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superjoanjettIt had been a week since... that thing with Kilgrave. There had been a lot of public debate on whether what she had done constituted murder or justice.
Luckily, Hogarth had put enough spin on the situation that it was considered justice. Plus the cops in the precinct it happened in all remembered Kilgrave walking in and taking control of all their minds. So they weren't going to touch the case at all. But now there were other problems. Namely her phone ringing off the hook asking for her to do more than just take pictures of people banging each other.
So she was packing. Under the watchful eye of her own personal Jiminy Cricket.
"You can't just run away," Trish lectured as Jess continued to pack. "And are you just packing alcohol?"
"I'm not running away," Jess countered as she continued to pack... yes, okay, it was mostly bourbon. But there was underwear in there too. "The boat he stole had a specific route and he told the captain it was a perfect location. I'm following a lead. "
"A lead of a dead guy," Trish replied. "He's dead and not going there."
"Yeah," Jessica said now trying to shove more t-shirts and tank tops into her duffel bag but not very successfully. "But why was he going there? It's just off the coast near Baltimore to an island that doesn't exist. It's a blank spot in the ocean. And that kind of shit bothers me."
Trish sighed and watched Jessica continue to try and pack. "You'd get more room if you folded the shirts and rolled them up," she suggested.
"Yeah, I don't care," Jess said pulling out a t-shirt. Maybe she should go with less underwear.
Trish sighed and walked over to the bag where she gently pushed Jessica out of the way and began to organize it all. "You don't need this many bottles."
"I need exactly that many of bottles," Jess countered.
Trish shook her head but continued to pack Jessica's bag. "He's not coming back. He's not going to wherever you think he was going. Why not just let it go?"
"Would you just let it go?" Jessica asked.
Trish sighed again and started folding Jessica's t-shirts and tank tops. "No. But I found the coordinates you were looking at on your desk and I checked it out. There's nothing there, Jess. You're wasting your time when you could be helping people."
"Something is there," Jessica said shaking her head. "And once I know something is actually nothing, then I can put this behind me."
Trish nodded and continued to fold the clothing and stack it neatly in the bag. She even shifted the contents around so two more bottles could fit in it. "So this isn't an excuse to get away from the media and avoid the people constantly calling on you to be a hero?"
"Don't say the h-word," Jessica letting her irritation show.
Trish finally looked up and stared at Jessica wordlessly.
Jessica sighed. "Fine. It's totally an excuse. Happy now?"
Trish said nothing but picked up the bag and handed it to Jessica. "Call me?"
"Yeah, sure," she said taking the bag and walking out of the office.
"No. I mean it. Call me!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," Jess said walking toward the end of the hallway and to the elevator. She pressed the button and walked in through the doors. When she turned around Trish was standing at the door and still staring at her with her arms crossed. "I'll be fine."
And then suddenly Trish realized something. "Exactly how can you afford this trip to Baltimore?"
"I'll pay you back!" Jess called out just in time to see Trish roll her eyes and throw her hands up in the air as the doors shut.
Jessica sighed and closed her eyes. As the elevator lurched and went down she felt a weird sensation cross over her. Like whenever Kilgrave told her to do something she didn't want to do.
She looked down at the floor of the elevator. They had done a good job cleaning out the blood but there was still some of it in the cracks of the linoleum tiles. Her brain flashed back to seeing Hope standing in the elevator holding the gun.
Smile Jessica.
She involuntarily took a gasp of air and let it out slowl.
"Birch Street," she said aloud. "Birch Street, Higgins Drive, Cobalt Lane."
It didn't help. When the door opened she repeated the mantra in her head as she walked out of her apartment building and headed to the bus station.
Luckily, Hogarth had put enough spin on the situation that it was considered justice. Plus the cops in the precinct it happened in all remembered Kilgrave walking in and taking control of all their minds. So they weren't going to touch the case at all. But now there were other problems. Namely her phone ringing off the hook asking for her to do more than just take pictures of people banging each other.
So she was packing. Under the watchful eye of her own personal Jiminy Cricket.
"You can't just run away," Trish lectured as Jess continued to pack. "And are you just packing alcohol?"
"I'm not running away," Jess countered as she continued to pack... yes, okay, it was mostly bourbon. But there was underwear in there too. "The boat he stole had a specific route and he told the captain it was a perfect location. I'm following a lead. "
"A lead of a dead guy," Trish replied. "He's dead and not going there."
"Yeah," Jessica said now trying to shove more t-shirts and tank tops into her duffel bag but not very successfully. "But why was he going there? It's just off the coast near Baltimore to an island that doesn't exist. It's a blank spot in the ocean. And that kind of shit bothers me."
Trish sighed and watched Jessica continue to try and pack. "You'd get more room if you folded the shirts and rolled them up," she suggested.
"Yeah, I don't care," Jess said pulling out a t-shirt. Maybe she should go with less underwear.
Trish sighed and walked over to the bag where she gently pushed Jessica out of the way and began to organize it all. "You don't need this many bottles."
"I need exactly that many of bottles," Jess countered.
Trish shook her head but continued to pack Jessica's bag. "He's not coming back. He's not going to wherever you think he was going. Why not just let it go?"
"Would you just let it go?" Jessica asked.
Trish sighed again and started folding Jessica's t-shirts and tank tops. "No. But I found the coordinates you were looking at on your desk and I checked it out. There's nothing there, Jess. You're wasting your time when you could be helping people."
"Something is there," Jessica said shaking her head. "And once I know something is actually nothing, then I can put this behind me."
Trish nodded and continued to fold the clothing and stack it neatly in the bag. She even shifted the contents around so two more bottles could fit in it. "So this isn't an excuse to get away from the media and avoid the people constantly calling on you to be a hero?"
"Don't say the h-word," Jessica letting her irritation show.
Trish finally looked up and stared at Jessica wordlessly.
Jessica sighed. "Fine. It's totally an excuse. Happy now?"
Trish said nothing but picked up the bag and handed it to Jessica. "Call me?"
"Yeah, sure," she said taking the bag and walking out of the office.
"No. I mean it. Call me!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," Jess said walking toward the end of the hallway and to the elevator. She pressed the button and walked in through the doors. When she turned around Trish was standing at the door and still staring at her with her arms crossed. "I'll be fine."
And then suddenly Trish realized something. "Exactly how can you afford this trip to Baltimore?"
"I'll pay you back!" Jess called out just in time to see Trish roll her eyes and throw her hands up in the air as the doors shut.
Jessica sighed and closed her eyes. As the elevator lurched and went down she felt a weird sensation cross over her. Like whenever Kilgrave told her to do something she didn't want to do.
She looked down at the floor of the elevator. They had done a good job cleaning out the blood but there was still some of it in the cracks of the linoleum tiles. Her brain flashed back to seeing Hope standing in the elevator holding the gun.
Smile Jessica.
She involuntarily took a gasp of air and let it out slowl.
"Birch Street," she said aloud. "Birch Street, Higgins Drive, Cobalt Lane."
It didn't help. When the door opened she repeated the mantra in her head as she walked out of her apartment building and headed to the bus station.
