The talk of Halloween. A holiday she'd never been a fan of, but found herself enjoying the massive amount of candy output loomed in her near future and with it a whole bunch of memories she wasn't ready to face again. Truthfully, she had more to worry about here, more at stake, considering everything Natasha had told her about the amber and what it could do to you if you touched it. More so, it was centered around what the other woman had seen that when she'd made contact with their arrival ships or whatever the hell they were called. She'd seen a person that could not just kill someone, but wipe them in an instant. Like they were never there. That entire conversation had given Jessica a lot to think about and even if it had been a month ago, that didn't mean she'd sorted much of it out. There were still so many questions lost in the here and now on top of her memories and the people she'd left behind. Still so much she wanted to know and yet knew that it would be a difficult task to unravel it all at once.
Martian's Merit offered somewhat of a sanctuary for that sort of thinking and it was where she was huddled up tonight. Alone at the bar, straddling a bar stool, and looking down at the contents of her latest glass of whiskey, the brunette had more than enough to think about, to consider, and yet her mind slipped backwards instead of forwards. She knew she should be happy; unless someone actually did a search for her, no one would ever know who Jessica Jones was or what she was capable of. She could finally be forgotten, lost in the crowd, a face, and without the pressure that Trish always put on her shoulders...to be a somebody. Not just a somebody. A hero. No, here, she could be Jessica Jones without the rap sheet that was a mile and a half long, without the consequences of her mother's horrible actions or her own, and without Trish's excuses. And yet, it was all she could think about tonight. All that floated around in her mind.
She lifted the glass to her lips and in a smooth motion downed the rest of the contents. A fingerless gloved hand raised and motioned with a subtle wave for the bartender to return. He'd be making the trip a lot; Jessica Jones had a lot to forget even if there was little to remind her of it here. He refilled the glass, no eye contact made, and Jessica was tempted to flip him off simply because she felt like it. Instead, she took a sip of her whiskey. Someone that could make people disappear in an instant. It was finally the only thing that had given her pause to think of Trish Walker in any other manner besides anger and hate. Could she actually be okay with losing Trish for good? She may not deem her family at the moment, but could she be okay with that? Part of her felt like maybe she could, maybe she could be okay with that, but the other half knew it was impossible For all the shit, Trish had always been there. Even if the last time had been to kill her mother.
No. She couldn't be okay with that.