Jessica didn’t have to look around to know the man hadn’t run away at her outburst. Was he into the street theater of her complete breakdown? Tears continued to fall down her face as the scent of Kilgrave’s cologne continued to choke her. She couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t speak the street names to help ground her in where she was.

Her knees gave out and she fell down onto the street. Smoke began to pour out of her mouth which was new. It would have gone unnoticed if it hadn’t had the strong smell of sulfur. It overpowered every other smell giving her space. Enough space to breathe and calmly recite street names.

If she hadn’t been so distracted she would have heard the hiss of water being turned to steam when her hands touched the street. An imprint of her hands was visible on the street when she brought her hands up to cover her face. She repeated the street names again as she rocked back and forth trying to get the memories back into the box they belonged in.

Davos wasn’t built to comfort people in their time of pain and anguish. He was built to help them survive horrors so that he could take them to those that had such specialized training to help them live. Still, when the woman fell to her knees, he started forward, though he didn’t touch her. He had seen such breakdowns and knew that, depending on the person, he could inadvertently do more harm than good with a reassuring hand. 

When smoke started to pour out of her mouth, all question about her being one of the chosen selected for power shrank to almost nothing. With the variety of mutants Davos had seen, he knew that could explain her powers, but it seemed more likely that such an odd display was from the stones. Then again, he had seen several blue people, so perhaps not.

The hiss of steam drew his attention and Davos felt further vindicated in his decision not to make contact with her. He did not understand what she was whispering, but it seemed to soothe her. A mantra, then. He had heard several now and had his own, so he understood their purpose. 

Jessica grabbed for her head and dug her nails in to try to anchor herself in the present.  She hated so many things about her PTSD.  When it went off like this, trying to pull out of the downward spiral was the hardest thing.  Having to deal with it in private was bad enough.

She felt tears start to come down her face.  She wasn’t just smelling that limey asshole’s cologne, she was starting to remember how he’d made her feel for him.  There were so many horrible things that came from that time in her life. Even though he was dead, the damage he’d done to her was still there.

When she heard a man speak, she half expected it to be him. As relieved as she was that it wasn’t, the last thing she wanted was pity from a stranger. “I’m fine,” she shrieked, her voice cracking a little. Tears fell down her face freely and she doubted she was convincing.

“Leave me alone, I can take care of myself,” she yelled. Her voice was shaking and her legs felt unsteady. The guy probably wasn’t from around here and had this misfortune to get stuck in this mess. Which was whatever as long as he left her alone.

Davos took a half step back and straightened when the woman shrieked at him. He knew that sound and how it meant she was very far away from being ‘fine’. He didn’t take her response personally, but he did back off a couple of more steps out of respect for it. 

Though he backed away, Davos would not leave her completely. Leaving someone alone who was in the state she was in would be leaving her open to being targeted by the more desperate people out on the street. A crying, shaking person would lacked the physical bulk to seem intimidating might look like easy prey to someone who might want whatever she had without having to fight for it. She might be able to take care of herself, but he had seen this enough to feel that one shouldn’t have to while in that state.