A: Jess.
A: I know you said not to text this number
A: But u not answering our phone
A: Something happened to Mal
A: There was this explosion and
A: She's in the hospital.
A: I need y l

"No," Amy mumbled, tapping her thumb against the screen.

A: She's in the hospital.

Waiting in a hospital was oddly isolating. There were people everywhere, nurses, doctors, patients. Noise beyond belief, considering she was at the very edge of the emergency room, yet she couldn't recall a time she felt more alone.

Family only.

She's called Max and Willa already. They were on their way now. Mal was in surgery, she had been for almost two hours now. Mrs De Luca was dead. She'd been dead for over three hours now. The metal cuffed bracelet that she gripped onto for dear life every single waking moment had been damaged and malfunctioning for over two hours and fifty minutes now.

She shivered pressing herself against the wall, curling into a ball on the floor, her phone between her knees on her lap.

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't.

She couldn't. Jessica had been all cryptic and strange, showing up and not even sparing a second glance in her direction. Now, Mrs De Luca; dead. Mal; hospital. That strange man in purple across the street and Jess. She found herself landing to one and only conclusion: Kilgrave.

She didn't know enough, but she guessed it had something to do with Hope Shlottman, her and maybe even her mother.

"Ms Carver?" a nurse said, walking up to her in full blue scrubs. She pulled herself up. "Is she-?"

"Mallory is going to be just fine." the nurse said gently. Amy let out a breath, shutting her eyes, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. The woman gently rubbing her arm. "She's just being finished stitched up. We're not out of the woods yet." she added. "Shrapnel had entered her system, but we got lucky."

"I'll explain all the details to your parents, when they get here okay? So don't worry too much." The nurse said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. She knew the nurse was sugar-coating some of it, trying to get into too much detail so she wouldn't freak out like she had when she got here.

She nodded. "Thank you, nurse…"

"Alvez."

"Thank you, so much." Amy said, squeezing her hand. Nurse Alvez giving her a comforting almost motherly smile that made her heartache just a little. She missed those kind of smiles. Willa gave them occasionally, but next to Mal, she felt more like an imposter receiving them.

Amy sighed, sitting down on one of the chairs, glancing at her phone.

A: She's in the hospital.

Mal was okay. Now that she was, she knew what she had to do.

He was pacing. She'd be lying to say, she that his uneasy was just slightly enjoyable to her, despite the disgust that filled her stomach when she glanced up at the videos. Her thoughts drifted to Amy, when Angie had her face down on their kitchen table, with a needle as big as the little girl's head, to inject the clear-coloured serum into her neck.

Picking up the remote, she switched the video to another young boy, a doctor speaking Mandarin to him. She switched it again, a young girl now filling the wall, who was looking at her amputated hands in horror. She tapped the button again to another young girl, with a large contraption on her legs. Her screams filling the room.

"So you weren't the only lab rat?" Jessica said, setting down the remote. "Reva knew about this didn't she? And that's why you wanted her dead."

"I never touched that woman." Kilgrave said, pausing in his pacing, facing her.

"Where are these other kids? You killed for this video, and you never thought to look for the other kids?" Jessica asked. He found one. She knew how Angie came to be now. "Afraid of the competition?"

"Come on, you're a better sleuth than that." Kilgrave scoffed. "They were all in different labs. I was too busy looking for my own sadistic parents to care about strange children."

"Maybe you killed them all." Jessica replied. "Maybe you-"

"Help me! I'm being held captive by a mad -!"

Jessica slammed her hand on the button, the current shooting though the wires, making his fall to the floor. Great another-

Distraction. That was the key to this plan. Well it was until she realised that everything seemed to co-operate with her. She asked a cab driver to take her to the city: Yes, I can do that. She emptied out as much money as she dared. She asked a person on the street to direct her: they walked all the way there with her right up to the building before hurrying off. She asked to go in: Yes, so course.

It was by that last yes, that she suspected that it wasn't luck. Or kindness. It was compulsion.

The word made her feel sick. She spent so long being shocked by currents and inoculated by drugs to remember she even had abilities. It was a like a faint thought at the back of your mind, rather than a concrete fact.

She decided to be as quiet and say as little as possible for the time being. But she made it. New York. Hell's Kitchen. Alias Investigations. Jessica Jones apartment. The window was kinda bashed in. The door opened quite easily and the whole complex itself was sketchy. It didn't help that she looked completely out of place for it.

Like Goth met prep. And not in a good way.

She pulled out her phone, throwing her bag on the floor, slumping herself on Jessica's couch that instantly sunk in on impact. The apartment was dark, dreary but there was something almost charming about it. Even though it smelled like a rotting corpse and whiskey.

Tapping the last person she texted, she committed the final forbidden thing. She called.

"Amy?"

"Hi Jess," Amy said, pressing the cold phone against her ear.

"What the hell are you doing? Get off thi-

"I'm at your apartment."

"You're what?"

"I let myself in," she added, biting her lower lip. "I hope that's okay."

"Amelia, go home." Jess said, she was clearly swallowing down her anger. She wasn't the total hot-headed type.

"I can't. I need to be here." Amy said firmly.

"No. You need to go home." Jessica replied, the sound of whistling wind, and the hooting of cars. She was in the street. Was she nearby? "Go to Mal, she needs you-"

"Mal needs her family, Jess." Amy said, jumping up. "And I'm not an idiot, I know this has to do with Kilgrave. It's my responsibility too."

"No, it's not." Jessica snapped. Amy flinched.

"You hear me? He's not-"

"The collar broke, Jess." she whispered. "I can't go back. I can't-I…You're the only person I can go to…And I can help. I can. We can figure out a way to catch him, properly or-"

"Oh, je…" Jessica mumbled under her breath. "I caught him, Ames."

"What?"

"I caught Kilgrave. I have him, trapped for now. I'm getting a confession for Hope."

"How?" Amy said, plonking back down on the couch.

"Anyway I can." Jessica said, sighing. "Okay, you're not staying there alone. It's not safe. I'm gonna call Trish to pick you up, you remember the picture of her I showed you?"

"Yes."

"Don't open the door for anyone. Don't go in the bedroom and if anyone knocks don't answer." Jessica said quickly, the sound of a wheels screeching against the road.

"What if they just come in?" Amy asked, glancing at the door, which seemed to shake when the draft blew in.

"Hide under my desk, and kick them in the balls, got it?"

"Got it." Amy mumbled, not seeming confident in that idea, but didn't really have much of a better one.

"Good. I'll see you soon kid."

"See you."

Trish. She decided, was far prettier in than in a photo. Blonde, blue-eyed with a face like a Barbie doll. But it wasn't that or her nice clothes (despite them looking slightly rumbled) that made her pretty. There was this aura around her, welcoming and gentle almost. Even if she drove like someone from Fast and the Furious.

After about ten minutes of her hell driving, they finally arrived at a large dingy, to what looked like an abandoned factory. "Are you sure we're in the right place?" she asked, stepping out of the car, awkwardly hovering by the door, as Trish grabbed her things.

"Umm, pretty sure," Trish said, glancing up from her phone. "Come on," she said walking up the steps, pulling open the large doors by the slightly rusted metal.

Amy blinked, trying to ignore all the multiple red flags in this situation, before begrudgingly following Trish. The interior was exactly what she expected it to be, dingy, flicking lights, and first class creepy, making her half jog to remain close to Trish. This was the type of place one may get attacked by a Demogorgon.

"What's that noise?" Amy asked, the sounds of yelling, water and slamming filling the almost silent building. Trish froze for a second. "Shit." she muttered, grabbing Amy's arm dragging her to the side. "Wait here."

"But, Trish! Okay…" Amy mumbled, setting her backpack on the floor, pulling out her phone, hugging it close to her chest, leaning against the wall.

Maybe this was a bad idea…maybe it was sick to think, but she wanted nothing more than to run away. Away from this building, away from Mal and Jessica, away from her powers, away from her mother. Everything.

"What's the matter with you people?! You just going to let this happen!"

"What is hell…" Amy mumbled, picking her backpack off the floor. What was happening? What were Trish and Jess doing?

The door opened, a tall, dark-haired woman, walking out. "What's happening in there?" Amy asked, the woman pausing, giving her a once over, adjusting her handbag.

"Jessica is torturing someone." The woman said. Amy blinked. "What? Why would she-?" she started, a new shout ringing out: "Please! Somebody help me!"

"Go see for yourself." The woman said, turning walking down the hall.

Amy scoffed, throwing the doors open, jogging down the long hallway. Trish" hunching over a table, a large red button in the middle, her hand hovering over it, watching the scene in front of her play out.

A few feet from Trish was a large glass cage, something akin to a prison cell, with water filling the bottom of it. With Jessica, and (who she guessed to be Kilgrave) who was for lack of any other better, accurate expression, beating the living shit out of him.

Now, one would have expected the whole: "Jessica no!" or some other shout of apprehension towards the very illegal business going on, or at least made a loud dramatic gasp.

Amy did none of these things. Maybe it was shock. She was frozen, as if cursed to stand and watch.

"Feels good doesn't it? Being in control?" Kilgrave whispered, when she threw him into the wall. "Must have felt good, being in control of her too."

Jessica froze, her eyes drifting to the room, fixating on the young girl in the middle. She stood, unblinking, her eyes met hers. And for the first time, she wasn't met with instant warmth or trust.

"Little Amelia?"

She hit him again, Kilgrave staggering to his knees, she raised her hand-

She reacted before she could stop herself, slamming her hands against the button, a shock wave of electricity running though, the sounds of two bodies slamming to the floor. Trish sighed. Amy taking a breath, stepping back from the button, running her hand though her hair, unable to look at the cage a second longer.

This was a bad idea.

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