{david tennant character oneshots}

(pt. 1) Kilgrave ~ The Ones Who Hurt Us Are Dead

💜🖤💔🌸🌔⚔️🙅🧡💫🖋

Apparently, the universe had decided handing her any sort of luck was taboo and broke every law. Because here was a woman whose claims would upend everything and make Jessica's life even more crappy than it already was.

"So...there's two of you now."

"Not quite," said the woman who claimed to be Sorcha Thompson—formerly Sarah-Bella Thompson and the sister of the man Jessica currently held captive behind a sheet of glass. Jessica was inclined to put Sorcha there, too, but there was something about the way the woman held herself—as if she was terrified of her brother—that stopped her.

"Not quite? How can it be 'not quite'?"

"You'll find I'm on your side, Miss Jones," Sorcha said. "I have no love for my brother. Not anymore. I haven't seen my brother in nearly eight years, Miss Jones. Seven years, ten months, and seventeen days, to be precise."

"You kept count?"

She nodded. "It's monumental, isn't it? Running away from the only thing you've ever known." Jessica felt something click; it was as if Sorcha knew exactly what had happened to Jessica. "My brother meant safety for me, Miss Jones, even if he was...dangerous." Jessica had a feeling Sorcha was going to choose a different word but had changed her mind.

"Psychotic, you mean."

Sorcha half winced, half smiled. "Yes."

Jessica sighed. "Safety?"

"Protection," Sorcha said, shrugging. "Mind control stops many people from doing many things. I'm the mind reader, he's the controller—meant to balance each other, but mind control can't be balanced." She rubbed her arms. "The thing was, I would...sense the threats to me. Hear them, feel them in my mind. He'd make sure the people who thought about harming me didn't. Ever." She looked hard at her feet. "But it got to be too much, too much power for him. He never laid a finger on me for anything. It was the people closest to me he hurt."

"Yeah," Jessica said quietly, "I know the feeling." She cleared her throat, shaking herself out of memories drenched in blood. "So. Why only come forward now?" she asked. "The search for him has been ongoing."

"I saw Hope's file."

Jessica froze.

"I've lived in Ireland since I left my brother. I'm a detective, mind reading makes me valuable when searching for a culprit, and high-profile cases from even America cross my desk on occasion."

Jessica snorted. "How does this classify as 'high-profile'? I've struggled to get anywhere here."

"Ah, well. You're going through either your own means or that of regular police work. I don't. I'm powered, I work for other powered people. There's a special unit of us designed to handle cases like this and to keep an eye on other supers. When one goes missing, it's a problem. My brother's been missing for years. I've searched for him, knowing the damage he can cause. When I saw Hope's file, I found something that reminded me a bit too strongly of my brother. I reviewed your cases, found your story... It has my brother's fingerprints all over it." She massaged her forehead. "And I know what his fingerprints mean now, after Hope's confession, after what she had to go through. So what you had to endure...I'm— I'm so sorry."

Jessica again blinked away memories. "Mind reading. What does that entail?"

"Ah, well. I don't necessarily read thoughts unless I focus. I get impulses, pictures of memory, glimpses into daily lives. One-time events stand out. Guilt makes memories more clear, which makes me an excellent detective. It's why they call me the Confessioner. I can get an accurate confession out of every suspect just from knowing the outlines of what happened. They fill in the details."