#jjs3

“i’d say this sets a new low, even by your standards.” erik shudders to think about what kind of burgers they’d serve in this place.

the woman behind the bar gives him the stink eye before grabbing up a dirty rag to wipe unconvincingly over the edge of the bar counter.

“yeah, well, my standards are, got bourbon?” jessica swipes his second glass, knocking it back with a straight face this time. “makes it easier to avoid disappointment. besides, i’m here to meet a friend.”

erik smiles. “have we officially made it to friend status now?”

she half-smirks, half-rolls her eyes at him. “who said i was talking about you?”

the bell over the door gives a jingle, and erik feels – he’s not sure what he feels, at first.

it’s not darkness, not exactly, not even the customary static or pain. it’s a low hum, strange and sad and entirely unsettling. the closer it gets, the more erik’s eyes feel like they’re burning, and he has to blink several times to clear away any moisture.

“you made it,” says jessica.

erik turns.

it’s a woman, blue-eyed with long blonde hair past her shoulders, who puts out her hand to him and says, “hi. karen page.” she turns to face jessica. “sorry i’m late.”

“you’re not alone, i take it,” jessica says. she jerks her chin past erik’s shoulder.

he turns again.

there’s someone sitting with his face half in shadow, glowing an eerie-deep red under the bar corner’s dark lighting. it’s the guy who’d given erik the grey vibes earlier, but as he stands erik starts to realize there’s something else familiar about him. something he can’t quite put a finger on.

his hair is closely shaved at the sides, eyes glinting almost black. mouth set in a firm line as he strides over to them, and erik hears that same humming sound, though maybe a half-octave lower, filling him from either side now.

“what do you feel?” mutters jessica under her breath at him.

“i…honestly don’t know.” erik frowns in thought, watching as the man approaches. and then he says, even though it makes absolutely no sense, “kind of like my heart is breaking.”

jessica doesn’t have time to do more than look at him strangely, because suddenly the guy is standing right here, and then, as he moves a hand to karen’s back, the humming—

just—

stops.

karen leans into him for a moment, the guy turning around to brush a kiss – maybe more – to her ear. she looks more at ease with him there, and he looks – well – intimidatingly expressionless as ever. but erik feels nothing but silence from them, still and calm and peaceful, and it’s…unlike any aspirin he’s ever taken.

he’s so caught off guard that he almost fails to register more introductions are now being made.

“this is pete,” says karen, at the same time that the guy’s muttering a very gruff “frank,” and jessica, point-blank, is stating to him, “you’re the punisher, aren’t you.”

it’s not even remotely a question.

“oh. shit. that…explains it,” says erik, rubbing his temple. “i think.”

“you ever heard of the raft?” jessica asks abruptly.

karen page swallows, and says, “yeah. yeah, i have. i'm…really sorry to hear about your sister.”

“i’m not,” jessica tells her, voice like cold steel.

“hey,” says erik, going for comforting, but she doesn’t seem to have heard him.

jessica looks at karen and says, “i’m getting her out.”

“you’re what?” says erik, looking to the others for backup, but karen’s not paying attention to him either, and pete – frank – fuck, the fucking punisher – only gives him a semi-irritated glance before looking away.

“and i’m either going to need to help, or i’m going to need a damn good lawyer.”

“both, more than likely,” erik says, disbelieving.

jessica ignores him again. “either way—”

“luckily, i work with two of the best,” karen tells her without missing a beat. “and i may or may not be dating someone who’s had experience breaking out of prison before.”

“pure speculation,” says the punisher, utterly deadpan, and erik nearly chokes on his water.

karen says, “i can’t make any promises on their behalf, but—”

“look, if anyone knows…” jessica pauses. “if anyone knows what it’s like to—” and jessica jones of all people is not one to beg for anything, but there’s a hint of imploring in her tone, a tinge of i’ve-had-it exhaustion.

“i know,” is all karen says, as she takes the punisher’s hand.

“this is absolutely insane,” erik interrupts. “you know it’s insane, right?”

“maybe,” says jessica. “are you in?”

eriks thinks of an ice pick piercing his skull, the warm gush of blood from his eyes. he looks at jessica, grim but with her mind made up, and the thought of everything that she’s lost cuts through him even more.

“all the way.”

the punisher speaks up again, sounding like he has a throat full of gravel. “she capable of being saved, or whatever you want to call it to help yourself sleep better at night?”

“frank,” murmurs karen, and he heaves a deep sigh, looking at her with an expression only she seems to know how to read.

“maybe not.” jessica glares him dead in the eye like a challenge. “it’s either going to be me, or i’m going to die trying. and i can’t not try.”

the punisher’s silent for a second longer, and it’s heavy with a kind of dreadful anticipation, like staring down the barrel of a gun.

he turns to karen. “murdock’s going to take some convincing.”