Second Chances

AKA A New Beginning

The only thing Trish could remember from before she blacked out was that she had been fighting Jessica - no, stabbing Jessica in the palm with a knife - but she couldn't remember why. The only thing about that night that wasn't completely fuzzy was her hearing the raven haired woman mutter "This is your last chance." before Trish lost consciousness. Her last chance for what? As far as she knew she hadn't done anything particularly wrong, but Jessica Jones always had something to nitpick when it came to Trish Walker. On the other hand, though, she always had something to nitpick about her adopted sister.

When she was fully awake, the back of her head throbbed against the soft, white pillows of a bed that she was damn sure wasn't her own. Her mouth was dry, and every breath she took felt like someone was sliding large, extremely sharp swords down her throat. She peeled open her eyes, and immediately squeezed them shut at the harsh light that was aggressively glaring down on her. She let out a groan, and tried to sit up. She tried to move her arms to rub her eyes, but she realized that her wrists and ankles were strapped down by thick leather bands. She tugged at them, and hissed in pain as the bands got tighter around her limbs.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." An unrecognizable voice said in a soft tone. As footsteps entered the room, Trish was met by the equally as soft gaze of a small, slender woman. Her hair was as white as snow (though Trish had never properly seen white snow as a New Yorker) and it threw Trish off a little because of how young she was. The woman's eyes reminded Trish of a doe, and despite the happy look, she could see flashes of past trauma flickering in the deep depths of brown. "I'm Dawn."

Trish completely ignored Dawn's introduction as she tugged at the bands around her wrists. "Are these really necessary?" She let out a sharp swear as she became increasingly frustrated at her enhanced strength that wasn't helping her break free.

Dawn raised a dark brow as she watched Trish struggle. "Trish," She paused. "Laurel said you were dangerous, so we had to take precautions." She ignored the fact that the other woman knew who she was even though they never met. She figured Laurel had told Dawn all about her.

At the mention of Laurel's name, Trish huffed out an aggravated sigh. Laurel Lance was Trish's part lawyer-part vigilante best friend, and one of the people who helped her train so she could become the hero that she always wanted to be. She was also part of the reason why Trish was in this unknown place. "She thinks I'm dangerous?"

Dawn chuckled. "I hate to break the news to you," She paused, as if she were contemplating her words, "but you killed two people and critically injured another."

Since Jessica and Laurel wouldn't understand why she did what she did, she had to make Dawn understand. "They were bad men."

"I know." Dawn said. She looked at Trish as she approached, pulling a chair over so she could sit next to the bed. "But you still took the lives of two people."

Trish could feel her anger burning. She had to swallow past the lump that was starting to build in the back of her throat. "They were assholes." She restrained herself from snapping at the other woman.

Dawn sat in the chair, and folded her left leg over her right knee. "If you kill a killer, the number of killers doesn't go down. You replace the other killer. So the amount of killers remains in equilibrium." She reasoned.

That thought had never crossed her mind. She knew she was taking the lives of those men, but she never thought of herself as being a killer. She had thought that she was getting rid of bad men - scum - that were infesting her city. She had watched those men die, she watched the life go out of their eyes and she had felt their bones break under her bare hands, but she never thought she had flown that far off of the rails.