AKA Letter || Solo
summary: jessica writes a letter to trish
trigger warnings: death (obvs), implied past abuse, suicidal ideation, nothing graphic
trish,
you goddamn promised. you swore i wouldnt lose you.
but i guess we’ve broken a lot of promises to each other over the years. like when we were sixteen, and i promised i wouldnt let your mom find out about that party you threw when she was gone. but at least then i was there. i stopped her. kept you safe.
im sorry. christ, trish, im so goddamn sorry. and if you could actually read this stupid bullshit pointless letter, you’d tell me i have nothing to be sorry for. but i do. i heard it, i heard you say my name, and i wasn’t there. i wasn’t there to be the hero you wanted me to be. the hero you always thought i could be.
idk if i can. idk if ‘heroes’ are supposed to write letters like this on a legal pad, with hands that wont stop shaking. (idk if thats bc i havent had a drink since that night or if its... shit.) idk if heroes are supposed to be this goddamn screwed up. you werent. whatever you mightve thought. i know you, i know you still thought you’d never be good enough, that you never quite got her voice out of your head (i know how hard that is, too, how loud they can be). i know you wanted to save all those girls, all those people suffering and lost, because you were still so ashamed of what you went through. but it wasnt your fault. it never was.
i dont think i told you that enough. idk if a thousand times wouldve been enough, bc jesus, how many times did you tell me reva wasn’t my fault? that hope wasn’t? or ruben or wendy or his parents, or him. and i never believed you. i didnt listen. you were trying to pull me out of the water, but i was too busy drowning myself in goddamn pity.
christ, i still am. but im trying, trish. i really am. im sorry, sorry i was too -- whatever, stubborn or stupid or blind, sorry i didnt do this earlier. im not drinking anymore. trying not to. i know it bugged you, but we didn’t talk about it. i used to downplay it around you, believe it or not. i didnt want you to know what a goddamn mess i was.
you probably did anyway. you knew everything about me, even when i couldnt say. christ, theres so much i didnt say. so much i didnt say enough.
i love you.
im proud of you.
i missed you too, all those months you were missing me.
you were my hero.
you still are.
i googled this twelve steps shit. i didnt remember them from when you used to go. but this one, this thing about a ‘higher power?’ thats one ive always had an issue with. but this one site, it said a higher power doesnt have to mean god. it can mean ‘recovery itself’ or the meeting, or your support system -- whatever you need it to mean.
my higher power is you, trish. it always has been. i ask myself all the time, what would trish do? you were always so much better than i was, better at comforting people, better at being a person. hell, you were a better hero than i was too. you had the heart for it. you believed in it, more than i ever did.
but you believed in me, too. and thats going to have to be enough, at least for now. bc im gonna be the hero you wanted me to be. im really gonna do it. im not wearing the stupid costume, i still say jewel is a stripper’s name... but im gonna do it. shit, i might even use the name. just for you.
im gonna find who did this to you. and im gonna do what you wouldve done -- im gonna do it right. im gonna make it right, trish. you deserve that. you deserve so much more.
you know the one thing i never told you, about kilgrave? (his name isnt so goddamn terrifying in my head anymore. his ghost doesnt even goddamn matter.) he got me pregnant. right before the bus crash. i didnt even know at first, but i figured it out. and i took care of it myself, made the appointment, because i couldnt look you in the eye and tell you about it. i’ve never told anyone, but i especially couldnt tell you. bc i know somehow, you would’ve found a way to make even that okay, you probably wouldnt have even been mad that i lied to you about why i was so goddamn sick back then. you always knew exactly what to say. im gonna miss that.
im gonna miss a lot of shit.
i used to think those street names, main street, birch street, higgins drive, cobalt lane, that those were the only happy memories i had left. but they weren’t. i had you, too. sitting on your couch and throwing popcorn at the screen. growing up with you, breaking god knows how many of your hair brushes. the way you used to look at me whenever i showed up on your balcony. that little smile like you were trying to be annoyed, but you really goddamn weren’t. the way we used to pretend id eventually buy you dinner one day. how you kept fixing my door, even though it’d just be broken again two weeks later. listening to you on the radio. falling asleep on the couch, in the middle of gone girl for the thousandth time.
i’d give anything to watch it one more time with you. i’d stay awake the entire goddamn time.
but that’s just what if, if only. and i know how pointless that game is.
thanks for trying to put me back together. for never giving up on me, for always giving me whatever i asked for. for being there, that night on the docks. for driving me around in your car and not caring when i bled on the seats. for wrapping my ribs and tucking me in on your couch, and for never letting me throw my life away completely.
thanks for being the best goddamn sister i could’ve asked for.
i love you.
im still pissed that you died, but i love you. so much.
maybe i’ll even take your other bit of advice sometime. maybe after this is done, i’ll let myself be happy. it’s hard to imagine that without you. you should be here for it.
your sister,
jessica jones