[46] SOS

Chapter 46: SOS

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Morning light crept through the Rust Bucket's windows like a thief, stealing across my face and dragging me from the best sleep I'd had in weeks.

My body felt different. Stronger from the Blitzwolfer transformation, sure, but there was something else. A warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with alien DNA.

Last night’s... battle had left me drained… but not just physically.

I stretched on the pull-out couch, joints popping in that satisfying way. The RV was quiet except for Grandpa's gentle snoring from the driver's seat. He'd passed out there after staying up late tinkering with some Plumber gadget. Classic Max.

My eyes drifted to the back where Gwen's bunk was. Empty. Huh.

I padded toward the tiny bathroom, expecting to find her hogging it as usual. Nope. Kitchen area? Also empty. That left...

I found her curled up in her actual bunk, buried under what looked like every blanket we owned. Even from here, I could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead. She was shivering despite the mountain of covers.

"Gwen?" I kept my voice low, not wanting to wake Grandpa.

She groaned, pulling a blanket tighter around herself. "I told you, you bastard... Told you not to go Four Arms…!! You always overdo it." Her voice came out raspy, like she'd been gargling gravel. Although we initially went normally, things got a bit too spicy for her when I clicked down on the watch and she passed out immediately…

“Oh no, my bad,” I laughed. Maybe the strain of yesterday’s transformation hit her harder than I thought.

"Hmm? What was that, kids?" Grandpa's voice drifted from the front with a yawn, groggy but curious.

Gotta be careful with our words. "Nothing, Grandpa! Gwen's just saying she feels sick. Told her not to eat those weird berries yesterday."

"Ah, that'll do it." I heard him moving around, probably getting ready to check on her. "Those looked like winterberries. Pretty, but they'll give you a nasty stomach bug. I'll go tell Jean and the others we might be delayed."

The RV door opened and closed, leaving us alone. I grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cool water before sitting on the edge of her bunk. She looked small under all those blankets, vulnerable in a way that made me worry. It was cute, though.

"See?" she whispered as I placed the cloth on her forehead. A tiny smile played on her lips despite everything. "This is your fault. I’m not built for all that alien… nonsense."

"Worth it, I’d say," I whispered back, letting my thumb brush her cheek. The skin was too warm, flushed with fever. "I'll take care of you. Promise."

Something in her expression melted at that. "You'd better.” Her eyes went soft, that sharp intelligence temporarily replaced by simple trust. “I'm holding you to that."

I sat there for a moment, just watching her. In the morning light, with her defenses down, she looked younger. More like the cousin I grew up with, it reminded me just how much we’ve both changed—

My phone buzzed.

I almost ignored it. Whatever drama was happening in the world could wait. But habit made me glance at the screen.

Jewel ?: EMERGENCY!

It was an emergency SOS sent in a hurry.

The blood in my veins turned to ice water. No. No no no no no.

Killgrave. The Purple Man. It had to be him. Why now of all times?! The one villain I'd been actively dreading since remembering my past life. In the comics, in the Netflix show, he was Jessica's personal demon.

The man who'd taken everything from her, broken her in ways that—

I was on my feet before I realized it, already reaching for the Omnitrix.

"Ben?" Gwen's voice was confused, maybe a little worried. "What is it?"

"Gwen, I'm sorry." The words came out flat, mechanical. I couldn't let emotion in right now or I'd lose it. "I have to go to New York. Jessica's in serious trouble."

"What? Ben, wait—"

But I had already clicked down on the watch face. Green light flooded the RV as my body stretched and reformed. My spine elongated, limbs narrowing into something built for pure speed. The world shifted into slow motion as XLR8's enhanced perception kicked in.

I caught one last glimpse of Gwen's face—shocked, feverish, hurt—before I was gone. The RV door barely had time to swing shut behind me.

The landscape blurred past in streaks of color. Trees, rocks, other vehicles—all static obstacles in my high-speed world. I pushed harder, the bio-boosters in my legs screaming as I exceeded their recommended output. Didn't matter. Nothing mattered except getting to New York in time.

Yellowstone to Manhattan. Over two thousand miles. For a normal person, that was a day's drive or a few hours by plane. For XLR8 running at maximum speed?

Twenty minutes, I think. Maybe less if I really pushed it.

I really pushed it.

****

Everything had been fine today.

The sun was out, which was rare enough for New York in general. Her coffee from the bodega on the corner had been decent—not good, never good, but decent. She'd even managed to stop a mugging without breaking more than one of the guy's ribs.

A good day, for a change.

Jessica tossed the groaning thug into a dumpster with a satisfying clang. He'd been trying to rob some college kid at knifepoint. Now he'd be explaining to his buddies how a woman half his size had folded him like bad origami.

"Maybe try a different career path," she called over her shoulder, already walking away. "I hear Uber's always hiring."

She turned the corner onto 42nd Street, fishing her phone out to check the time. Maybe she'd grab lunch with Trish, or see if Ben was—

"That was quite impressive."

The voice was calm, cultured, with just a hint of an accent she couldn't place. British, maybe? Jessica looked up to find a man in a simple but impeccably tailored purple suit standing on the corner. He was smiling at her. Not leering, not threatening.

Just... pleasant.

Huh, that’s weird.

"Thanks," she said, instantly wary. In her experience, well-dressed men who complimented her fighting skills usually wanted something. "I try."

"You have a real gift for helping people," he continued, taking a step closer. Not aggressive, just conversational. Like they were old friends catching up. "It's rare to see someone use their strength so selflessly."

Jessica's danger sense should have been screaming. Some part of her brain was trying to, like an alarm bell wrapped in cotton. But his voice was so reasonable, so sincere.

"You know," he said, tilting his head slightly, "I think you and I should get to know each other better. Come. Join me for a coffee. My treat."

Say no. Walk away. Call him a creep. Punch him in his smug face. All perfectly reasonable responses.

Instead, she heard her own voice say, "Sure. That sounds nice."

The disconnect was immediate and terrifying. Her mouth had moved, words had come out, but she hadn't chosen them. It was like being a passenger in her own body, watching through her eyes as her legs started walking beside him.

What the fuck what the fuck what the—

"Wonderful," he said, and she could hear the satisfaction in his voice now. "I know a lovely place just around the corner."

…..

The coffee shop was a blur. She remembered sitting across from him, remembered his questions about her life, her powers, her friends. She remembered answering, honestly and openly, the words pulled from her throat like he was mining for gold.

Now they were in his apartment.

How had they gotten here? When had she agreed to this?

The place was minimalist, expensive, and utterly devoid of personality. White walls, white furniture, white everything. The only splash of color was his purple suit, which he hadn't removed despite being home. Killgrave, the Purple Man, as he called himself.

"You're a remarkable woman, Jessica," he said, pouring two glasses of water from a crystal decanter. "So strong, so beautiful, and so fun to talk to... I think I'd like to see all of you."

He turned to face her, and his expression was different now. Hungry. Possessive.

“Take off your jacket.”

The word hit her like a sledgehammer. Her hands moved immediately to the button of her jeans, fingers working with mechanical precision. Inside her head, she was still screaming. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. She was strong, she was a hero, she was—

Ben.

As her hand moved past her pocket, she focused every ounce of willpower she had left. Just one tiny movement. Just her thumb, pressing against the side of her phone. The emergency macro Ben had insisted on setting up with that frog alien of his.

"Just in case," he'd said with that cocky grin. "You never know when you might need backup."

Please be the macro button. Please don't be the volume. Please please please—

The phone vibrated once. Message sent.

Now all she could do was hope he'd get it in time. He was in Yellowstone with his family. Even if he transformed, even with his speed, it would take hours to get here.

“Hm?” Killgrave stood up, taking a step toward her. “I think I just heard a sound. Was that your phone?” He asked, looking into her eyes. He reached out his hand. “Give me that.”

Jessica didn’t want to. But her hand moved and she placed the phone in his hand. He frowned, staring at the screen. “You really are impressive, Jessica,” he said. “To be able to do this despite being—”

"Jessica!"

A voice shouted from outside the door. The voice was distorted, mechanical, but unmistakably Ben's. H-he’s here already?! Killgrave’s head turned to the side just in time to see the apartment door explode inward, torn from its hinges like tissue paper.

In the doorway stood something she'd seen once before.

The creature was sleek, almost reptilian, covered in black skin with blue highlights. Its head was aerodynamic, built for speed, with a visor where eyes should be. It moved with barely contained energy, like it was vibrating at a frequency just outside normal perception.

Killgrave jumped back. His composure cracked for the first time. "You! Stop!”  he sounded nervous. “Walk out of here and throw yourself off the nearest bridge!"

The alien froze. Jessica's heart plummeted. No, no, this is bad. I shouldn’t have called for him. If Ben falls under his control too, then… Jessica’s mind raced with guilt and pain. To her surprise, Ben spoke freely.

"I find that airborne pathogens are ineffective against my Kineceleran physiology," the creature said, its voice crackling with electronic distortion. "Especially when my helmet provides a hermetically sealed environment. Nice try, though."

Wait. Pathogens? His power was a virus?

Killgrave's face went pale. "J-Jessica, stop him! Kill him!"

Jessica would never. He was the only person other than Trish who she cared for with all her heart, and she loved him. She’d never hurt him. No, she wouldn’t. And yet, her body moved instantly, lunging at the alien with all her enhanced strength. But it was like trying to catch smoke. The creature sidestepped her effortlessly, moving so fast he left afterimages.

"Sorry about this, Jess," he said, already across the room. "Be right back."

What happened next took less than a second but would be burned into her memory forever.

Ben grabbed Killgrave by the throat, fingers wrapping around that purple tie. “Y-you, stop it! Is it money? You want money, women, or what?! I’ll give you everything!” Ben didn’t care. He just moved. Not fast but impossibly fast.

He dragged Killgrave's face along the concrete wall at what had to be supersonic speed.

The sound was wet and grinding, like someone running meat through a cheese grater. When Ben stopped, Killgrave's face was... gone. Just exposed bone and shredded tissue where features used to be. The body dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

The moment Killgrave died, Jessica felt the strings cut. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed, staring at the corpse. At the blood. At the casual brutality of it.

Ben didn’t stop there. “He has some kind of healing factor, might come back from death,” he said, pressing his wheel on Killgrave's neck. Then he sped up the wheel, staring down as the neck cut clean off, the head rolling on the ground.

Jessica stared in shock, trembling, as Ben reverted to human form, green light fading as he rushed to her side. He looked different now, taller, more muscular, but it was undoubtedly him. Ben Tennyson. "Jess? Are you okay? Did he– did he hurt you?"

She swallowed hard, eyes shaky, her throat raw from screaming she didn't remember doing. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine... Thanks to you." She looked up at him, seeing the concern in those green eyes. "Let's get out of here."

"I want to, but this is troublesome." He gently let go of her and moved, peering out the destroyed doorway. He pointed to a small red light blinking on the hallway ceiling. "Camera caught you entering with him. Caught me arriving. Even if they can't identify my alien form, you're on tape with a dead man. You'd be the prime suspect."

"Oh… then what do we do?" The reality of the situation was starting to sink in. She was in a murderer's apartment. With his corpse. After being seen entering willingly.

Ben gave her a reassuring smile, the kind that usually preceded him doing something insane. "Don't worry. I got it handled."

He hit the Omnitrix again. This time, his body seemed to melt, becoming a flowing mass of green and black biomechanical circuits. The liquid metal being poured itself into the camera's wiring through a tiny gap in the casing.

"Data loop established," his voice came from the camera itself. "The last five hours of footage in this entire building will now show an empty hallway and a quiet apartment. Let's go."

He flowed back out, reforming into Ben, and then into his speed demon shape. Before she could process what was happening, he'd scooped her up and they were moving. The world blurred into streaks of color and light.

Seconds later, they were in her apartment. Safe. Alive.

The adrenaline finally crashed, leaving her shaky and exhausted. She slumped onto her couch, staring at her hands. They were steady. Why were they steady? She'd just watched someone die. Been controlled like a puppet. Nearly been–

"Hey." Ben sat beside her, back in human form. He looked tired and worried. The reason for her survival. For her relief and calmness. "You're safe now. He's never going to hurt you or anyone else again."

"Yeah well… you killed him." It wasn't an accusation, she didn’t mean it like that. Just a fact.

"Yeah." No hesitation, no justification. Just acknowledgment.

"Thank you."

They sat in silence for a moment. Outside, New York continued its endless hustle, unaware that one of its monsters was dead.

"How did you know?" she asked finally. "How did you get here so fast?"

Ben pulled out his phone, showing her the message. "You sent an SOS, and based on how I set it up as Greymatter, it sent me your exact location too. I was in Yellowstone, but..." He shrugged. "XLR8's pretty fast when he needs to be."

"You came from Yellowstone. In five seconds? For… me."

"Less than five, actually." That cocky grin was back, but there was something softer underneath. "What are friends for?"

Friends…? Right. That's what they were. Friends who had really great benefits sometimes, but still. Friends. Is that everything he thinks of me?

"Ben?" She leaned against his shoulder, suddenly exhausted. "Thanks for setting up that emergency thing. And for... you know. Saving me today."

His arm came around her shoulders, warm and solid and real. “I told you, didn't I? You always have me as a backup.”

They stayed like that for a while, two people finding comfort in shared silence, one relieved to have survived Killgrave, and the other relieved he could save her. Outside, the city moved on, unaware that it had one less predator and one more guardian angel.

Even if that angel sometimes had a face made of speed.

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