on my vigilante shit again.

Dex still had a contact at the Bureau with high level database access that was willing to hand over complete files on anyone for the right fee. If he’d noticed that every name Dex had given him eventually wound up dead, he never said anything. Dex paid him generously for the information, and for his discretion. 

He’d been sitting at the counter in the diner for the past twenty minutes, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Most of the files he got were thick, pages upon pages of intel. While local police could get away with falsifying records or making certain reports disappear, the Bureau had a record of everyone’s sins. Some of them were restricted and buried beneath mountains of red tape and black bars of classification, but a little patient digging went a long way. Your file however was only a handful of pages, and he’d re-read it seven times already.

There was nothing at all in the pages that aligned with the brief but vitriolic description Chris had given of a thieving, unfaithful gold digger. 

You were a third grade teacher working at an elementary school in Queens, living in a small one bedroom apartment. Astoria was definitely a nicer neighborhood than where Dex lived in Hell’s Kitchen, but it was nowhere near the luxurious price tag of the Upper East Side where Chris was. Your background looked pretty normal. There was no criminal record at all. You’d gotten your Bachelor’s from NYU. You’d worked two part time jobs the entire time you were in school. You’d graduated with honors. Your bank records indicated a decent teaching salary and smart budgeting, but apart from your bills and groceries, all of which you paid for on your own, the biggest purchase he could find in the past month that seemed like a splurge was a $77 tab at a bar in the West Village. So, you’d had maybe two drinks.

None of this aligned with the woman Chris described. It was such a jarring difference that he’d triple checked the information Chris had given him, and that he’d spelled your name correctly and hadn’t mixed up the numbers of your birthday when he gave them to his contact at the Bureau. It all matched, but it didn’t make any sense. The woman depicted in the file was not an exploitative opportunist. 

There was a picture of you paperclipped to one of the pages. It was a candid shot provided by Chris that looked like it had been taken in a luxurious living room with floor to ceiling windows that showcased a high rise view of the city in the background. You were standing in front of a big Christmas tree, your face turned towards the camera, caught in bashful laughter, with one hand outstretched in mid action of placing an ornament on a branch while your other hand cradled a different one. The longer Dex stared at it, the more the jagged fragments of the jigsaw he’d been presented refused to fit. You didn’t look the part either.

It shouldn’t matter. Dex wasn’t getting paid to unravel whatever tale Chris had spun for him, he was getting paid to kill you. Everything else was incidental. But something about this whole thing was beginning to not sit right with him. Maybe he was biased because he and Chris had gotten off on the wrong foot, and he just couldn’t fucking stand the guy, but the more he read about you, the more he had this gut feeling that something was off. 

You were nothing like his usual targets.

The only thing that stood out in your file was that four months ago, you’d seemingly made an abrupt move. You’d been living in Chelsea and teaching at the same elementary school for three years, and then all of a sudden had transferred to the Queens district in the middle of the school year. That struck him as incredibly odd. It hadn’t appeared to be a promotion, you were still teaching a third grade class, and your salary had stayed the same. Even if it had been some kind of offer from the other district, it made more sense that you would wait until the school year was over to make the switch. 

Maybe the school was desperate to fill a spot.

He had no way of knowing if you’d replaced another teacher for some urgent reason, not with what he had in front of him. He’d have to look into that on his own. But even then, he assumed the district would’ve had a substitute or someone who could’ve taken over until you started the following school year. The only other alternative explanation he could think of was that you had requested the quick transfer.

And he wanted to know why.

𖣠

Sitting at one of the picnic benches at the public park across from the school, Dex’s eyes were focused on the emerald green double doors at the top of the front steps from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. He had a book in his hands that he’d gotten from a local bookstore he’d seen quite a few times in your transaction history. His fingers languidly flipped the pages of The Talented Mr. Ripley in timed intervals that would appear as a believable reading length. Trying to keep a low profile as a grown man sitting alone at a park across the street from an elementary school was a delicate task.

He’d only been sitting there for fifteen minutes. School let out at two-thirty, and showing up earlier than the parents of the kids would’ve drawn unnecessary attention to himself. So far, Dex had managed to blend into the background as an even flow of traffic built up along the street in the bus and pick up lanes. People gathered in groups along the sidewalks and school grounds, waiting to pick up their kids, engaging in polite small talk or hushed gossip. 

A few seconds after his watch struck two-thirty, the double doors opened, and children started to pour out down the front steps. He’d stared at your picture long enough today to memorize it, and he searched for your face in the wave of teachers leading their students down to the sidewalk, still flipping through the pages of the book in those timed intervals. There was a surge of activity as children were ushered onto buses, helped into cars or handed off to parents that all seemed to want a moment to exchange updates or concerns with the teachers. 

It was difficult trying to track someone down in such a large bustling crowd, like finding a specific flurry in a swirling snowglobe. Dex couldn’t turn his head or lift it too much, not without disrupting the illusion that he was trying to exhibit. He had to be patient. Even if he somehow missed you here, it wasn’t like he didn’t know where you lived. 

Dex nearly shattered his own act when he saw a young boy that looked startlingly similar to Sami, and it instantly broke his concentration. He knew it couldn’t be Sami, the boy was too young. Sami would be eighteen by now, either in his senior year of high school or already graduated. Dex didn’t even know if he and Seema were still in New York, or if they’d left after Ray died.

Ray.

It had been a long time since Dex had thought about him. Reflecting on the past was a complicated tangle he didn’t like to get stuck in. He didn’t see the point in it. There was no use in questioning if altering the arrangement of cards on a table would’ve changed how they played out. He couldn’t go back and change anything. But there was still a discomfort that settled in the depths of what made Dex human when he remembered Ray, or Julie, and the role he played in their deaths. It felt like a dull blade of something akin to remorse pressed against his throat, not sharp enough to draw a drop of pure guilt, but enough pressure that he was aware of its presence. 

He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it too long though. Before the darkness in the corners of his mind had a chance to swell towards the center and hide the way out of the complex tapestry of introspection, he snipped the strings and severed the tethers to anything that threatened to pull him backwards in time.

As the young boy disappeared with his mother into the mass of people still buzzing on the school grounds, Dex snapped back into focus and remembered why he was here, and as soon as he turned his head, you were directly in his line of sight. The intermission of his illusion continued as he took you in for the first time. You were as radiant as the golden glow of daylight caressing your face. He flipped back to the front of the book where he’d stashed the picture of you from the file, paperclipped to the first page. The candid shot didn’t do your smile justice. It was even brighter in person, and he could almost feel its warmth from here.

He watched you engage in conversations with parents, never once looking impatient or annoyed, bending down to hug your students or ruffle tendrils of unruly hair affectionately. It was evident immediately that you were passionate about teaching and genuinely cared for your students. That struck a chord within him he hadn’t realized was still strung. 

You stayed to see off every kid, even waited an extra twenty minutes for the little girl with the bumblebee backpack whose apologetic mother had been running late. Pretty soon the chaos of pick up started to ebb, and the park was clearing out. His window for how long he could stay without drawing attention was rapidly closing. When you disappeared back inside the school, Dex closed the book and rose from the bench. 

At the end of the block across the street, there was a cafe at the corner. He took a spot in a booth near the front window, where he could still see the front of the school. You didn’t have a car, so there was no reason for you to leave from the back lot where employee parking was. Dex had mapped out which subway stations were closest to the school, and which lines ran near your apartment. He had a pretty good idea of which one you took home. You would have to walk past this cafe to get to it. Pulling out the book, Dex turned to the front page again, tracing his fingertip along your smile in the picture. 

Chris was lying. Dex didn’t know why, but he knew he was. He’d already had a gut feeling that something was amiss, but the moment he laid eyes on you, that suspicion shifted into confirmation beyond a reasonable doubt, as solid as the book in his hands. Looking at you, he’d felt a familiar warmth and magnetic pull that he hadn’t been able to place in the moment, but now he knew what it was.

You reminded him of Julie.

There was an ulterior motive at play here for why Chris wanted you dead, and Dex was determined to find out. So, he waited.

𖣠

Almost forty-five minutes had passed. His mind wandered, curious as to what you were doing. Grading homework? Did third graders really even have homework? He tried to think back to being in third grade, but that felt like several lifetimes ago. Besides, school probably looked incredibly different since the last time he’d been in a classroom. Were you prepping for the next school day? You seemed like the kind of teacher that did fun activities with your students. He wanted to know what they were. He wanted to know what your classroom looked like.

He’d find out over the weekend when it was dark and quiet.

Finally he caught your figure striding down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street from the corner of the cafe. He tracked you with intense focus, his eyes diligently stalking your path, waiting until you were crossing the street before getting up and leaving cash on the table. The bell above the door rang with a shrill ding as he pushed it open to step out, staying on his side of the street, following you at a leisurely pace with the book clutched in his hand.

He’d been right in deducing which subway station you’d take, keeping a safe distance while venturing down the steps after you, waiting a few feet away from on the platform. The sunglasses were now tucked into his pocket, but he pulled the brim of his baseball cap down to his browline, leaning against one of the pillars casually, his eyes occasionally flickering to you in his peripheral vision. You were looking at something on your phone, your attention completely focused on the screen in your hands.

Despite his disdain for social media and modern technology in general, he had to admit it worked in his favor. Most people were so engrossed in the little devices in their hands, they were completely oblivious to their surroundings, unaware that they were being watched. Then again, some people wanted to be watched, although they didn’t seem to be conscious of the fact that casual attention could also attract something darker. Pair that with the fact that most people also wore headphones, and shared entirely too much personal information online, for someone like Dex, it made the game too easy. But he still found other ways to enjoy the hunt.

Resisting the urge to board the same subway car as you, he stepped onto the one to the left of it instead and stood at the far end so he could watch you through the narrow window of the gangway door. His brows lifted slightly seeing that you’d stowed your phone, and seemed to be subtly glancing around the half full car. Your eyes didn’t linger enough to catch anyone’s attention, but enough to be aware of your environment and those in it. You’d also taken a seat right next to the platform doors, ensuring a quick exit if needed at any stop. Amusement tugged subtly at the edge of his mouth.

Smart girl.

Dex followed at a little further back of a distance when you got off the subway, now that he knew you were more observant than most people he tracked. He didn’t want to risk any chance of you spotting him. About two blocks away from your apartment building, you stopped into a cozy looking ramen spot. From across the street, he watched through the front window as one of the staff greeted you with a familiarity that only came with being a regular. He took note of the name of the place, mentally cataloging it as somewhere you frequented.

You stayed standing by the counter, chatting with the elderly man at the front, not staying, he mused. About seven minutes later, the man handed you a neatly tied takeout bag with a friendly grin and a slight bow, which you returned with that dazzling smile and a soft wave. He found himself wondering what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that smile.

Staying across the street, he watched you walk up the front steps of your apartment complex, punching in a code on the metal side panel next to the door before heading inside. He knew you were on the fifth floor, apartment F. He’d pulled up the layout of the complex, and he knew your apartment faced the street. His eyes trailed up to the fifth row of windows, and a few moments later, he saw movement in the third one. Turning his head to look behind him at the apartments he was currently standing in front of, he dipped his head back to look up. There was a rooftop door in the building somewhere, and it wouldn’t be hard to get inside and access it.

Turning his attention back to your building, he looked up at your window one more time, already formulating a plan to come back later tonight.

tags: @demiebarnes @n1n1c @daniiibananiii @snowwythegloww @starlitflora @cxllicpxx @lvmxla @lambmurdock @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @lilly3946 @homiesexuallaj @daizybelle @jeonpendejo @xreader1989 @catsintophats5 @fatexuntold @tadzstuff @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @Grandbasementfart @atlanticstarr @the-sad-batch @were-wright-on-time @14wireboa @itwasthereaminuteago @xMaliciousx @valerinnwrld @avidreader73 @snowwythegloww @wroetolooter @Yllx13 @bloopleeboop @layalinthesun9 @mewmew222 @artandpunishment @olasz-2003 @Chondr1chthyes @ashjbu @deadbutbatman @ugh-whytho @miyamultivrse  @montagoves @nightmisfit @andysthoughtss @taemcatboy @bimboshaggy @bigratbitchsworld @wouldiwereshookspeared @aesthxticmess @liz @pns123tf

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Dex still had a contact at the Bureau with high level database access that was willing to hand over complete files on anyone for the right fee. If he’d noticed that every name Dex had given him eventually wound up dead, he never said anything. Dex paid him generously for the information, and for his discretion. 

He’d been sitting at the counter in the diner for the past twenty minutes, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Most of the files he got were thick, pages upon pages of intel. While local police could get away with falsifying records or making certain reports disappear, the Bureau had a record of everyone’s sins. Some of them were restricted and buried beneath mountains of red tape and black bars of classification, but a little patient digging went a long way. Your file however was only a handful of pages, and he’d re-read it seven times already.

There was nothing at all in the pages that aligned with the brief but vitriolic description Chris had given of a thieving, unfaithful gold digger. 

You were a third grade teacher working at an elementary school in Queens, living in a small one bedroom apartment. Astoria was definitely a nicer neighborhood than where Dex lived in Hell’s Kitchen, but it was nowhere near the luxurious price tag of the Upper East Side where Chris was. Your background looked pretty normal. There was no criminal record at all. You’d gotten your Bachelor’s from NYU. You’d worked two part time jobs the entire time you were in school. You’d graduated with honors. Your bank records indicated a decent teaching salary and smart budgeting, but apart from your bills and groceries, all of which you paid for on your own, the biggest purchase he could find in the past month that seemed like a splurge was a $77 tab at a bar in the West Village. So, you’d had maybe two drinks.

None of this aligned with the woman Chris described. It was such a jarring difference that he’d triple checked the information Chris had given him, and that he’d spelled your name correctly and hadn’t mixed up the numbers of your birthday when he gave them to his contact at the Bureau. It all matched, but it didn’t make any sense. The woman depicted in the file was not an exploitative opportunist. 

There was a picture of you paperclipped to one of the pages. It was a candid shot provided by Chris that looked like it had been taken in a luxurious living room with floor to ceiling windows that showcased a high rise view of the city in the background. You were standing in front of a big Christmas tree, your face turned towards the camera, caught in bashful laughter, with one hand outstretched in mid action of placing an ornament on a branch while your other hand cradled a different one. The longer Dex stared at it, the more the jagged fragments of the jigsaw he’d been presented refused to fit. You didn’t look the part either.

It shouldn’t matter. Dex wasn’t getting paid to unravel whatever tale Chris had spun for him, he was getting paid to kill you. Everything else was incidental. But something about this whole thing was beginning to not sit right with him. Maybe he was biased because he and Chris had gotten off on the wrong foot, and he just couldn’t fucking stand the guy, but the more he read about you, the more he had this gut feeling that something was off. 

You were nothing like his usual targets.

The only thing that stood out in your file was that four months ago, you’d seemingly made an abrupt move. You’d been living in Chelsea and teaching at the same elementary school for three years, and then all of a sudden had transferred to the Queens district in the middle of the school year. That struck him as incredibly odd. It hadn’t appeared to be a promotion, you were still teaching a third grade class, and your salary had stayed the same. Even if it had been some kind of offer from the other district, it made more sense that you would wait until the school year was over to make the switch. 

Maybe the school was desperate to fill a spot.

He had no way of knowing if you’d replaced another teacher for some urgent reason, not with what he had in front of him. He’d have to look into that on his own. But even then, he assumed the district would’ve had a substitute or someone who could’ve taken over until you started the following school year. The only other alternative explanation he could think of was that you had requested the quick transfer.

And he wanted to know why.

𖣠

Sitting at one of the picnic benches at the public park across from the school, Dex’s eyes were focused on the emerald green double doors at the top of the front steps from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. He had a book in his hands that he’d gotten from a local bookstore he’d seen quite a few times in your transaction history. His fingers languidly flipped the pages of The Talented Mr. Ripley in timed intervals that would appear as a believable reading length. Trying to keep a low profile as a grown man sitting alone at a park across the street from an elementary school was a delicate task.

He’d only been sitting there for fifteen minutes. School let out at two-thirty, and showing up earlier than the parents of the kids would’ve drawn unnecessary attention to himself. So far, Dex had managed to blend into the background as an even flow of traffic built up along the street in the bus and pick up lanes. People gathered in groups along the sidewalks and school grounds, waiting to pick up their kids, engaging in polite small talk or hushed gossip. 

A few seconds after his watch struck two-thirty, the double doors opened, and children started to pour out down the front steps. He’d stared at your picture long enough today to memorize it, and he searched for your face in the wave of teachers leading their students down to the sidewalk, still flipping through the pages of the book in those timed intervals. There was a surge of activity as children were ushered onto buses, helped into cars or handed off to parents that all seemed to want a moment to exchange updates or concerns with the teachers. 

It was difficult trying to track someone down in such a large bustling crowd, like finding a specific flurry in a swirling snowglobe. Dex couldn’t turn his head or lift it too much, not without disrupting the illusion that he was trying to exhibit. He had to be patient. Even if he somehow missed you here, it wasn’t like he didn’t know where you lived. 

Dex nearly shattered his own act when he saw a young boy that looked startlingly similar to Sami, and it instantly broke his concentration. He knew it couldn’t be Sami, the boy was too young. Sami would be eighteen by now, either in his senior year of high school or already graduated. Dex didn’t even know if he and Seema were still in New York, or if they’d left after Ray died.

Ray.

It had been a long time since Dex had thought about him. Reflecting on the past was a complicated tangle he didn’t like to get stuck in. He didn’t see the point in it. There was no use in questioning if altering the arrangement of cards on a table would’ve changed how they played out. He couldn’t go back and change anything. But there was still a discomfort that settled in the depths of what made Dex human when he remembered Ray, or Julie, and the role he played in their deaths. It felt like a dull blade of something akin to remorse pressed against his throat, not sharp enough to draw a drop of pure guilt, but enough pressure that he was aware of its presence. 

He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it too long though. Before the darkness in the corners of his mind had a chance to swell towards the center and hide the way out of the complex tapestry of introspection, he snipped the strings and severed the tethers to anything that threatened to pull him backwards in time.

As the young boy disappeared with his mother into the mass of people still buzzing on the school grounds, Dex snapped back into focus and remembered why he was here, and as soon as he turned his head, you were directly in his line of sight. The intermission of his illusion continued as he took you in for the first time. You were as radiant as the golden glow of daylight caressing your face. He flipped back to the front of the book where he’d stashed the picture of you from the file, paperclipped to the first page. The candid shot didn’t do your smile justice. It was even brighter in person, and he could almost feel its warmth from here.

He watched you engage in conversations with parents, never once looking impatient or annoyed, bending down to hug your students or ruffle tendrils of unruly hair affectionately. It was evident immediately that you were passionate about teaching and genuinely cared for your students. That struck a chord within him he hadn’t realized was still strung. 

You stayed to see off every kid, even waited an extra twenty minutes for the little girl with the bumblebee backpack whose apologetic mother had been running late. Pretty soon the chaos of pick up started to ebb, and the park was clearing out. His window for how long he could stay without drawing attention was rapidly closing. When you disappeared back inside the school, Dex closed the book and rose from the bench. 

At the end of the block across the street, there was a cafe at the corner. He took a spot in a booth near the front window, where he could still see the front of the school. You didn’t have a car, so there was no reason for you to leave from the back lot where employee parking was. Dex had mapped out which subway stations were closest to the school, and which lines ran near your apartment. He had a pretty good idea of which one you took home. You would have to walk past this cafe to get to it. Pulling out the book, Dex turned to the front page again, tracing his fingertip along your smile in the picture. 

Chris was lying. Dex didn’t know why, but he knew he was. He’d already had a gut feeling that something was amiss, but the moment he laid eyes on you, that suspicion shifted into confirmation beyond a reasonable doubt, as solid as the book in his hands. Looking at you, he’d felt a familiar warmth and magnetic pull that he hadn’t been able to place in the moment, but now he knew what it was.

You reminded him of Julie.

There was an ulterior motive at play here for why Chris wanted you dead, and Dex was determined to find out. So, he waited.

𖣠

Almost forty-five minutes had passed. His mind wandered, curious as to what you were doing. Grading homework? Did third graders really even have homework? He tried to think back to being in third grade, but that felt like several lifetimes ago. Besides, school probably looked incredibly different since the last time he’d been in a classroom. Were you prepping for the next school day? You seemed like the kind of teacher that did fun activities with your students. He wanted to know what they were. He wanted to know what your classroom looked like.

He’d find out over the weekend when it was dark and quiet.

Finally he caught your figure striding down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street from the corner of the cafe. He tracked you with intense focus, his eyes diligently stalking your path, waiting until you were crossing the street before getting up and leaving cash on the table. The bell above the door rang with a shrill ding as he pushed it open to step out, staying on his side of the street, following you at a leisurely pace with the book clutched in his hand.

He’d been right in deducing which subway station you’d take, keeping a safe distance while venturing down the steps after you, waiting a few feet away from on the platform. The sunglasses were now tucked into his pocket, but he pulled the brim of his baseball cap down to his browline, leaning against one of the pillars casually, his eyes occasionally flickering to you in his peripheral vision. You were looking at something on your phone, your attention completely focused on the screen in your hands.

Despite his disdain for social media and modern technology in general, he had to admit it worked in his favor. Most people were so engrossed in the little devices in their hands, they were completely oblivious to their surroundings, unaware that they were being watched. Then again, some people wanted to be watched, although they didn’t seem to be conscious of the fact that casual attention could also attract something darker. Pair that with the fact that most people also wore headphones, and shared entirely too much personal information online, for someone like Dex, it made the game too easy. But he still found other ways to enjoy the hunt.

Resisting the urge to board the same subway car as you, he stepped onto the one to the left of it instead and stood at the far end so he could watch you through the narrow window of the gangway door. His brows lifted slightly seeing that you’d stowed your phone, and seemed to be subtly glancing around the half full car. Your eyes didn’t linger enough to catch anyone’s attention, but enough to be aware of your environment and those in it. You’d also taken a seat right next to the platform doors, ensuring a quick exit if needed at any stop. Amusement tugged subtly at the edge of his mouth.

Smart girl.

Dex followed at a little further back of a distance when you got off the subway, now that he knew you were more observant than most people he tracked. He didn’t want to risk any chance of you spotting him. About two blocks away from your apartment building, you stopped into a cozy looking ramen spot. From across the street, he watched through the front window as one of the staff greeted you with a familiarity that only came with being a regular. He took note of the name of the place, mentally cataloging it as somewhere you frequented.

You stayed standing by the counter, chatting with the elderly man at the front, not staying, he mused. About seven minutes later, the man handed you a neatly tied takeout bag with a friendly grin and a slight bow, which you returned with that dazzling smile and a soft wave. He found himself wondering what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that smile.

Staying across the street, he watched you walk up the front steps of your apartment complex, punching in a code on the metal side panel next to the door before heading inside. He knew you were on the fifth floor, apartment F. He’d pulled up the layout of the complex, and he knew your apartment faced the street. His eyes trailed up to the fifth row of windows, and a few moments later, he saw movement in the third one. Turning his head to look behind him at the apartments he was currently standing in front of, he dipped his head back to look up. There was a rooftop door in the building somewhere, and it wouldn’t be hard to get inside and access it.

Turning his attention back to your building, he looked up at your window one more time, already formulating a plan to come back later tonight.

tags: @demiebarnes @n1n1c @daniiibananiii @snowwythegloww @starlitflora @cxllicpxx @lvmxla @lambmurdock @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @lilly3946 @homiesexuallaj @daizybelle @jeonpendejo @xreader1989 @catsintophats5 @fatexuntold @tadzstuff @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @Grandbasementfart @atlanticstarr @the-sad-batch @were-wright-on-time @14wireboa @itwasthereaminuteago @xMaliciousx @valerinnwrld @avidreader73 @snowwythegloww @wroetolooter @Yllx13 @bloopleeboop @layalinthesun9 @mewmew222 @artandpunishment @olasz-2003 @Chondr1chthyes @ashjbu @deadbutbatman @ugh-whytho @miyamultivrse  @montagoves @nightmisfit @andysthoughtss @taemcatboy @bimboshaggy @bigratbitchsworld @wouldiwereshookspeared @aesthxticmess @liz @pns123tf

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jessica lets out a tired sigh and then smiles, “thank god.”

“you didn’t have to stay and help.” she sets a hand on your arm and you shake your head.

“i wanted to. i’m glad you’re gonna be in the city more.” you shrug, bending down to pick up a rogue piece of lego by your feet.

“me too.” she says softly, holding your gaze.

it was too vulnerable, it made something in your chest ache.

you refused to let yourself love her, but maybe your heart outwitted your brain.

you set the piece of lego next to the building dani was putting together, swallowing hard when you realize how much this felt like home.

things had settled and for the past little while, you had allowed your walls to come down.

jessica was going to open up her office again, which meant more excuses to see her. but recently, you stopped needing to find reasons to be by her side.

“i’ll drive back and grab the last boxes, let you get settled in.” you stand back up, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

“okay, you sure?” she leans in to kiss your cheek and your heart melts.

“yeah i’m sure.” you decide to be brave, pecking her lips before grabbing your jacket and keys.

you don’t see it, but she’s smiling as you leave.

-

you nearly knock into him on your way out of the building, coming to a halt when you realize who it was.

“luke, hi.” you’re sure you look like an idiot, eyes wide.

he says your name, giving you a smile, “it’s been a while.”

“yeah, are you back?” you don’t mean for it to come out as blunt as it does, but he just chuckles.

“i’m back, yeah. last update i got from her, she said she was moving some things back to the apartment, i figured i’d find her here.”

“she and dani are both upstairs, i was just going to head back to the house and grab the last couple of boxes.” you motion to your car parked a little further down the street.

“i’ll let you get to it.” he waves goodbye as he turns and heads into the building.

you walk down the street with a lump in your throat.

you should be happy that he’s back. you are happy that he’s back. but a part of you felt crushed, like whatever you had with jessica would be over now.

you had no clue that the night you arranged for luke and jessica to talk on the phone, she had told him all about you, and that he knew just how much you meant to her and danielle.

luke didn’t want you thinking for a second that just because he was back, you had to step away.

he wanted his family to be happy, and you seem to make them happy.

as you take off towards the house, you can’t stop thinking about dani sitting on the office floor, building with lego.

each piece was placed brick by brick, a precision only she understands.

and that’s how your life felt, meticulously planned steps.

but just like lego, the littlest touch could send the bricks tumbling to the floor.

falling for jessica jones and subsequently her daughter, had knocked down the tower you’d been building for years.

and maybe you were okay with that now.

jessica lets out a tired sigh and then smiles, “thank god.”

“you didn’t have to stay and help.” she sets a hand on your arm and you shake your head.

“i wanted to. i’m glad you’re gonna be in the city more.” you shrug, bending down to pick up a rogue piece of lego by your feet.

“me too.” she says softly, holding your gaze.

it was too vulnerable, it made something in your chest ache.

you refused to let yourself love her, but maybe your heart outwitted your brain.

you set the piece of lego next to the building dani was putting together, swallowing hard when you realize how much this felt like home.

things had settled and for the past little while, you had allowed your walls to come down.

jessica was going to open up her office again, which meant more excuses to see her. but recently, you stopped needing to find reasons to be by her side.

“i’ll drive back and grab the last boxes, let you get settled in.” you stand back up, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

“okay, you sure?” she leans in to kiss your cheek and your heart melts.

“yeah i’m sure.” you decide to be brave, pecking her lips before grabbing your jacket and keys.

you don’t see it, but she’s smiling as you leave.

-

you nearly knock into him on your way out of the building, coming to a halt when you realize who it was.

“luke, hi.” you’re sure you look like an idiot, eyes wide.

he says your name, giving you a smile, “it’s been a while.”

“yeah, are you back?” you don’t mean for it to come out as blunt as it does, but he just chuckles.

“i’m back, yeah. last update i got from her, she said she was moving some things back to the apartment, i figured i’d find her here.”

“she and dani are both upstairs, i was just going to head back to the house and grab the last couple of boxes.” you motion to your car parked a little further down the street.

“i’ll let you get to it.” he waves goodbye as he turns and heads into the building.

you walk down the street with a lump in your throat.

you should be happy that he’s back. you are happy that he’s back. but a part of you felt crushed, like whatever you had with jessica would be over now.

you had no clue that the night you arranged for luke and jessica to talk on the phone, she had told him all about you, and that he knew just how much you meant to her and danielle.

luke didn’t want you thinking for a second that just because he was back, you had to step away.

he wanted his family to be happy, and you seem to make them happy.

as you take off towards the house, you can’t stop thinking about dani sitting on the office floor, building with lego.

each piece was placed brick by brick, a precision only she understands.

and that’s how your life felt, meticulously planned steps.

but just like lego, the littlest touch could send the bricks tumbling to the floor.

falling for jessica jones and subsequently her daughter, had knocked down the tower you’d been building for years.

and maybe you were okay with that now.

“if you don’t go, she’s gonna take it out on me.” he smirks and you scoff.

“cherry was right about laying on the guilt.” you mutter under your breath.

“go see her.”

“fine. only because i don’t need to stay with dex anymore, and you need to get to the precinct.” you stand up, hands on your hips as you think over a plan of action.

“yep, no more babysitting duty as an excuse to avoid your feelings.” matt claps a hand on your shoulder and you roll your eyes.

“i hate you. say hi to karen for me.” you grab your jacket and leave franks hideout.

-

danielle is the one who answers the door when the two of them see you approaching, immediately clinging onto your leg as you step inside.

“hi sweetheart.” you bend down to press a kiss to her head, feeling the weight leave your shoulders.

“mom says i have to go to bed, but i wanted to see you.” she frowns.

“i’m happy to see you too.” you brush a thumb over her cheek.

“okay honey, head upstairs.” jess walks over, ruffling her daughters hair.

she follows danielle up the stairs, returning a few minutes later to find you sitting on the edge of the sofa, wringing your hands and staring at the floor.

“does matt have a plan?”

“why did you want to see me?”

you speak over each other, making you both chuckle.

“you first.” she sits down at a respectable distance from you, but you can feel the weight of her stare.

“why did you want to see me?”

“because you rushed off earlier, and then i had to go meet up with matt. we never got the chance to actually talk.” she runs a hand down her face and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“what is there to talk about?” you murmur, pressing your palms hard against your knees.

“how about the fact that you did something extremely risky for us, and refuse to stick around long enough for me to make it up to you.”

“you don’t owe me anything, jessica.” you turn to look at her, sighing.

“okay, fine. but i still want you to stick around.” she moves slightly closer and you feel yourself tense, then relax when her hand rests between your shoulder blades.

“it’s not my place, jess.” you whisper, turning your head away from her once more.

“do i not get a say?” you can hear her smirk and it puts a piece of your heart back together.

“you just got charles off of your back, and thanks to your tip, matt sent dex to hopefully save the governor.” you try to steer the conversation away from yourself, and back to the situation at hand.

she says your name and you inhale sharply.

“let yourself have something good.” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to your shoulder.

you reach to the side for her hand and she takes it happily, chin resting on your shoulder now.

“karen’s trial starts tomorrow. matt’s planning on showing his face.” you run your thumb along her knuckles, finally feeling like you could catch your breath.

“you gonna be there?” she asks quietly.

you nod, lips pulled into a tight line.

“okay, so you should get some sleep.” she moves to stand and you fight back a whine at the loss of her closeness.

she keeps your hand in hers, gently tugging you upright and towards the stairs.

you scoff but let yourself be led into her bedroom.

it was a blur, stripping off your clothes and changing into one of her shirts, then collapsing beneath the covers of her bed.

her arm wraps around your waist from behind, face tucked into the crook of your neck.

nothing else needed to be said, because you both felt it in the silence, the weight of what you mean to one another.

“no, no, not at all. i’m here to get something from you.” you look at him, a glint of pride in your chest at how shaken up jess had gotten him.

“and what is that?”

“you’re gonna get me a burner phone, with a number to reach luke. it’s going to be untraceable, unhackable, and legit.” you hold out a piece of paper with a location and time for him to drop it off.

“you sure are putting yourself out there for someone who’s been playing house with someone else’s family.” he takes the paper from your hand and the comment strikes a nerve.

“and i think you are forgetting my background.” your hand wraps around his throat, pressing hard with a glint in your eyes.

you hold for a second longer, watching as his face turns red and he sputters, then let him go.

“right! the agent of shield, until it all came crumbling down. then a photographer for the new york bulletin, helping out a law firm and a PI.” he laughs weakly, rubbing a hand over his neck, “recruited by sam wilson to help him take down the flag smashers…it’s a wonder langley didn’t send me to offer you a job.”

“get me the phone, and don’t fuck with us.” you head past him, ignoring any of his further attempts to rile you up.

-

jessica looks pissed when she lets you in the front door.

“hey.” you smile nervously, standing in place as you close the door behind you.

“that was stupid.” she cups your face in her hands.

“out of anyone involved, i have the most protection. sam would help me out if charles, or the task force got to me. his reach is way above fisk, and you and dani deserve to talk to luke.”

she just continues to glare at you and you reach up to grab her hands from your cheeks.

“and how’d you know where i went?” you ask, grinning when she rolls her eyes.

“i know you, and i knew you wouldn’t listen to me.”

you reach into the pocket of your hoodie, holding up the burner.

“he’s going to call at six.” you hand it to her and she looks from the phone, back to you.

“thank you.” she sighs, pocketing it.

“anytime.” you glance out the window by the door.

“i should go.”

“you can stay. you know that, right?” jessica looks almost desperate, making you swallow hard and look away from her.

“im always putting myself in the line of fire, and i cant keep bringing that back to you and danielle.”

“i don’t know what the fuck he said to you, but you are a part of this family. nothing is going to change that.” she clenches her jaw.

“i know.” you give her a tight lipped smile, “i’ll check in later.”

you lean in and kiss her cheek, then head out the door, letting out a loud sigh as you walk away from the house.

you had been playing house with them, and maybe that wasn’t fair. but you’d do anything to help and protect them, even if it meant taking a step away.