JONES.

Fisk is like, barely my circus. It’s more of a systemic injustice anyway. He’s been locked up like, who knows how many times? And I fight the system every day, so.

You’re just sentimental, and sometimes for the wrong people.

What does a steamy make out session have to do with standing up to injustice?

You know, forgiving him just like, perpetuates that the behavior is okay. I hate that ‘they’ve changed so it’s okay now’ shit.

You know, I could like, write something up. I’m on a lot of forums.

Not to mention the coverup. I guess you could alter the message however you want running a popular media outlet like that. Guess you could write your involvement out too.

Well, and that’s the problem with people and money. It just turns them fucking evil.

…PI brain working overtime here.

The guy from the Bugle? Where’d he get that kind of funding? They sell papers, sure, but not enough to fund supervillain creation. Skimming wouldn’t go unnoticed either.

Jamison is somewhat wealthy outside of the paper business, but again, not that wealthy. It was just him? No benefactor?

Oh, yeah. You’re totally at a disadvantage, Jess. What the fuck?

She doesn’t let her being entirely out of her depth show on her face though. She’s calm, collected, maybe a little stern.

“Yeah, I know it. You tell me your version, though.”

Totally lying.

She blinks. Is she at a disadvantage? She doesn’t feel like she is. Maybe she is then. What would someone really smart say?

“All of it.”

Nailed it.

Your used tissue?

Wow. My parents just stayed dead. People really like cloning shit and building shit to fuck with you. I wonder why that is.

“No, I know. I’m like, really good with faces.”

Part of the whole PI thing. The things that get stuck in her brain…

I like details.

“Right, well, I’m…I guess you already know.”

That’s not new. A lot of people just seem to know her. She chalks it up to being good at her job and hopefully nothing else.

Man, what the fuck?

I’m not. You have clones. I have…what I have.

Staring. Face all scrunched up like that’ll make her recognize this lady. Nope. No bells rung.

I’m getting a headache.

Your what.

Why were you roasting your clone daughter? Who the fuck cloned your daughter? That’s some seriously sick shit.

Just.

The what. Who?

The what.

“My hero.”

The sarcastic tone is more than obvious as she sets down her empty bottle.

“Sure do. Keep ‘em coming.”

Gross.

< don’t text you back and I’m like, constantly in some fucked up shit and you never know if I’m going to show up or not?”

< boarding on an epiphany, but she’ll likely be a little to stubborn to acknowledge it. If she never finishes the thought, it never happened. Can’t rely on you to make me better, I have to make me better. Yeah, no.

“You’re telling me you like this?”

She gestures at herself.

“The drinking and I >

< of her cheek again. Coppery tang of her blood on her tongue. She frowns.

“It’s not just dark. It’s a bottomless pit, Peter. You can’t flashlight or pull your way out of a bottomless pit. A-and that’s not fair to you either! You know? I don’t…I can’t rely on you to make me better.”

This is >

< the first she’s heard that from him. She isn’t sure how much merit she can put to it though. He’s saying it without seeing the whole picture. He doesn’t know what he’s saying it to.

“It should. I mean, it does. I just…I’m like an anchor, in the bad way. I’m cement shoes.”

Chewing the inside >

< cases that remind her about that shit she went through. Too many girls, too many creeps. Maybe it’s put her in a spiral. She could just…not take the cases, but if she doesn’t, who will? She can’t do all the good he does in a costume. She has to do it with her case work.

She blinks. Definitely >

< Like he can see all the shit she sees in herself, and now he knows it’s there.

Maybe he is fucked up, but he holds himself together quite a bit better. It’s not a competition, but fuck, only one of them wakes up with whiskey breath. It’s not him.

And maybe all this is derived from too many >

He doesn’t know the half of it. There’s a reason she hasn’t told him, and he better not have asked around about it. That’s her shit to tell. It’s just…hard to talk about. Especially to someone who apparently thinks so much of her. The last thing she wants is for him to look at her all…different. >