Dear, Trish

If you're reading this, then I'm dead.

Or something worse happened to me that I can't tell you this myself.

I kept something from you, after, Ki-him I didn't just come home. I went somewhere to find someone to help me to, give me answers.

I found a woman.

Her name was Angie.

"Hey, is that him?" Mal asked, under her breath, looking at the house across from theirs. Amy followed her gaze, making sure to keep walking, to not draw attention that they were staring.

The street was normal, despite the new arrival of the moving truck for the second time that week. The movers were going up and down into the house. A man, brown haired with a slight stubble walking out.

"Purple suit guy?" Mal added, pausing her bicycle-wheeling. "Don't stop and don't stare that's creepy." Amy chided lightly. "I think so."

"Hmm." Mal hummed. "Should we be worried?"

Mal was given rules to watch out for Amy since she arrived. The girls were home-schooled, and Mal often only went out by herself, Amy staying inside most of the time. That being said, she often wasn't versed in things that her parents didn't tell her.

"I feel like that's something I should be asking you." Amy said, stopping in front of her, brushing some of her hair behind her ear, the sun making her dark locks look purple in the cool sunlight. "Did Willa or Max tell you anything about a new person moving in?"

Mal shook her head, before ducking her head down. "Crap, I think he saw me. Act natural."

"Yes, because I'm the one acting weird." Amy mumbled.

Mal glancing over her shoulder, Amy looking at the house. The man looked at them, Mal glancing unsurely at Amy, giving her a 'what-should-we-do?'

The man raised a hand in greeting.

Amy giving him a small wave back, before walking back to the house, wheeling her bic with her. "Clever." Mal whispered.

"Act natural." Amy replied smoothly, giving her a wink, giggling. Mal chuckled. "Come on," she said, slinging a hand on Amy's shoulder. "Let's head inside."

Angie met him when she was young.

Straight out of college, bright future, and a very special ability that set her apart from everybody else.

She was perfect.

I don't think she was the first, but I know she lasted the longest. Maybe because he loved her, maybe because she was someone like him, like me. I'd never know. They bought a house, got neighbors and made friends. She had a life with him.

But of course, in time she knew her mind wasn't her own. She was strong, stronger than me. She fought him and then, one night, she ran. She didn't know what she was running with.

"Ames," Mal called jogging up the stairs, opening her door. "You want noodles or pasta?"

"Isn't that almost the same thing?" Amy asked, setting down her laptop. Mal shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Noodles." Amy said, adjusting her inhibitor bracelet. "Least likely thing to set the kitchen on fire."

"Rude," Mal said, throwing a pillow at her. Amy dodged it, pausing. "Hey, come see this."

Mal got up, peeking through the slit of the curtains. "That's Jess, you can see that's Jess can't you?" Amy said, watching the dark-haired woman exit the cab, leather jacket and a duffle bag over the shoulder.

"Yeah. What's she-"

Jessica turned around, looking at them, glasses over her eyes. A figure, the man from before walking up to her on the driveway.

The two ducked. "What is she doing here?" Mal whispered. "You don't think-"

Amy shrugged. "No, I don't know what's she doing, but, if we were in danger. She'd tell us."

She isolated herself.

Lived in the middle of nowhere and she raised her daughter.

Her name was Amelia, more commonly known as Amy.

In the beginning, everything was fine, Amy was normal. Healthy, happy, yeah, she was a little strange, but given her mother that was bound to happen.

Everything was perfect.

Until she started talking.

It started small, stupid things that didn't seem odd at first. But after a while, Angie knew, her daughter wasn't as perfect as she wanted her to be. That she had the same abilities as not one, but both of her parents.

Of course, it all went to shit from there.

"You think she's okay?" Mal asked over the noise of the cartoon. Amy twirled her slightly dry noodled in her fork.

"Yes. She's Jessica Jones. She can handle anything." Amy said, touching the inhibitor bracelet lightly, the slight jab of electricity running though her.

"Don't' worry." Amy said, giving Mal a smile. "I'm sure, we'll be fine."

While I won't get into Angie somewhat questionable parenting skills, two good things came out of it.

1. Angie had manged to find a way for her daughter to be normal, as normal as she could get.

2. She raised a pretty good kid.

Unfortunately, Angie's mind voodoo and scientist crap had made her sick. Very sick.

She died a few weeks after I talked to her. Asked me to do one thing for her. Look out for her daughter, Amy.

I wanted to say no, but-I didn't.

Truth be told.

I got attached.

I found a place. A home, a family for her. To stay, grow up. Try a live, a normal life. I vetted the family, informed her 'parents', got her another birth certificate, the whole shebang.

I have a phone, which I check in on her, every once in a while. I put her in the safest place I know, a place he wouldn't even dream of looking in.

The plan was to keep her existence a secret. From everyone, most importantly from him.

"Anything?" Mal asked from the kitchen where she was burning some scrambled eggs.

"Their eating breakfast. Outside." Amy reported from the window. "Pancakes I think. Oh, no, Mrs De Luca's going over."

"Now, I really feel bad for her." Mal said dryly. "I dunno, I'm think I might take Mrs De Luca over those eggs." Amy quipped, drawing back from the window. Mal scoffed. "Rude."

"What's rude is the pain you continue to inflict on them." Amy replied, pointing to the eggs that Mal was trying to smash and separate with her fork.

"Come on," Mal whined, picking up a few with her fork, stuffing them into her mouth. "They don't look great but they taste-"

"Disgusting and inedible, apparently." Amy said, as Mal screwed up her face in distaste.

"Alright," Mal said, throwing the eggs into the bin. "You're right."

"Obviously," Amy said, handing Mal the other bowl of cereal she had sneaked behind the curtain, when she started her spying.

Mal took it, taking a few large spoonfill that made her mouth look like a chipmuck turning on the TV, displaying live news footage of a hostage situation a few blocks away where people were closer to civilisation.

"What would have happened if the eggs tasted good?" Mal said, resting her feet on the coffee table.

Amy snorted, taking on other glance out the window, Jess, the man and Mrs De Luca to have seemingly vanished, probably gone back inside. "I know you well enough to know, that never would have happened."

"Asshole."

"Jerk."

The girls chuckled, Amy sitting down next to Mal resting her head on one of the pillows.

But Trish, if you're reading this, then I can't do that anymore. I can't protect her anymore. I need you to help her. I need you to keep her safe for me.

I need you to do the check in's to, get ID's or anything she may need. If I'm not there and he is. The rest of this, is in a flash drive in the envelope, but you have to remember.

Trish, you have to make sure, he never finds out. Hide her, run. He must never know, Trish. He can't know about her.

I know, it'll be hard, but I need you to-

He crumpled the letter in his hands, throwing it across the room. It landed near the pale wooden drawer, the white, slightly brown paper almost blending into the cream carpets.

It was long past evening, the white lights of the bedroom standing out in the darkened house.

He didn't bother with the rest of the letter, the end basically Jessica professing her love for her darling Trish.

Getting up, he walked towards the window, pulling back the curtain. It came at an angle and a tree was blocking it, but he could see two lights from two upstairs bedrooms, next to each other.

There was movement from the curtain on the left, the curtain moving, before being pulled back. The girl, the smaller one, with the longer hair, poking her head out, looking up and down, before turning around, saying something to a person back in her room.

The girl laughed, going back into the room, closing her window, drawing her curtains again.

"Laurent! Alva! Any sign of her!" he shouted, marching back down stairs, picking up the bowl of peanuts, turning on the TV.

The two standing by the window, staring out of it. "Nothing…nothing yet." Alva whimpered.

Kilgrave groaned, grabbing the remote, flicking though the channels impatiently.

Wait for Jessica to return, he thought, picking up one of the peanuts, looking absentmindedly at the screen. Wait for Jessica to come back…once she was here, then…then he could get some answers.

Thoughts?

An addition that I hope you all like!

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