#coupdevoix

Luke’s footsteps could be heard down the hall as he emerged in the doorway.  He paused there for a moment, looking at Jess hunched over her work.  “Jessie, your side of the bed is cold,” he chided in a low, rumbling voice.  “C’mon, this can’t wait ‘til morning?”

“I’m getting close.  He’s... he’s desperate, or testing something.  He keeps compelling more people for longer, if these reports have all their numbers correct,” she muttered, not bothering to peel her eyes from the screen.  Jessica took a sip of her cold tea, frowned, and put the mug down quickly.  “I just have to find out what he’s going to try next, what stunt-”

A harsh buzz on the granite was quickly followed by Jessica’s phone screen lighting up.  One message from Trish.  Buzz.  Two messages from Trish.

>> Hey Jess

>> Check the news.

Jessica’s brows drew together in confusion.  Taking her phone in one hand, laptop in the other, she pushed past Luke towards the den.  She put her appliances down on the coffee table and picked up the remote, flipping for the news channel.  She was still learning the numbers of the channels, not having had a proper television for quite a few years until now.  “Wait, wait, there,” she muttered as she saw the feed of helicopters over Morningside Park.  

It was late, far later than anyone should be gathered in a public park.  Through the searchlights she could see crowds of people amassed in one spot.  But around what?

“Oh no, no,” Jessica said, clapping a hand over her mouth.  Luke stood beside her, watching the screen but not catching what had surprised her.  Weakly, Jess pointed a finger at the jostling footage to a very small, but very distinct purple figure standing apart from the crowds.

The marquee at the bottom of the screen offered very little explanation, as the reporters couldn’t exactly tell what was going on.  But Jessica knew.  This was it- this was what he’d been testing himself for.  From what she could see, a crowd of about two or maybe three hundred people- civilians mostly- standing in haphazard rows, waiting for his command.  God knows what he’d already told them to do.  Maybe they would kill each other.  Maybe they would cause a riot.  And worse, maybe they would come for her.  Even those stupid fucking news crews were in danger the longer they stayed around.

Absolutely chilled, Jessica stood transfixed in horror as the scene played out- or rather, didn’t.  What were they waiting for?

Just then, her phone rang.  Again from Trish’s number.  Jessica picked it up hastily.  “Trish, I’m watching and he’s-”

“Hello, Jessica.”  The voice on the other end of the line wasn’t Trish, but it was all too familiar.  And if the call came from her sister’s phone...

“What the fuck have you done to Trish?” Jessica demanded harshly, her heart beating fiercely.

“Now, now,” Kilgrave chided.  “There’s no need to take that tone with me.  I have your sister here, and she’s fine.  In fact, she’s better than fine.  Much more obedient than you ever were, Jessica.  Perhaps I chose the wrong sister?”

Jessica’s mind began racing- how fast could she be out of here and get to the park?  Was this all a trap?  How did he get Trish, and how did he get so many people under control at once?  Clearly, whatever he’d been trying to do to improve his influence was paying off.  But it didn’t matter- every second she left Trish with that monster was a moment of life that the other woman would never get back.  And Jess had learned lately that every second was precious.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, come now.  If you have to ask, you haven’t been paying attention.”  He paused and Jess thought the line might have gone dead, but then he spoke again, accent cloying in her ear.  “We’ll be waiting for you to make your choice.  You’ve got an hour, Jessica.”

An hour was far too long to leave those people standing there, in the harsh, late night.  And Jessica had already made her decision long ago.  She hung up the phone without another word and threw the thing down on the couch, pushing past Luke to grab her jacket and boots from the bedroom.

“He has Trish,” she panted, tugging up her boots frantically.  Luke followed her, giving her space as she bent at the waist, only slightly impeded by her burgeoning stomach.  “This is it, Luke.  I... I don’t have a choice.  This has to be it.”

“Then let me come with you.  Lemme call Danny, you call Matt, we’ll get the gang together and we’ll stop him,” he offered, already knowing what stubborn Jessica Jones would say.

“No, I can’t risk him getting any of us,” she said, shaking her head.  “Besides, I want to believe whatever psychic bullshit Jean Grey put into my brain... it’ll be enough.”  She grabbed her jacket and tugged the sleeves on.  Jessica ran back to the front room, grabbing her phone from the couch, fingers trembling as she stuffed it in her back pocket.  This had to be it, but what was it?  So many variables she couldn’t know.  And she was fucking terrified.

Jessica stopped at the front door, looking back to Luke in his boxers.  God, she wanted to curl up in bed with him.  To act like this wasn’t the very possible end of everything she’d worked so hard to build for herself.  To go to sleep, curled at his side, loved and safe and warm and only waking up occasionally to pee because pregnancy was stupid.  No night terrors, no thoughts of failing to face her greatest fears, her greatest foe.

“Luke, if something... if something happens to me, call Murdock and tell him to come to Morningside Park.  No matter what, you need to stay out of his reach, okay?”  Jessica could tell that Luke’s heart was in two places on this one.  He so badly wanted to come with her- not for his own heroics, but to protect her.  Support her.  But he also knew the terror of losing control, and if Kilgrave had that many hundreds of people in his thrall, there was no way Luke Cage was going to be able to stand apart.  And Jess couldn’t risk Kilgrave using him against her.  Or worse.

She shook her head and without another word, slipped out into the night, leaping up to a nearby fire escape to make her way across the rooftops.

---

It took Jessica about eighteen minutes running and leaping at top speed across the rooftops to make it into range of the park.  The news helicopters still circled, and it was a wonder they hadn’t been threatened off.  At least, if they were safe in the air, it was one less thing for Jess to worry about.  The last thing she needed was a kamikaze pilot under Kilgrave’s influence.

As she drew near enough, she lowered herself to the street and stood there, hands on her thighs, panting.  She quickly checked her phone- no breaking updates in the report, so that seemed good.  But nothing with Kilgrave was ever as it seemed.  Putting her phone back into her pocket, Jessica put a hand on her stomach, which fluttered as she caught her breath.  She couldn’t sense the baby’s movements yet but she had to trust everything was okay in there.  A little cardio never hurt, did it?

She was well within her hour, but Jessica knew Kilgrave would grow impatient waiting for his latest plaything to arrive.  The woman steeled herself in the cold night air and proceeded on foot at ground level.

Approaching the edge of the park, she was met by a throng of bodies, standing soldier-like at attention, facing the base of the Charles Schurz Memorial.  Jessica couldn’t see over the sea of heads, but if she was a betting woman her money would have been on Kilgrave- and Trish- waiting there.  And that would be the worst if she was lucky.

At the sound of her footsteps, one of the heads closest to her- a blonde young woman she didn’t recognize- turned and clued in to her arrival.  Like clockwork, the hundreds of other bodies spun around to face her down, and Jessica had to step backwards at the oppressive weight of their collective stares.  She didn’t know what Kilgrave had told them to do, but watching her seemed as good a guess as any.  The silence was deafening, save for the rotary hum of the helicopters above.

“Jesus, fuck,” Jess muttered as she dared to step forward, fists clenched.  She moved slowly, fearing that they may have been told to attack her, or attack one another.  No one seemed to be holding any weapons- that, again, seemed like a good sign.  Too many good signs in this nightmare scenario.

Silently, she weighed the exact amount of force she would have to use to knock out any of these civilians if they attacked her.  Jessica knew where to hit and just how hard to put them on the ground in the least concussive, least damaging way.  She always knew that much, but now she was preparing to exercise it.

As she approached, the people parted just enough for her to pass through.  The crowd was still trained on her, their eyes following every step.  She stepped into the cleared path, and the bodies moved in behind her to close her in.  “Really?  The theatrics,” she muttered, trying to get any one of them to react.  How long had they been here before she’d turned on the news?  She was met with nothing but laser focus.  Jess shuddered, remembering what it was like to be inside of that, watching the world, trapped in your own mind.

Kilgrave’s command had never been strong enough to work on more than a small handful of people at a time.  How did he have this many minds under such strict control all at once?

Walking further into the sea of bodies, Jessica began to double take, seeing what she imagined were familiar faces.  Just beyond the cold stare of a beautiful Native woman whose features were sharp with focus, Jess spotted Peter Quill.  There was no recognition or familiarity in his stare, just icy determination.  She so badly wanted to bring herself to smile, just to assure him things would be okay.  But she would be lying to herself and to him, and she couldn’t shake the abject terror that gripped her completely. So she kept walking, slowly at first, then with more determination.

She could see Kilgrave’s head over the legions of people, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement.  Jessica moved forward, noticing another familiar gaze in the throng of people parting to let her through.  Her eyes widened, and Jess threw out a hand.

“Kate!  Kate, no,” she shouted, reaching for the girl and shoulder-checking an older gentleman to move him out of the way.  Claw-like hands gripped Jessica’s jacket, pulling the neck and restraining her.  “Fucking get off of me!”

“No,” a stranger’s voice said.  The tone was robotic, practiced.  “You’re wasting time, Jessica.  Leave her.”

Jessica struggled, wresting hands off her jacket as the crowd backed off and returned to their positions.  “Oh, so you freaks do speak.”  She knew better than to test them again, but...

Her heart sank.  Jessica would personally take on every one of these people if it meant getting Kate to safety.  Taking her away from all of this- the girl must have been breaking inside.  Standing in a park, late at night.  Assaulted by the mind manipulations of the sick and twisted man they both hoped would die.  Well, Kate might have to watch it happen, if Jess got her way tonight.

As she passed, she turned, not touching, to speak to the girl.  “Kate, I’m sorry.  I’m going to make this right.  I’m so sorry.”  There was no assurance in her stare.  No confirmation of understanding, no acknowledgement that she heard or even believed Jessica.  Just blank focus.

The investigator practically shoved the rest of the crowd out of the way as she marched to Kilgrave standing at the base of the memorial with Trish kneeling beside him.  To the opposite side of her sister, Jess spotted that strange eye-shaped sculpture the Bugle had written about months prior.  It had been reported stolen on New Year’s Day, just after their fight with the ninjas and Typhoid Mary.  So why did he have it?

“You depraved, maniacal bastard,” Jessica barked as she stormed up the steps, stopping short at the closer sight of her sister.  Trish’s eyes were glistening, piqued pink in the corners as if she’d maybe been crying.  Kilgrave wouldn’t have let her, but it was just so cold out that maybe the stinging night air had that effect on her anyways.  Jess only turned her head briefly to see the army of bodies behind her all take a few steps closer in unison- the only way out of here was up in the air now.

Speaking of, the floodlights of the helicopters were obnoxiously bright, illuminating the scene.  Kilgrave’s teeth shone as he cracked a large grin at Jessica’s arrival.  “Well, Jessica,” he crooned, patting Trish’s hair like she was a housecat.  “Your sister and I were beginning to think you wouldn’t show.  Well, I had my doubts but she... she seemed so sure you would rush in and save the day, hm?”

His laughter curdled Jessica’s blood and she had the urge to rip off the hand that was touching her sister.  The Purple Man was uncomfortably confident now that the investigator had stepped into his game.  Jess balled her fists at her sides and tried to slow her breathing before she flew off at the handle.  She had to figure out his angle first, or else any ‘kill yourself’ or ‘kill each other’ fail-safe commands could turn the night into even more of a shitshow than it was already shaping up to be.

“So, Jessica, why did you come here?  To be a hero to dear, sweet Patsy and all of these innocent bystanders?  Or did you have some other delusions?”

His grand, sweeping gesture at the crowd made her shoulders tighten.  Something inside of Jessica tugged, from her chest towards Kilgrave.  She wanted to tell him her plan, just so he could know what he had coming to him.  So she could wipe that stupid, smug grin off his face.

In the back of her mind, the flaming words ‘Fuck You’ appeared.  Oh god, that was Jean Grey’s psychic trigger going off.  There was no way his powers were getting to her now, unless... That sculpture at his feet worried her.

“I’m waiting, Jessica.”

She swallowed.  Over the distant din of the helicopter, she raised her voice from a whisper.  “I’m here to kill you.”

Kilgrave paused a moment, brows knitting together.  Then he shook his head.  “Oh, well then.  I could have guessed that!”  He looked more amused than she would have liked.  His next words were painfully deliberate, testing the bounds of his persuasion.  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Here Jessica grew confused.  She hated the superheroic monologuing of so many other crimefighters- Captain America and his speeches, She-Hulk’s quipping, even Daredevil’s self-righteous shit.  But now, she felt like this was her moment.  Her moment to exact revenge for everything he ever did.  To her.  To Luke.  To Kate and Peter and everyone standing behind her.  To Trish, the one person she always thought she could keep safe.

But was she telling him these things because it was what she wanted to hear? Or it was what he had told her to do?  Jessica’s heart beat even faster with fear.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m pregnant,” she admitted.  “And it’s Luke Cage’s.  And I’m more loved than I ever have been, and killing you is the last step to ensuring that I have a future that I can look forward to.”  Saying the words felt good, whether it was what she wanted to tell him or not.

At that, Kilgrave looked visibly crestfallen.  Only just slightly.  He stuffed both hands in his suit jacket pockets and sniffed.  “Well, that explains the bit of a gut you’ve got going on right there.  I didn’t want to be rude and say something, but, seriously.  Jessica.”  He tutted and looked around at the scene he’d created here.  He looked past the investigator into the crowd, drawing out the moment.  Why didn’t she just kill him now?

“Jessica, it is... so sad that you have to lie to yourself like that,” the Purple Man continued.  “You really are so damaged.  Which is a shame, because you’re such a lovely jewel.”  He sighed and Jessica took a step forward, which she regretted instantly.  Kilgrave straightened, putting a foot to the eye sculpture.  Was it going to shoot lasers?  What the fuck was it doing here anyway?

“But you always were a bit of a daft bitch,” the British man spat quickly.  “You just don’t get it, do you?  I’ve hardly had to use any power to get you here, Jessica.  Just wait until you see what I’m prepared to do.  This beautiful little piece here- and I don’t mean your sister- is a very powerful relic.  That controls minds.  With it, there’s not a soul alive that could resist my commands.  Not even you, my jewel.”

Jessica wanted to believe he was bluffing, but that confidence, that ego.  That was more than she’d ever seen from him.  He didn’t know about what help she’d received from Jean Grey, but up against that relic, she wasn’t sure it would matter much here.

“All I ever wanted was you,” Kilgrave continued.  Trish shivered by his side in the cold air, and Jess so badly wanted to give the woman her leather jacket.  “I gave you everything I could, and it still wasn’t enough.  And then that damned Luke Cage couldn’t even get a job done right and then what?  He takes you from me?  And you’re having a fucking baby with him.  Augh!  You know you’ll never really be happy.  I know you, and you’ve never had it in you to love anyone.  Not even yourself.  Certainly not a baby, disgusting little thing.  Maybe you care about your darling Trish here, but you couldn’t even protect her now.”

“I’m going to make you regret touching her,” Jess practically growled.  “You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”

The Purple Man compelled Trish to stand, which she obeyed.  Jessica stood rooted to the spot simply out of fear.  She had to gauge the right moment to make her move without ruining everything.  Why wasn’t he using the eye on her?  Was he afraid it wouldn’t work?  Or was he scared it would be too easy?  Kilgrave bent down and picked up the relic, which was sizable in his arms.  “If I can’t have you, then I will be damned sure you never forget me,” he threatened.

Jessica steeled herself against whatever unimaginable horror he could speak into existence next.  Her heart was practically in her throat by now.

“Go on then, Jessica,” he said, the bright lights glinting off the sculpture mystically.  “If you’re going to kill me, then get on with it.  Be the big sodding hero you always think you can be.  But remember, killing one person is an accident.  Killing two people makes a habit.”

Kilgrave stood, staring at her relentlessly.  Jessica could feel the eyes of three hundred strangers boring into her back.  He was going to make her do this in front of an audience.  Make her ruin her own life by doing exactly what she wanted to do.  And a small part of her didn’t want to go through with it any longer, but she felt that she had to.  Was he really compelling her, even now?  With the use of that artifact?  Or was Jessica finally taking her chance to do what she knew she had to?

How was it that she had all the power, but he still had complete control?

Numbly, she walked forward.  The crowd walked with her.  They closed in until there was only a small perimeter of space between her, her sister, and the suited Englishman.  Jessica shoved Trish back gently, keeping her out of the way.

As Jessica approached, she could see the disappointment in Kilgrave’s glance.  The sadness in his eyes.  This was a losing battle- but why was he giving up the fight?  The man was heartbroken, knowing he’d lost his chance with Jessica for good.  It made her even more furious.

“Hey, asshole,” she said, squaring her shoulders.  Before he could respond, she gripped him by the jaw and lifted him up, just as he’d made her do unto others dozens of times before.  Jessica could almost recall the smell of the burning oil on the grill at the teppanyaki restaurant in the cold night air.  Her fingers squeezed tightly on his neck, the veins in his face turning...purple.

“Smile.”

With her off hand, Jessica quickly grabbed his skull and snapped his neck with determination, dropping his body to the pavement in a muffled thud of purple suit fabric.  The eye sculpture fell from his arms and clattered as the metal hit concrete.  A massive shudder ran through the gathered crowd as three hundred people suddenly, slowly regained their faculties.  It was like a great sigh was exhaled as people began to come to clarity, seeing themselves in the park, gathered around a dead man’s body.

To be sure he was truly dead, Jess knelt down and checked for a pulse.  Nothing.  For a moment, she imagined this was one of his mind games, maybe a trick he was playing now that she was under his control.  But it felt real.  Horrifyingly real.

Sirens howled all around the park perimeter as law enforcement arrived, as if they too had been waiting for the spell to break.  Jessica wanted so badly to check on Trish, but a gruff voice urged her to stay down.  She slowly lifted her hands away from the body, putting them over her head.  There was no fight left in her.

She’d done exactly what she set out to do.  So why was she still so afraid?

“You have the right to remain silent.”

Her arms were twisted into cuffs and Jessica was pulled upright, led to a police car with flashing lights.  She didn’t resist.  

She saw detective Knight arrive with another squad, and the woman gave her a disdainful but confused look as Jess was more or less pushed into the back of a vehicle.  The dark-haired woman tried to search the crowd for a sign of Kate, Trish, or Peter.  Anyone familiar, anyone who could provide a friendly embrace, a reassuring word.  Nothing.  Just cops moving in to mark the perimeter of the crime scene.  There was no way they could reasonably question all these witnesses.  And they practically had Jessica dead to rights.

“Luke,” Jessica breathed, looking into the man’s eyes.  She found a pained recognition there.  A kindness she didn’t deserve.  Her own eyes lingered there, trying to remember that feeling before it too went up in a cloud of black smoke.

“A bus driver didn’t kill your wife.”

She could feel Kilgrave’s leery gaze on her neck.  This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?  It wasn’t enough to destroy Luke’s bar- Kilgrave already knew the man was indestructible.  But this... this would ruin him inside and out.  

If they weren’t already in such extreme danger, and if Jessica’s ribs weren’t fractured, she would have taken on every bodyguard and limey bastard just so she and Luke could share one untainted moment.  But that wouldn’t happen.  Not since she saw the picture of Reva in Luke’s wallet.

“Luke, that night... Reva was with me and Kilgrave, she... had something he wanted.”

Jessica felt a large hand clamp at her shoulder and she shoved it off.  A sharp pain coursed through her torso and she had to spit it out.

“I killed your wife, Luke.  Kilgrave made me, the bus swerved out of the way not to hit her.  She was dead before she hit the ground.  Luke, I’m sorry.”

Another hand grabbed her and she swung around, fists balled in a wild fury.  Jessica panted hard, seeing that overly pleased sneer on Kilgrave’s face.  She spat at him, the saliva lost in the destruction and heat of the scene.

“She’s dead because Kilgrave wanted her dead.  I never wanted...”

Jessica had never wanted much.  Only the impossible.  Her family alive, her sense of control back.  Luke; she had wanted Luke and apparently even that was impossible.  Her lungs felt like lead in her chest, which burned in agony as her muscles trembled, trying to keep her standing on two feet.  Her head had sustained a terrible blow, and she wasn’t as indestructible as Luke.  But he sure looked like a broken man now.

Kilgrave got what he came for.  He could leave now.  Jessica would have done it herself, tossing him into the bay, but she looked back at Luke and the world filtered into her senses with radio hall reverb once more.  Everything slowed except the intake of smoke.  She dropped to one knee.