Jessica laughed bitterly, her body trembling despite herself.
She glanced at Heisenberg with a fierce expression, but quickly fought to suppress it. She didn't want him—someone she trusted, someone she respected—to see her broken side.
But she couldn't help it.
The trauma the Purple Man left in her was too deeply carved into her soul. No matter how much she trusted Heisenberg's power or his promises, the fear lingered like a scar that never healed.
What did Kilgrave do to her?
It was the kind of despair no woman should ever endure.
Kilgrave—real name Kevin Thompson—was a manipulator of minds, capable of bending anyone's will with nothing more than his voice, laced with powerful pheromones that override free will. He didn't need to shout. He merely suggested—and people obeyed.
Back then, Jessica was still fresh in the game, a young hero trying to do good in the world. She hadn't yet become jaded. With her enhanced strength, durability, and agility, she worked under the codename "Jewel," patrolling the streets and stopping crime.
But then, she crossed paths with Kilgrave.
He didn't ask her name. He simply told her to smile, and she did.
Told her to follow him, and she obeyed.
The first thing he made her do was strip. Just because he could. And from there, he made her his. His personal bodyguard, his plaything, his puppet.
Under Kilgrave's control, she did things that shattered her image of herself. He made her hurt people. Made her watch him commit crimes. Made her smile through it all.
She lived like that for months—not knowing where she ended and his control began.
Even after she broke free, the damage remained. PTSD. Depression. Guilt. Fear that he could return at any moment.
She wasn't just afraid of him. She was afraid of herself.
Jessica used to be a hero. Now, sometimes, she felt like a fraud.
But Heisenberg didn't see her that way.
After all, Jessica was still standing. Still fighting. That mattered.
Seeing the pain etched on her face, Heisenberg furrowed his brow in thought. He gently leaned closer, brushing his chin against her temple.
"What are you thinking?" he asked softly. "Wanna go somewhere fun? Clear your head?"
Jessica scoffed. "Where? Your oversized bed?"
Heisenberg just grinned and took off, flying straight toward Earth with Jessica in his arms.
They soon arrived atop the summit of Mount Everest.
The howling wind and biting snow didn't faze them. From up here, the entire world seemed to stretch beneath their feet.
Jessica stared, silently awed.
"Standing here," Heisenberg said, "do you think you'd still be afraid of the Burj Khalifa's roof?"
Jessica smirked faintly. "Are you trying to say you're Everest, and Kilgrave's just a skyscraper?"
"No," Heisenberg replied. "I'm asking if you're afraid of heights. If not… let's go skiing."
"Go to hell."
He chuckled, and for the first time in hours, Jessica's face softened.
Then he took her further—through the clouds, over oceans—until they dove into the depths of the Atlantic.
The sea greeted them with glistening blues, then revealed its hidden darkness.
In a trench deeper than light could reach, massive, ancient sea creatures stirred.
Jessica gasped behind her hand, stunned by the sheer scale of life beneath them.
"How about that?" Heisenberg asked, gesturing at a monstrous silhouette slithering through the abyss. "Does a worm like Kilgrave still scare you compared to this?"
Jessica hesitated. Her eyes were wide with awe… but her nod came slowly.
No matter what she saw, Kilgrave's ghost still haunted her.
Heisenberg sighed. He had hoped this journey might ease her trauma, even a little.
But Kilgrave's damage ran too deep.
There was only one option left.
Find him.
Capture him.
And give Jessica the chance to end it herself.
Or better yet… tie him up, break him down—mentally, physically—and make him feel every ounce of humiliation he inflicted.
Maybe that would help her heal.
Resolved, Heisenberg took Jessica back to New York.
Not to her apartment. Not to his mansion.
To his nightclub—his territory.
He dropped onto the plush leather couch and gently set Jessica down.
"Sit tight," he said. "I need to make a call."
He dialed a number. It rang twice before someone picked up.
"Don't answer while I'm changing the damn dressing—hang up the phone!"
"Shut up," another voice grumbled. "It's the boss!"
Heisenberg chuckled as chaos erupted on the other end.
Then came the unmistakable slap.
A scream followed.
"Alright," Heisenberg said into the phone, amused. "I've got a job for you. Get your gear. We're going Purple hunting."
Scene: A Phone Call and a Reckoning
A voice crackled through the speaker.
"So, you're the boss of Bullseye—the one responsible for what happened to Matt?"
"Erica... Kingpin's last loyal hound," Heisenberg responded coolly, his tone devoid of amusement. "Didn't think you'd be the sentimental type."
As he spoke, Heisenberg reached out and gently tapped Jessica Jones on the head.
"Hey, sit tight here for a bit. One of my 'employees' is acting out."
Jessica raised an eyebrow but didn't object. "Go handle your mess. But hey—if you need backup, I throw a mean punch."
Though her tone was flat, her concern was genuine. Heisenberg offered a rare smile.
"Thanks, Jess. But this is personal. I'll bring back a couple bottles of the good stuff—keep it mellow. Don't get too hammered. I've got a surprise planned."
He tossed a bottle of vintage champagne her way. She caught it effortlessly. By the time she looked up, Heisenberg was gone.
---
Location: Hell's Kitchen General – Intensive Care Unit
Erica stood beside Matt Murdock's bed, fists clenched. She hadn't expected Heisenberg's response—or his speed.
This wasn't like working under Wilson Fisk. Fisk was cold and methodical, rarely emotional. Heisenberg... he was a storm.
Across the room, Bullseye—his face a patchwork of stitches and bruises—grinned through the pain as a nurse adjusted his IV.
"Told ya—boss moves fast. Better kneel now before he turns you into wall art."
"Shut up, Lester," Erica snapped.
But before the words finished leaving her lips—
Crash!
Glass exploded inward, though no one had heard it shatter. Heisenberg was already standing beside Bullseye's bed, one hand still raised from the slap he'd delivered to the back of the assassin's head.
"Still think you're the fastest?"
"Haha, boss—my bad! You got any powers that'll get me outta here faster? I'm itching to work."
"No." Heisenberg plopped down on the foot of the bed.
His gaze turned to the adjacent bed—where Matt Murdock lay unconscious, his head bandaged.
Erica stood nearby, less than five meters away.
"Erica," Heisenberg began, voice even, "I heard you've got a few complaints. Thought I'd stop by."
Before she could speak, he continued:
"You worked for Fisk. Liked the stability, the money. So what exactly is it you're dissatisfied with—me, or the chaos I bring?"
Erica's voice was cool. "It's not that simple."
Heisenberg nodded thoughtfully. "No... it's not. Let me guess. This is about Daredevil. Love, a future, some idealistic vision?"
He stood, stepping toward her.
"Matt will never stop hating me. He's hardwired for it. Righteous to a fault. So tell me—if I give him a pass now, how many more times will I have to?"
Erica hesitated. Then, quietly: "None. You'd never give him another chance."
"Correct." Heisenberg's tone was casual, yet absolute.
"You're allowed to feel things, Erica. But your feelings won't shape the world you want. Not unless you act smart."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping.
"Next time someone's sent after Daredevil, it could be me. Could be Bullseye. Or... it could be you."
Erica stiffened, eyes narrowing.
"I reward loyalty and competence. Fail occasionally? Fine. But show me weakness? That's different."
He backed off slightly, letting the words sink in.
"Fisk gave you status. I offer power. Let's see what you're really made of."
Without hesitation, Erica bowed her head.
"No problem."
She didn't like it—but she understood it. Heisenberg was right: Matt would never stop fighting, and eventually... he would lose. This was survival.
Heisenberg smirked and returned to his seat beside Bullseye, now calm as still water. In Erica's eyes, the wild, reckless man from before had been replaced by something more terrifying: control.
Then—
Thump.
He raised a hand. Erica dropped to one knee, instinctively.
"When your lover wakes, I'll give you one day with him," Heisenberg said. "Then I have a task for you."
His eyes turned cold.
"Find the Purple Man. Killgrave. I don't care if you've met him before. Within three days, I want his exact location."
"S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"They'll assist. But they report to you. Not the other way around. You're mine. And I'm behind you—always. Don't let them twist that."
Heisenberg leaned forward, voice like steel.
"Killgrave's powers are catnip for agencies like S.H.I.E.L.D. I don't want him falling into their hands. Understood?"
Erica bowed deeper.
"Subordinate obeys."