Who: Jessica and Yondu What: Yondu helps Jessica burn some dream gifts When: Yondu's place to his junk yard Where: Right after the zombies, late January Warning/Rating: Some references to dream rape and mind-control Status: Complete
There wasn’t really a good time to be infested with zombies, but as far as timing went, they had probably come at the best time for Jessica. While they’d been skulking the street, she’d been able to take out all her rage and fear on them. Fighting for her life was a good distraction from having her mind wander back to the dreams.
But the zombies were gone now, and Jessica was still stuck with a mound of dresses. Expensive, frilly, girly dresses that Jessica would have never been caught dead in if Kilgrave hadn’t made her wear them. Hadn’t made her dress and act the part of his perfect woman. It was sick, and whenever Jessica looked at the dresses, which she had tossed in the corner of her messy room, she could feel the bile rise up in her mouth.
Which is why she’d texted Yondu. She needed alcohol, and she needed a fire, and even if she didn’t tell him why she needed those, he had still come through. She’d crammed the dresses into two large garbage bags, took a cab over to Yondu’s, and knocked on his door.
It had been a helluva week. The first OC event with Peter back in his life and of course the kid had gone missing - leaving Yondu to worry Peter had gotten trapped somewhere amidst the frozen horrors wandering the streets and skies. He didn't even allow himself to think the worst. Instead he'd gone out and wandered the streets looking for him, angrily slaying zombies and such as he did.
Peter had shown up today, as if out of thin air and Yondu had nearly strangled him in response - fear and relief overtaking him. And while he didn't really want to go anywhere much less let him out of visual range, when he'd gotten Jessica's texts he knew he had to help. She'd been there for him when he'd had his worst of the dreams - now he had to do the same. At least he figured her request for beer and a bonfire was as such. He could be wrong, but he doubted it.
He went to the door after the first knock, ready to go with a big cooler full of booze. Kraglin was busy with Pete, Yondu had commanded the dog to stay and watch him.
“Hey, there.” He said with a friendly smile. Noticing the garbage bag he tilted his head. “I take it that's what the bonfire’s for?”
“Yeah,” Jessica said, not bothering with anything as civil as a greeting. “Is it in the back?”
Yondu shook his head. “Not unless you want the Fire Department all up in our business. Best if we do this someplace with less...neighbors.” Closing the door behind him he led the way to his truck. Climbing into the driver's seat he waited for Jessica to get in and stow the giant garbage bag before pulling out. It wasn't until they were on the highway heading out towards the more industrial side of town that Yondu finally said something. “How you do with this monster/zombie bullshit?” He'd been too laser focused on looking for Peter the whole time he hadn't really checked in on Jessica. Considering she was sitting in his truck next to him more worried about burning stuff than anything else he had to figure the woman knew how to take care of herself.
Jessica was glad for the silence, and was content to just glower out of the passenger window of Yondu’s truck, watching the cityscape fly by. When Yondu asked his question, she jumped a little as though startled, and then looked at him.
She wasn’t sure how to answer, really. The zombies had been fine, really, so she answered with “Fine,” and was almost content to leave it at that and go back to staring out the window. But just leaving it there didn’t seem right. “Better than the dreams, at least,” she added.
Yondu raised an eyebrow. So it was the dreams. “Is that so?” He replied as they turned onto the street where the junkyard was. “Must be some crap dreams you've been havin’.” After they parked and he cut the engine, Yondu glanced over at Jessica, at the big garbage bag and then back to her, all business. “Listen, I ain't one to usually ask 'bout somebody's business but…that ain't a body all cut up is it?”
Jessica snorted. “I wish,” she muttered. Her dream life would be a whole lot easier if it really was Kilgrave in these bags instead of the numerous gifts, none of which would have suited her even if she had returned Kilgrave’s feelings. “But if you don’t want to stay, no one’s making you. I can handle it myself from here,” she told Yondu, hopping out of the truck and pulling the bags out of the back. It wasn’t that she necessarily wanted Yondu to leave, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted him there either.
Well then. That was telling. But Yondu didn't let on.
“Darlin’, I got the keys to the joint.” He drawled, dangling the car keys that also held the junkyard keys. “So like it or not, you're stuck with me.” He grinned toothily. He was still in human form so it wasn't quite as menacing and more on the charming side.
He hopped out of the car, grabbed the tote of alcohol, and strode over to the gate. He unlocked the numerous locks on the heavy chains, then pressed a finger against the scanner that was nearly invisible on one of the gates posts. “Ladies first.” He gestured with an outstretched arm and bowed teasingly.
Jessica let out an exasperated sigh, but if she was being honest with herself, there was a small part of her that was glad Yondu was going to stick around. “I’m no lady,” she muttered as she walked past him, but she still went ahead anyway.
She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t see the structure hidden beneath a bunch of scaffolding and boards, and her steps slowed as she managed to get a good look at it. “What the hell is that?” she asked.
“Oh, that’s my ship. From the dreams. The Quadrant.” Yondu replied casually, as if it were a classic car being refurbished instead of a monstrously big spaceship. “Me and Anakin have been fixin’ her up. Tryin’ to figure out when to bring Peter in on the loop.” If he wanted to. Kid might cause more trouble than it was worth.
They meandered through piles of junk, some clearly organized, and some left there for show in case anyone got nosy, which considering the lengths to which Yondu had gone to conceal everything, would require a drone to spy on.
There was a clear patch of just dirt perfect for their needs and so Yondu set the cooler down. In the confines of the junkyard he knew he could turn the image inducer off and just be his alien self, something Jessica already had seen. He hit the button on his wrist and the human hologram winked out, replaced by Yondu's bright blue form. “All right. X marks the spot.” He realized some tinder might be useful, and as this was a junkyard, they were a bit short on wood. But then again…
He whistled, and his Yaka arrow floated from its holster at his hip. He whistled again, a sort of odd trill, and the arrow burst into flame. “Ready when you are, darlin’.” He smirked over at Jessica.
“You got a space ship from you dreams?” Jessica said, more than a little put out. Other than the leather jacket she was wearing now, all her dreams had given her was a hundred pounds of marble sink on her chest, the terrible superhero costume Trish had designed for her in the dreams, a sandwich costumes and… these. These floral print, big poofy nightmare dresses.
She raised her eyebrows, impressed, with the arrow burst into flames, though she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she just opened garbage bag, reached in, and threw a yellow sundressed onto the flames, and prepared the next dress, this one purple, with only one sleeve and expensive.
“Yep. Though it came in pieces. Been a bit of a bitch putting her together.” he replied. “But it’ll be worth it once she’s up and runnin’. You’re welcome to join us when we take her up on her maiden voyage.”
When Jessica finally pulled out of the bags what she’d been carrying around Yondu stared at her and then at the growing pile of brightly colored burning fabric with open shock.
“Dresses?” He hadn’t even considered what Jessica would have looked like in a dress. Just didn’t seem her style. “Ex-Boyfriend? Or did these come from the dreams?”
“They came from the dreams,” Jessica answered. “You get a spaceship, I get a pile of fucking dresses.” Dresses that, every time she looked at them, made her think of Kilgrave, and his fingers on her skin, and his breath on her neck. She had tried to pass off the comment as a teasing one, but she hadn’t been able to hide the disgust in her tone.
The fire was growing, and instead of throwing them on one by one, she threw the flame by the armful. She had hoped that, when she saw them burn, she’d see Kilgrave burning too, but watching it now, it didn’t feel like that at all. They were just dresses, sending up a tower of black smoke.
“Well that ain't right. Sounds downright sexist and all that.” He said, procuring two bottles of beer from the cooler, completely oblivious to the context of why dresses. Jessica was clearly pissed in the sort of way Peter had once described as “hot but homicidal”.
Yondu extended the beer bottle to her. “Wanna get if off your chest?” He was genuinely curious now. He knew next to nothing about Jessica's dreams. She offered no details and he wasn't one to pry if it wasn't any of his damn business. But by the looks of the expression on her face she looked like she needed to do more than just burn stuff.
“Not really,” Jessica said, taking the beer. Her fingers closed around it, but before she could even move to crack open the top, the beer bottle exploded in her hand. She swore, bringing her bleeding hand into her body, tears springing to her eyes. She blinked ferociously, trying to keep them at bay.
“Holy shit!” Yondu swore, and scrambled to find something to help her bleeding hand. Hands searched the pockets of his Ravager jacket, and finding a handkerchief (why was that even in there?) he went over to her to try to bandage it. “Lemme see.” he said, pulling her hand away from her body, inspecting it for any shards of glass. Seeing none, he quickly wrapped it in the clean cloth. “Put pressure on it. I got a first aid kit in the truck. I’ll be right back.” And he ran off, faster than one would expect for a man of his age and size. Returning breathlessly a minute later, military grade kit in tow, he unpacked it and started getting what he needed to clean and dress the wound. “The hell was that? Never seen someone smash a bottle like that. You got some superpower strength from the dreams?”
Jessica opened her mouth to protest, though she stopped herself, and then he was gone. She took the time while he was gone to take a few deep breaths to attempt to calm herself. Kilgrave wasn’t here. He couldn’t hurt her in this life.
She let him take her hand again once he came back, though by now the wounds had already stopped bleeding. It was the first time she had gotten hurt since she’d gotten her powers, and she wondered if healing fast wasn’t one of the side effects. It was nothing as impressive as Logan, but she was sure that normally she’d still be bleeding.
“Yeah,” Jessica confirmed as Yondu cleaned her hand, and then, before she really thought about what she was saying, she said, “it’s why he wants me. The man who gave me the dresses. He… Everything he says… I don’t have a choice…” Why was she telling Yondu this? This was the kind of thing she should keep to herself, the kind of thing that was safer being held close to her chest, but now that she started she couldn’t stop, the words pouring out of her mouth like bile. “He saw me use it, and he knew he could use it. And he decided that he was in love with me, and…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up. You didn't have a choice? Jess, what’d he make you do? Who's this controlling asshole and where's he at so I can tear him a couple new ones?” The cop and the Ravager in him came out in tandem and he was ready for action. He had stopped cleaning her wound the moment she had said she had no choice. Looking into her face he realized she had unshed tears in her eyes. Anger boiled up within Yondu, anger at this mystery man who thought it was okay to control women.
“His name is Kilgrave,” Jessica started, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She hadn’t been able to talk about anything that had happened in the dreams with Veronica, but she felt like maybe she could now. “Whatever he says, people do. It’s some kind of power. And he’s been using it to… to make me… So that I’ll act like I love him.” So that she would love him, because when Kilgrave told Jessica to love him, when he told her to enjoy the expensive and lavish meals he had prepared for them, she had no choice but to obey.
Yondu was scowling deeply. That was a very fucked up power to have and abuse. He went back to finishing cleaning her wound. “He here? Or this just in the dreams?” He took gauze and started wrapping her hand in it, trying to be as gentle as he could manage, all the while struggling to keep his anger at bay.
“In the Dreams,” Jessica said, not quite able to bring herself to say ‘just’ in the Dreams. It was too real for her to try to ignore it in that way. Even when she was awake, she could sometimes hear him whispering to her. And while it meant that here she was safe, it also meant that there was no one there to help her.
“Hmn,” Yondu growled. He would have liked the chance to kill the bastard, but took some solace in the fact he wasn't here. It meant Jessica was safe from his influence, though clearly he could see the dreams were torment regardless.
“Well, least he ain't here.” He inspected the bandaged hand, then looked up into her face again. The terror and hurt were there, just behind the angry look Jessica usually had on like a mask. He wanted to say something, anything to make it better, but no words came. He just held her hand in his before realizing the silence was stretching a bit too long. He let it go and broke the look. “Won't need stitches but it's gonna need time to heal. Might need some butterflies though. Have to pick some up on the way back.” He glanced over at the pile of dresses, now just a pile of black, charred fabric amongst the flames. “You got any more you wanna pile on?”
“I’ll be fine,” Jessica said, not sure if the wounds on her hands would be but feeling like it was likely. She definitely didn’t want to have to make any stops on her way back though, not ones where she might have to actually deal with another human being. She shoved both her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.
“No, that was all of them,” she said. At least, it was all of them for now. She’d gotten them all at once, but if her dreams kept going, if she was going to be under the control of Kilgrave for the rest of her life… well, maybe more would come.
“All righty. Then I guess I best put this thing out.” Yondu looked about for what he could use to put the fire out with. His eyes scanned the junk around them, all random bits and pieces of metal and rubber and just...junk. “Hm. No fire extinguisher handy, ain't got no shovel for the dirt…” He really should have thought this through better, he realized.
Jessica frowned and scanned the junkyard. Not far away sat a rusted old car, the front end smashed in and the hood propped open at an angle from whatever ancient collision had lead to it getting dumped in the junk yard in the first place. She walked over to the car, and grasped both sides of the hood, wincing a little as she closed her bandaged hand around it.
With a grunt of effort and the scream of rusted metal, she tore the hood from the car and moved it over to the fire, smothering the last of the flames, and stepped back to glance at her handywork. “That work?” she asked Yondu.
Yondu gaped at her. Did she just…? His eyebrows raised and a smirk crossed his features. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.” He procured a flask from his jacket and handed it to Jessica before picking up the cooler. “Finish it.”
Jessica just gave looked at Yondu askew when he mentioned not getting on her bad side. He should have figured that out ages ago, even before he found out about the super strength.
“You don’t need to ask me twice,” she said, and poured the rest of the flask down her throat. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to butter me up,” she added with a near hint of a smile, handing the empty flask back to him.
Yondu wasn't the sort to be intimidated by anyone and the look Jessica shot him just made him chuckle a little. It grew to a grin as she downed the last of his whiskey. Taking it from her he replied, “Whatever gave you that idea? I'm a perfect Southern Gentleman, just sharin’ his whiskey with a thirsty woman.” His drawl in full effect as he said it.
Jessica lightly bumped her shoulder against Yondu. “Thanks,” she said. Maybe burning the dresses hadn’t been quite as cathartic as Jessica had thought it had been, but if Yondu hadn’t been by well… it would have been less so.