Start a new series of ficlets
Jul. 10th, 2018 07:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missizzyHad the idea right after seeing Infinity War of writing a bunch of fics of how the various surviving women coped with the mess, because that's what surviving women have done throughout history. At the time I was too busy writing "Even If We're Just Dancing in the Dark," and I finally decided to wait until after I'd seen Ant-Man and the Wasp, especially since I had the idea it would kill at least one specific character. Now that I have, here's the first of them:
It started when she heard Oscar screaming his son’s name from her apartment. She hammered on the door, and broke in to find the place empty. It took a little while longer for her to realize what had happened to them.
She actually yelled through Malcolm’s door, telling him to just fucking tell her he was alive if he was, and she’d go away once he had. When she got no response, she told herself not to cry. It’s still not confirmed he’s dead. He could’ve just been out. She’s texted him the same thing she’d yelled, but at the moment, she’s not even sure everyone still alive in the city can get a signal.
She knows she should text Trish, no matter how much she doesn’t want to. But hell, if Trish is still alive, sooner or later she’ll try to get in contact again on her own.
So far, there’s been no time to think about it much anyway, because it was about then the first people out on the street tried to break in. Who knows what they were thinking, or if they were. Jessica didn’t ask.
Hey, she hasn’t killed any of them. She thinks. At the very least, they all limped out of her sight alive.
She’s been standing at the building entrance ever since, watching the rioters and other crazy people run amok through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. The whole spaceship thing from a few days ago had probably left them on edge already, and when apparently there were now people crumbling into dust all over the world, well.
Most of the other tenants still around are all huddled in their apartments. One of them’s going around, making a list of who’s there, and who they can confirm as dead. That’s probably a good thing, that they’ve got someone who can keep their head on straight enough to do things like that right now. There’s one woman standing a bit behind her, watching everything while looking wary.
They can all of them think whatever they fucking want to think. Jessica’s here, and she’s making sure no more of them die today, because today’s the kind of day where you do that. What the hell else can she do anyway?
It started when she heard Oscar screaming his son’s name from her apartment. She hammered on the door, and broke in to find the place empty. It took a little while longer for her to realize what had happened to them.
She actually yelled through Malcolm’s door, telling him to just fucking tell her he was alive if he was, and she’d go away once he had. When she got no response, she told herself not to cry. It’s still not confirmed he’s dead. He could’ve just been out. She’s texted him the same thing she’d yelled, but at the moment, she’s not even sure everyone still alive in the city can get a signal.
She knows she should text Trish, no matter how much she doesn’t want to. But hell, if Trish is still alive, sooner or later she’ll try to get in contact again on her own.
So far, there’s been no time to think about it much anyway, because it was about then the first people out on the street tried to break in. Who knows what they were thinking, or if they were. Jessica didn’t ask.
Hey, she hasn’t killed any of them. She thinks. At the very least, they all limped out of her sight alive.
She’s been standing at the building entrance ever since, watching the rioters and other crazy people run amok through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. The whole spaceship thing from a few days ago had probably left them on edge already, and when apparently there were now people crumbling into dust all over the world, well.
Most of the other tenants still around are all huddled in their apartments. One of them’s going around, making a list of who’s there, and who they can confirm as dead. That’s probably a good thing, that they’ve got someone who can keep their head on straight enough to do things like that right now. There’s one woman standing a bit behind her, watching everything while looking wary.
They can all of them think whatever they fucking want to think. Jessica’s here, and she’s making sure no more of them die today, because today’s the kind of day where you do that. What the hell else can she do anyway?
