"You're an asshole," Jessica snapped ten minutes later.
She was sitting on the edge of the sofa, glaring at Raizer with a mix of fury and lingering confusion. The pout on her face was prominent. For a woman who could punch through concrete, she looked remarkably like a disgruntled teenager who had just been told she was grounded.
"You don't joke about being dead to someone who just woke up in a room with a missing door," she grumbled, rubbing her temples.
Raizer ignored her indignation, leaning back against his counter. "You're alive, the purple lunatic is gone, and you owe me for a door and a mahogany table. Let's call it even on the emotional trauma."
At the mention of Kilgrave, Jessica's posture stiffened. The anger vanished, replaced by a raw, sharp terror. She looked around the room frantically, as if expecting the walls to turn purple. "Where is he? Did he... did he get away?"
"S.H.I.E.L.D. took him," Raizer said, his voice dropping to a low hum. "But you don't need to worry about the pheromones. I didn't just knock him out. I coated my strike with Chi and sent a localized shock through his entire central nervous system. I short-circuited his brain. He's in a permanent vegetative coma. He won't be talking or commanding ever again."
The silence that followed was heavy. Jessica stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. For years, Kilgrave had been an unstoppable monster in her mind, a shadow that owned her soul. And this man, this rude freak, had just... turned him off.
Then, the dam broke.
A ragged, choking sob escaped Jessica's throat. She doubled over, her hands covering her face as years of suppressed nightmares, guilt, and trauma came pouring out. It wasn't a 'movie cry', it was ugly, loud, and messy.
Raizer watched her from across the room, his expression one of pure, unadulterated disgust.
'Crying people look so awkward,' he thought, taking another sip of coffee. 'Their structural integrity of the face just collapses. This is why I prefer the Dungeon. Monsters just bleed; they don't do... this.'
[HOST!] The System screamed in his mind, its text flashing a bright, judgmental red. [DO SOMETHING! She's a broken soul! A tragic hero! Don't just stand there looking like you're watching a boring documentary on tax law!]
'She's getting salt water on my floor,' Raizer countered mentally.
[CONSOLE HER! HUMAN INTERACTION IS A REQUIREMENT FOR A KING! GO!]
Raizer let out a heavy, weary sigh. He set his mug down and walked over with the stiff, mechanical gait of a man heading toward a firing squad. He stood in front of the sobbing woman for a long beat before awkwardly patting her shoulder with the tips of his fingers.
"There... there," he said, his voice devoid of any actual comfort.
Jessica, seeking any anchor in the storm of her own mind, lunged forward. She buried her face in Raizer's chest, sobbing into his clean, white dress shirt.
Raizer's face contorted into a deep frown. He felt the dampness of her tears—and worse, the unmistakable feeling of a snotty nose—being rubbed into the expensive fabric of his shirt.
"My dry cleaning bill," Raizer whispered to the ceiling, "is going to be astronomical."
After Jessica finally cried herself into a state of total exhaustion, her breathing slowed into the heavy, rhythmic cadence of deep sleep. Raizer, feeling more drained by the emotional labor than by the actual fight, hoisted her up and carried her into his bedroom. He dropped her onto the mattress, pulled the duvet over her boots—he wasn't about to touch those—and retreated to the living room.
He spent the night on the couch, staring at the ceiling and the gaping hole where his front door used to be. The cool night air of Brooklyn drifted in, carrying the distant sounds of sirens.
"Peace," he muttered to the darkness. "Is a myth."
.
.
.
The next morning, the sunlight hit Raizer's face earlier than usual. He sat up, his back popping in three places, and looked at the phone in his hand. He hadn't called her since before the Orario trip, maybe longer.
With a reluctant thumb, he dialed a familiar number. It didn't even ring twice.
"RAIZER?!" A voice shrieked from the speaker, loud enough to vibrate the remaining windowpanes. "You unfilial, cold-blooded boy! Do you have any idea what time it is? Do you have any idea how many days it's been?! I thought you were dead in a ditch, or worse, working overtime for no pay!"
Raizer winced, pulling the phone six inches from his ear. "Ma, I-"
"Don't 'Ma' me! I called your office, and they said you were 'famous'! Since when did you become famous? Is your life coming to an end? Are you sick? Are you still doing that embarrassing thing where you organize your socks by thread count when you're stressed? Because I told my neighbors that's why you're still single!"
Raizer's face flushed a deep, indignant crimson. "I don't do that anymore! And I'm fine! I'm just... I'm going to be visiting soon. I wanted to tell you I'm coming up state for a few days. And stop telling the neighbors about my habits."
"Oh? To see your poor, neglected mother? Or are you just running away from those city taxes you always complain about?"
"I'm just coming home, Ma. I'll be there this weekend."
Just as he was about to hang up, the bedroom door creaked open. Jessica Jones stumbled out, her hair a bird's nest and her shirt wrinkled. She rubbed her eyes, squinting at the bright living room.
"Hey," Jessica croaked, her voice gravelly from sleep. "Where do you keep the aspirin? My head feels like it was hit by a truck. Also, who are you talking to?"
The silence on the other end of the phone was sudden and absolute. It was the kind of silence that precedes a supernova.
"Raizer..." his mother's voice came back, now dangerously low and trembling with a terrifying, manic joy. "Was that... was that a woman? A female woman? In your apartment? In the morning?"
"Ma, it's not what it sounds like, she's just—"
"OH MY GOD! RAIZER HAS A GIRL! HE'S NOT GOING TO DIE ALONE WITH HIS CALCULATORS!" His mother began to wail with relief. "I knew it! I knew the sock-organizing was just a phase! Bring her!"
"No, Ma! She's unrelated! She's a... a professional acquaintance!"
"I don't care if she's a fugitive from the law, Raizer! You bring that girl to dinner this weekend or you don't bother showing your face here at all! If you show up alone, I'm locking the gates and giving your childhood bedroom to the neighbor's cat! Do you hear me? Bring. Her."
- CLICK.
The line went dead.
Raizer sat frozen, the phone still pressed to his ear. His heart didn't thump anymore; it gave a slow, mournful beat of pure despair. He slowly lowered the phone and turned his head to glare at Jessica.
Jessica was leaning against the doorframe, her expression entirely innocent as she blinked at him, completely unaware that she had just been drafted into a family audit.
"What?" she asked, scratching her arm. "Why are you looking at me like I just deleted your hard drive, filled with 'Homework'? And seriously, where's the aspirin?"
Raizer stood up, his gaze intense enough to make a lesser person burst into flames. "You," he pointed a trembling finger at her. "Pack a bag. You're going to a small town in South Dakota. And if you mention anything about superheroes, purple men, or the fact that I 'saved' you, I will personally knock you out like I knocked out Kilgrave."
Jessica blinked, her brow furrowing. "Wait, is this a kidnapping? Because I'm really not in the mood for a kidnapping today."
"It's worse," Raizer growled, walking past her to find his car keys. "It's a weekend with my mother. And be prepared, she smiles a lot."
He motioned her to follow and she did. Awakening from the mind control, she had nowhere else to be, so she followed quite obediently.
They reached his car while Raizer explained why it was all Jessica's fault. And her reaction to it all was-
"South Dakota?" Jessica repeated, a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something akin to interest in her dull eyes. "A farm? With cows and dirt?"
'Yeah, ignore your fault entirely. And focus on the farm and dirt.'
Raizer, currently wrestling a stubborn car seatbelt into submission, grunted. "It's not a farm. It's a house. In a town. With some dirt. And probably a cow or two. And my mother. You need to pretend we're... a couple. And you need to convince her I'm not a permanent bachelor who organizes his socks by thread count."
Jessica, still nursing a monumental headache, considered this. The idea of leaving the city, the constant echoes of Kilgrave, the judgmental stares of everyone who knew what she was capable of... it held a great deal of appeal. A small, quiet town in the middle of nowhere. A place where her strength wasn't a weapon, and her past might actually be past.
"Fine," she said, surprising Raizer. "I'm in. But if your mom tries to set us up with a double date for square dancing, I'm throwing myself in front of a tractor."
"Deal, I will throw before the tractor personally." Raizer said, buckling her in with a final, decisive click. "Just remember: no superpowers, no purple men, and no mentioning anything that could be considered 'outside the scope of a normal relationship.' My mother is a Level 10 civilian threat."
[Why are you putting so much effort in this, host? Can't you explain to your mother that she is misunderstanding your relationship with Jessica?]
The system had never seen Raizer put in more effort than needed. Not once. But the fact that he was dragging Jessica along for a misunderstanding with his mother was enough to believe that the host was dying.
'... Because she's my mother, I guess.' Raizer didn't specify further. He did have a hidden purpose too.
The drive was long, punctuated by long stretches of cornfields and an almost suffocating silence. Jessica mostly stared out the window, a rare blankness on her face. Raizer, meanwhile, kept one hand firmly on the wheel and the other occasionally hovering near the gearstick, ready to intervene if Jessica changed her mind and decided to make a dramatic exit through the passenger window.
They passed through sleepy towns with names like "Whispering Pines." The air grew cleaner, the sky impossibly vast, and the sheer emptiness of the landscape was, for Jessica, a strange balm. It was the antithesis of the crowded, claustrophobic city where every corner held a memory.
As they finally approached the outskirts of Harmony Grove, a blink-and-you-miss-it sign welcomed them to a town of "Population: 873."
"Okay, remember the plan," Raizer said, his voice clipped. "You're... my girlfriend. You work in... art restoration. You met me at a very boring conference. You think I'm 'charming' and 'deeply misunderstood'."
Jessica snorted. "Art restoration? Charming? You're a riot, Raizer. And I thought I was the one who was supposed to be convincing."
"And we will break up after this meeting for a simple reason."
"What reason?"
"My mom's annoying."
"... Are you truly her son?"
"She raised me to tell the truth."
Raizer confessed and nodded seriously. After this meeting, he truly wanted have no connections with Jessica. She was too 'human' for his taste. Why weren't cyborgs created already?
The first sign that this was not going to be a quiet visit was the sheer number of cars parked along the dusty road leading to Raizer's childhood home. His mother's house, a quaint two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch and meticulously maintained flowerbeds, was practically overflowing. Balloons in cheerful primary colors were tied to every fence post, and a banner crudely painted with "WELCOME HOME RAIZER! AND BRING YOUR WIFE!" hung precariously above the front door.
Raizer slapped his forehead with a resounding thwack. "She didn't..."
"Oh, she absolutely did," Jessica murmured, a flicker of genuine amusement playing on her lips for the first time in days. "Your mom thinks we're married, Raizer. This is going to be fun."
"Trust me, she knows we're not. She simply hopes..."
As Raizer pulled his car into the driveway, a flurry of movement erupted from the porch. A small, formidable woman with a bright floral apron and a formidable rolling pin in her hand charged down the steps. This was Raizer's mother.
"RAIZER! My baby boy!" she shrieked, launching herself at him the moment he stepped out of the car.
Raizer, despite his strength, was completely helpless. He was engulfed in a hug that defied physics, his mother squeezing the air out of him while simultaneously thumping his back with surprising force.
"Ma, I can't breathe," Raizer wheezed.
"Oh, hush! My unfilial son, finally coming home after all these months! And look at you! You're so thin! Don't they feed you in that city? Come here, let me get a good look at you." She pulled back, her eyes scrutinizing him from head to toe. "And what's with the scowl? Is that how you greet your mother? Smile, you look like you're trying to read a tax document!"
"Actually, I smile when reading tax documents."
"That's why I thought you would die alone."
Before Raizer could respond, his mother's gaze snapped to Jessica, who was still standing by the car, trying to blend into the cornfields. His mother's eyes widened, then gleamed with a predatory joy.
"And YOU!" she bellowed, throwing Raizer away and rushing towards Jessica. "You must be the lovely young woman who finally dragged my son away from his spreadsheets! Oh, you are even prettier than I imagined! Come here, darling, give your new mother a hug!"
Jessica, who had faced down armed thugs and psychotic serial killers without flinching, found herself utterly unprepared. She stiffened, her body going rigid as Raizer's mother enveloped her in a surprisingly strong hug.
"It's... nice to meet you, Mrs. Haze," Jessica mumbled, her eyes darting to Raizer, who offered her a shrug that clearly said, 'You're on your own'.
"Nonsense! Call me Eleanor! And look at you, so modest! Raizer, you finally picked a good one! Not like that Brenda from high school who kept sneaking into your room and stealing your underwear!" Eleanor chirped, linking arms with Jessica and steering her toward the house.
The party was a maelstrom of small-town hospitality. The entire neighborhood, it seemed, had been invited. There were casseroles, homemade pies, and a relentless barrage of questions.
"So, Jessica, dear," a woman with suspiciously bright blue hair leaned in, her voice a stage whisper. "What do you see in our quiet Raizer? He's such a sweet boy, but always so serious!"
Jessica managed a strained smile. "He's... very passionate about his work. And he has a... unique heartbeat."
"Oh, isn't that just the sweetest thing!" the woman cooed, completely missing the double meaning.
Raizer, meanwhile, was trapped in a corner by a group of his mother's bridge club friends, who were grilling him about his 'romantic intentions'.
"Raizer, dear, she's a catch! Don't let her get away! Are you going to propose soon?"
"Mrs. Henderson, we've only been... dating for a few months," Raizer said through gritted teeth.
"Nonsense! That's plenty of time! My Harold proposed after three dates, and look at us, fifty years strong! Now, do you prefer diamonds or sapphires?"
He closed his eyes, activating King's Resolve not to prepare for battle, but to survive the relentless barrage of well-meaning suburban interrogation.
Jessica, however, was slowly starting to relax. Away from the city's concrete jungle, away from the constant fear, the domestic chaos was almost... therapeutic. Eleanor, oblivious to Jessica's enhanced strength, kept pressing plates of food into her hands. Jessica found herself eating real, home-cooked food, something she hadn't done in years.
Eleanor was relentless. She showed Jessica baby photos of Raizer ("Look at him, trying to eat sand! Always so serious, even as a baby!"), recounted embarrassing anecdotes ("Remember that time he tried to fix the lawnmower and destroyed? He even walked away, saying men don't look back at explosions!"), and kept nudging Jessica to say something nice about your boyfriend.
Jessica, seeing Raizer's face flush a deeper shade of red with each story, found herself genuinely amused. "He's... very dedicated," she offered, trying to keep a straight face. "And he has a strong sense of personal space."
"Oh, isn't that just darling!" Eleanor beamed, completely misinterpreting.
As the evening wore on, the party wound down. Neighbors departed with promises of more pies and potlucks. Finally, the house fell silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator.
Eleanor, beaming with satisfaction, looked at Raizer and Jessica, who were both slumped on the sofa, utterly exhausted.
"Well, wasn't that lovely?" she chirped. "It's so nice to see my Raizer finally settling down. Now, you two just get some rest. I've put you in Raizer's old room. Don't forget to use the good towels!"
Jessica's eyes snapped open, and she stared at Raizer with a look of pure horror. "Wait, what?"
Raizer's own eyes widened. He had completely forgotten the single, most terrifying aspect of a visit to his mother's house. "Ma, no! We can just use the guest room!"
"Nonsense! You two are a couple! You share a room! And besides," Eleanor winked conspiratorially, "I put the good bubble bath in there for Jessica. Have fun, lovebirds!"
Eleanor bustled off to the kitchen, leaving Raizer and Jessica staring at each other in horrified silence.
"A bubble bath?" Jessica whispered, her voice laced with dread.
Raizer buried his face in his hands. "My week off is officially the worst torture I have ever experienced. And I've fought monster to the brink of death."