I'd known her I'd known Jess wasn't much for chatting or having heart to hearts. But eventually she glanced over at me, catching my eye.
"It's better that way," she told me. "Safer. Best thing we can do is keep the ones we care about away from us for now."
I nodded, eyes returning to the sidewalk in front of me. "Yeah, I know," I agreed in a small voice.
She exhaled roughly before continuing, surprising me with her sudden candidness.
"I had someone, briefly," she told me quietly. "Luke. Fortunately for me he hates me now. Not that hard to keep him safe from Kilgrave."
My eyes studied her from my peripheral vision; she was staring straight ahead again with a grim look on her face. But I could see pain in her eyes.
"What happened?" I asked gently.
I wasn't sure what response I would get from Jessica at that question–silence, screaming, a punch to the face? Honestly any of those would have been a normal response for her. Instead, she surprised me.
"I killed his wife," she admitted, her voice small. She swallowed hard, tensing as she walked. "Kilgrave made me do it. She'd had the location of something he wanted dug up and then afterwards…he made me kill her. I…I think it was her death that helped me break whatever control he had over me."
I walked in silence, listening intently as she spoke. She had never shared anything so personal with me before.
"Guilt ate me alive for awhile," she continued after a moment. "I followed him for awhile. He works at a bar nearby your place, actually. Lives above it. Would bring random women up to sleep with often. Once he…once he stopped crying so often." She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. "Eventually we bumped into each other–I wasn't trying to, it just happened. And then somehow we…slept together. I didn't plan that. And then…we started to get to know each other." She glanced at me briefly, a faint smile on her face as she said, "He's like us. Different. His skin is impenetrable or whatever."
My eyebrows shot high up on my forehead. "There's more like us?" I asked her quickly. "With abilities?"
She shrugged. "He's the only other one I know about."
She fell into silence again. I chewed my lip, curious. "So what happened?" I asked her hesitantly.
"I told him the truth," she admitted. "Now he's repulsed by my existence." She shrugged lightly, glancing up and stopping in front of her building. "But it keeps him safe at least. He won't be on Kilgrave's radar if he stays far away from me."
I paused beside her, smiling sadly. "I'm sorry," I told her.
She shook her head, eyes darting away as she shrugged. "Whatever. I'll let you know if one of the morgues gets back to me with something."
I nodded slowly and watched as she abruptly turned and headed into the lobby. I exhaled, watching the door close behind her before turning in the direction towards my apartment building. I had a few blocks to walk in the cold before I even got back.
I began walking again, keeping my head ducked down and my hands shoved deep into my jacket pockets as I went. My nose felt like it was about to fall off from the chill and without Jessica's presence to distract me, I noticed I'd been shivering pretty violently from the cold.
Just four more blocks. It's not that far.
I pushed on, feeling the exhaustion wearing on me. If it wasn't for the cold air I'd have probably been sleepwalking home by now.
I hadn't been paying much attention to my surroundings as I walked; the sidewalks and streets were pretty dead at this hour in Hell's Kitchen, so I was startled when a shadow suddenly appeared out of the alley just a few feet in front of me. I jumped backwards, eyes wide as my heart sped up.
"It's just me," the shadow said.
The Devil of Hell's Kitchen partially stepped out of the alley, illuminated halfway in the yellow light from the above streetlight. I clasped a hand over my racing heart, trying to calm down.
"What the hell?" I shot at him.
"You weren't answering your phone," he told me.
I shook my head at him. "I told you to keep your distance from me for now," I chided.
He took another step closer and I could see the deep frown on his mouth, the only part of his face that wasn't covered in the black fabric. "It's four in the morning and you weren't home," he shot back. "You've been missing from your apartment all day. Not answering your phone. I–I was worried."
I heard the hitch of emotion in his voice and my expression softened. I hadn't thought how that would look to him, how it might make him worry that I'd disappeared all day, especially after last night.
"I'm sorry," I told him softly. "I didn't think about how it would look to you." I exhaled, pulling a hand from my pocket and raking it tiredly through my hair. "It's just…been a very long day."
He crossed the distance between us, standing just before me in his dark outfit. I could see the definition of every muscle on his arms and chest. For a moment I was tempted to close the small gap and just let his strong body envelope me in comfort and safety.
"I'll follow you back home," he told me. "Make sure you get back safely."
"I'll be fine–"
He tensed up, straightening and towering over me, all power and muscle trying to overpower my rejection to his offer. "I'm following you back home," he stated firmly, his voice deep and gravely–the Devil's voice.
I eyed him for a moment, taking in the square of his broad shoulders and the firm set of his jaw and his mouth. He would follow me whether I said yes or no.
Relenting, I sighed with a nod. "Okay," I told him softly.
He turned swiftly, disappearing back into the shadowed alley before climbing up a fire escape, the metal creaking under his weight. I spotted him up on the rooftop, standing there with his head tilted down towards me as he crouched, waiting for me to start walking. A small smile twitched up the corner of my lip at the sight before I started walking back to our building; Matt darted out of sight. I knew he was nearby though, following my movements, and that thought comforted me.