1963-09-20 - Smile
Summary: After weeks of tracking and legwork, Remy and Trish catch a break, yet Kilgrave is more powerful than either of them had imagined. Fortunately, so are his prisoners.
Related: Le Fluage Pourpre
Theme Song: None
trish jessica gambit 

Whether the car is stolen or not, Trish can't be sure.

They sit behind the dash of a beat up Chevy and look down the road at a huge white house that looks out onto the sea here on Long Island. They got here through a hot tip. One would think that all of the money and time spent searching for Jessica and Bella Donna, and all of the people who were on the lookout, would have finally come to fruition somehow.

But that's not how it happened.

Some little old lady who happened to be in the city (and who also lives down the road) happened to see both Jessica and Bella Donna out swimming with a gentleman who very clearly was not Mr. Phillip Masterson. The old lady believed that the three had been living there for quite some time.

The little old lady also remarked that Jessica looked very pale. And Bella Donna should not show so much skin.

The little old lady was about to add something else before Remy just hung up. He called Trish, "obtained" a car, and before one would know it, the pair are out here. At sunset.

From this vantage point, it looks as if the trio are having dinner atop a deck that sits on the second floor.


The relief was near instant when Trish learned that Remy had gotten a tip regarding Jessica and, of course, Bella Donna. Sure, she isn't sure whether the car is stolen or not. If they get in trouble for it, she'll just pay off a fancy lawyer to try to get them out of trouble. For now, her main concern is her adopted sister and Remy's ex-wife.

She fidgets in the seat of the Chevy, glancing up at the house. Every so often she sighs, her foot tapping the floor at irregular rhythms. She can't help it, she's antsy! If they've got a chance to save them? She wants to make sure they take that chance!

"When are we going to go in and get them?" She whispers, almost as if she's afraid they can be heard from the car.


Sitting across from the man that is not Mister Phillip Masterson, Jessica Jones is very pale indeed. Her eyes have become increasingly haggard looking — with deep circles outlining them — with the light increasingly dying inside them. The mischief and hopefulness that had once resided there has been replaced with something nearly empty. But her smile, with its dimpled, ever-extended motion, causes its muscles to ache in nearly constant complaint.

Her hands fold gently in her lap in front of her as she leans towards the other two in her party. A glance is given to the very purple nearly-too-short dress that covers her corm. Her shoulders are completely exposed thanks to the incredibly scandalous dress she wears — not that she really seems to care.

The heels on her feet are incredibly un-Jessica and pinch every time she steps, not that she reacts. Instead, she lives as a perfect dark-haired Barbie. Dress her. Take her anywhere. She does whatever is tasked of her.


"Soon, Trish. Soon." Remy's eyes never leave the deck, so he's in a good position to watch as Killgrave stands and makes his way over toward Bella Donna. His stand was abrupt; did he notice something was up? In any event the monster begins to whisper something in Bella Donna's ear as he wraps an arm around the front of her stomach.

And this is simply too much for Remy LeBeau to bear. "Now, Trish. Now."

Before he even knows what he's doing, he's out of the car and heading across the great green expanse of field, walking briskly right for it!

If he didn't see them before, Killgrave certainly sees them now. Bella Donna excuses herself, somewhere for something and he turns his cold brown eyes upon Jessica. "Some sorry excuse for a Prince and Princess charming, don't you think?" He sighs, irritated like someone who received a call during their favorite television program. "Quick," he snaps. "I want to know everything about both their powers."


Rubbing her eyes, Trish shakes her head. She's glad she's here, but she's not use to waiting. Not under these circumstances anyway. Shooting the same scene over again? Sure, no problem. At least she's doing something. Her gaze turns back toward the deck in time for her to see Kilgrave wrap an arm around Bella Donna.

When Remy tells her to go, she goes. She wears sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt today, instead of her normal clothes. She wanted to be able to move quickly, with a little more ease. Catching up with the southern gentleman, she matches Remy's pace and keeps at it, her eyes locked on the deck.


The movement prompts Jessica to turn to face the people coming. "Prince and Princess Charming," Jessica agrees simply with a vague turn of her lips. The demand for knowledge has Jessica spouting off facts about Remy LeBeau and Trish Walker. "Remy has this," her eyes narrow, "ability to explode things. All kinds of things. Like some kind of energy movement thing." She's sketchy on the details. As for Trish: "Trish Walker has no powers to speak of. She's charming, charismatic, and can run better in heels than any other woman I've ever known, but no powers."


"Very well. Let's go to meet them," Killgrave says with an evil grin. Surely he saw Remy in the car from the distance. Surely he set up the move on Bella Donna to flush him out. And flush him out he did. "Come along, Jessica."

The pair waltz through the home with the air of people who have lived there for some time. They avoid the basement door, where Mr. Phillip Masterson is downstairs counting the speckles on the concrete.

And they reach the door, just as Trish and Remy arrive near the front door.

"Greetings Mr. LeBeau and Miss Walker! I have dinner already if you are interested in joining us!"


"Dinner? Ha!" This is definitely not an amused laugh from Trish. "I don't believe we've met, sir, but as you can see," she motions to her clothes, "I certainly not dressed for being entertained. I was more hoping I could talk Jessica into having a nice dinner at my place." She pauses, tilting her head, "Or, I suppose, dessert. We haven't had any good sister-bonding time lately, and I really would like to spend some quality alone time with her."

Looking to Jessica, she extends her hand slightly, in the faint hope that she'll take it. "What do you say, whiskey floats at my place?"


The smile on Jessica's face remains, tight, dimpled, present, pained. Her eyes seem empty, glazed over, absent. Jessica Jones, while there, tucked away somewhere behind that visage, is distant. There but not there. Strong-willed, yet lost. And well within Kilgrave's command and power. Her head cants to watch him at Trish's reply.

Her will tries to assert itself, but Barbie's life is plastic. Her lips want to move. Her feet want to run away and follow Trish away from this place. But without a direct order telling her not to speak, instead she offers, "You should go." Because she needs Trish safe. Always.


"Go?" Killgrave can't help but laugh. "On the contrary, Trish. Come with us. You, me, and Bella Donna will get to know each other upstairs. Did you know they have a hot tub?"

He holds his arm out for Trish. "Come here."

Bella Donna stands at the entrance way in her pink, skimpy dress that is all the fashion here in the early 1960s. For anyone looking at Remy, his eyes are trained upon his ex-wife, and then on Jessica in quick succession.

"Y'aint gettin' 'way wit dis. You should let dem go and do us all a fava'"

Killgrave, almost as an afterward, flicks his head towards Remy and orders Jessica. "Kill him."


Shaking her head, with her hand still out, Trish says in a soft tone, "I'm here for you." But then a strange sensation comes over Trish. When she's told to come with them, and to come to Kilgrave, she does so. She does what she's told. Without question. It's almost like she wants to do what he says.


Mental resistance tugs on Jessica's mind, but her strength doesn't hold out. Instead, she walks towards Remy and forms a solid fist to deliver a quick punch to Gambit's gut. It's by far the least elegant method, and quite possibly, the most readily available to brunette Barbie.


Remy almost doesn't even hear Killgrave's command, nor does he realize what it might mean. He's too focused on losing Trish and, as he sees Bella Donna, ready to go back upstairs with Killgrave, he realizes the full extent of what she and his friend have gone through, and what she, and his other friend, are about to through.

He never even sees the punch coming. But he sure as hell feels it.

So many broken ribs. Remy can't remember feeling this much pain ever before in his life. As he falls and grovels at her feet, he reaches out to touch one of those nice pumps. Even as he spits blood upon the ground, the high heel begins to shudder with purple energy!


A little gasp emits from Trish as she looks over Jessica punching Remy. "No." She whispers. This wasn't the plan. This isn't how it was supposed to go! Sure, she didn't think it was going to be easy, but there's something wrong about this. Very wrong. Just like when she saw Jess destroy the building. She looks at Kilgrave with a furrowed brow. What's happening?


The energy that courses through the high heel takes but a moment and a small shift in Jessica's weight to have it do its work. Purple energy lights up the object to go with Jessica's dress in a near-perfectly matching hue. The shoe, in all of its painful glory erupts with pure light energy at the shift in the woman's weight.

And inertia knocks Jessica clear off her feet to be plastered along the front entrance. The crashing thud that follows her body's creamed fall, pushes her into the ground, leaving a very obvious indeed in the wooden floors. Every ounce of her being ricochets with the fall, granting her separation from what she's just done.

She tried to be a hero.

And now she's become something else.

Her body recoils, and if she weren't so durable, she would be, likely, down for the count.


Bella Donna and Trish each stride up the steps with Killgrave's arms over them. He's played this perfectly, drawing Remy out. So perfectly in fact that the idea that Jessica won't thrash him with ease never really enters into his mind.

He's far more interested in Patsy Walker and adding another victim to his roster.

Remy straightens and catches Bella Donna's eye as the latter looks over the shoulder worriedly with a sour look of worry and despair upon her face.


"Where are we going?" Trish asks of the man. After all, she wasn't told that she could talk, or ask questions. "Will…will Jessica…" She chews on her lower lip, concern written all over her face.


The words continue to roll over Jessica's minds, and the more time passes that Remy has in his lungs, the more they sear her consciousness. Kill him.

Kill him.

Kill him.

The words uttered reach a level of obsession that enters into Jessica's entire psyche. Her body trembles as she comes back to a stand, straightening with a level of vengeance reserved for those who have wronged her. In this case only one thing matters: Kill him.

Her feet make purchase with the floor, and her knees bend. With the full force of whatever momentum she can gather through a combination of strength and flight, she lunges at Gambit, her hands reaching out to connect with his mid-section with whatever energy she can garner from every muscle in her body.

There is no mercy. There is no relenting, just the simple words that govern her with one mission and one mission only:

Kill him.


Bella Donna hates him, but she loves him.

Not Killgrave. On the inside, there is nothing but hate for the man who has tormented her these past few weeks. But she hates Remy too, but she loves him.

As she takes another step she can't shake the feeling about when her and Remy were kids and he saved her from attack. That's how they first met. Him saving her from a group of thugs. Little did either of them know then how important they would be in bringing together, and then ultimately destroying the truce between the two houses of the Thieves and the Assassins.

The link to Romeo and Juliet was never lost on either of them.

As she watches with horror, knowing that in the end, despite having tricks up his sleeve, Remy is no match for Jessica, she realizes that the push to go upstairs—the mental hold that this purple creep has had on her is no longer there. She takes a false step, and then pulls from Killgrave in one motion out of his grasp and down the steps.

Remy goes skittering across the marble floor and collides into the wall in a heap not knowing what sort of damage the strike did to his internal organs.. As Jessica approaches he knows he is pretty much done for. Mentally, he prepares himself to die knowing that despite always having the upper hand and always holding out for one more trick, this is likely his last hand of cards.

Jessica reaches back, choosing a final shot that will surely break his skull and releases the punch at super-speeds.

The punch lands true, but not upon the chin of the Cajun from New Orleans, but on the side of the head of his one-time bride who was lunging in to save him. Blonde hair splashes with red as her skull crushes immediately. Bella Donna's life is extinguished before she falls into Remy's body, staining him with blood.


Part of Trish can't believe any of this is real. And yet, there it is, all happening in front of her eyes. She wrenches her head to try to look behind her as Bella Donna frees herself and runs away. As she dives, Trish does the only thing she can think of…close her eyes and look forward. She can't look, she can't leave his side. She can only move foward.


The force wakens something in Jessica. She stands over Bella Donna's body, mouth gaping at the red mess that stains both the Ragin' Cajun and his Juliet. Her shoulders twitch with a tremble she can't quite identify. But as she trembles, she realizes something has broken. For weeks she's developed a hatred for the man on the stairs. Her ire had grown. For weeks she'd resisted him at every turn to no avail.

Bella Donna's sacrifice breaks the control in her mind. Yes, she can hear his voice urging her to do whatever he wills, but somehow she finds distance from it. She finds herself muttering something to give her a sense of place. "Jones," she mutters under her breath. "Jessica." A name. Her name. Spoken by her lips. Out of her own volition. She mumbles further. "485 W 46th st. New York. New York." Her address. Her home.

She stares at Remy and her body wills itself to reach out to him, but she can't. Not yet. Her jaw tightens. Her lips twitch. Trish is upstairs.

She swallows hard, stills her shoulders, and turns on her heel as she forces her lips into that omnipresent smile. With a small bounce in her step, she treads up the stairs to join Killgrave and Trish Walker.

But as she reaches the pair, she sidles against Killgrave.


Nonplussed, Killgrave turns around. "Jessica! You killed the wrong damn one of them! Jesus! Go kill Remy right now! What is the matter with you!"


Trish's eyes light up as Jessica returns. Maybe everything will be all right now? Or not. Why is he so demanding? Why did she want to do as he demanded though? It's all so strange!


"I did kill the wrong one," she agrees grimly as she stares into his eyes one last time. In a single movement, Jessica grasps Killgrave's body in one hand by his chin. The smile on her lips has been replaced by a sneer, a demonstration of complete and total disgust for the man that she lifts. Every flicker of her eyes, twitch of her face, and tension in her body reflects her ire. There's no mercy, no compassion, and no hope that somehow this man can 'get better'.

"Smile," And with a single, very hard yank, her other hand twists his head. Killgrave's neck snaps with a resounding crack and Jessica drops him to the ground.

And the moment he's down, she releases her grip, leaving him to the stairs as she motions for Trish to go downstairs. Ordinarily, she'd reach for Trish's hands, but not today. Possibly never again. Her shoulders begin to shake. "You need to help Remy — " she sniffs loudly as the tremble can be felt in her grip. " — NOW!" Because everything Jessica touches, she breaks.


The long view down the steps has Killgrave's dead body, clad in purple across the tops of the steps, head turned impossibly back across itself. Down at the bottom of the steps, in a pool of blood, Remy holds Bella Donna, his head resting upon her still complete forehead as he weeps.

EPILOGUE: Within a few hours, and in an odd show of unity, the Assassins and Thieves band together to 'take care of the job' and bring their girl home for a proper burial. It's sometime later that they find Masterson, locked down in the basement.

From there, Remy LeBeau is as good as gone for the next week or so, allowed back to New Orleans during the truce, and to attend Bella Donna's funeral. He stays at home, to save money of course. The home doesn't feel the same. So he burns it to the ground.

Sometime after that, there's a knock at Jessica Jones' door. He waited until he knew she was home. When she opens the door, he says nothing. He just hands her a bottle of cheap whiskey. The implication is clear and they begin to drink.


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