Lunches

By Izzy

The first of her articles about Midland Circle had been published by then, and Trish brought a copy with her. "It's really good," she said, the kind of easy but earnest compliment that made Karen feel a little better. "Especially considering how much we can't talk about."

"I wouldn't have wanted to talk about Matt, anyway," said Karen softly. "I'm not ready yet."

For a moment, Trish just looked at her. Then she said, "I've guessed his secret, you know. But all right, we can do that another time. For now, rest assured I'll keep my mouth shut. I'm not going to get you or Foggy in trouble."

So that day, they mostly talked about Jessica instead. "I'm going to ask you, as a reporter, to sit on all this for right now," said Trish, "because I'm actually hoping you're the one Jessica will ultimately agree to talk to. I think you're the first one where there might be a chance of it. You know it'll be a better story if she does." It would be, so Karen agreed readily.

At that point in time, Karen;s mind had just started to automatically assemble a narrative like the one Trish told then into a proper lengthy article. Except it had already done so when Trish kept going, with years of events worth talking about. It lasted right through their ordering and eating fancy-sounding salads, which were bigger than Karen had quite anticipated, and then the tart where it was just as well they split it, delicious as it was. It was easily the best lunch Karen could remember eating, but her attention was still taken mostly by what Trish was telling her.

It wasn't just what she told her about Jessica, either. From the time the Walkers had taken the newly-orphaned teenage girl in, her and Trish's lives had become intertwined enough Trish had to explain a lot about herself as well, and there were times hers was the crazier tale.

When Trish finished with the news that Jessica and Malcolm had reopened her P.I. business, and she hoped that might at least make Jessica drink a little less, Karen said, "Forget an article, we ought to write a book. If we can figure out how you put one together. I think we could, between the two of us. Although honestly, Trish, it doesn't sound like Jessica wants that at all, so..."

"Maybe she'll change her mind one day,: Trish insisted, like she just might bug Jessica about it until she finally gave in. Karen considered saying something, but she wasn't sure she wouldn't have done the same herself. "It's not like we'd be ready to write the whole thing tomorrow, anyway. Heck, we could write about all four of our friends eventually, after all possible statutes of limitations on anything they did or their friends did to protect them are expired. That would also take a long while."

Karen had already thought about doing that for Frank when she was an old woman, though she was grateful Trish hadn't brought him up just now. Hell, while a large part of her was still refusing to believe Matt was dead, the other parts were thinking she could do it much sooner for him, as soon as noone still alive could be charged as an accessory.

"Meanwhile," she said, "maybe we could work on your own memoir? I've heard enough today to tell me you've got a story worth telling even outside of Jessica."

"Maybe?" Trish shrugged, and Karen recognized reluctance to talk by now, and when someone didn't want anyone to know the reason for it. She would guess it was her feelings about her mother, which maybe she shouldn't push her about this first lunch.

Trish had paid the check, and they were finishing off their coffee, when she then said, "One thing I'm wondering. How'd you get your boss to let you continually write about serious subjects without any pushback?"

"Oh, it hasn't been without pushback," Karen replied. "There was plenty when I first started working for the Bulletin. I think I mostly outstubborned him. It also helped that it was what I was best at. And because she knew exactly why Trish had asked the question, she added, "It might be harder for you, I'm afraid, changing what your show's about."

"Tell me about it. All I hear is, 'You'll lose your viewers, noone will agree with you, you'll wreck your image.' Did it ever occur to them that maybe I don't want my image?"

"You don't like what you are now?" Karen asked sympathetically.

"I don't know if I've liked what I am since I was old enough to care, at least professionally. The one time I thought I did, that was probably just the drugs talking. And maybe now I can finally change that."

"Then fight for it,: Karen urged her. She didn't know if Trish needed the encouragement, but she wasn't taking any chances. "I'm sure you know this already, but play to your strengths. You've done well with the interviews, so as long as you can keep getting subjects...if you ever need any kind of help from me, Trish, I promise I'll give it."

She knew it had been right to say it when she saw Trish's relieved smile. "I bet I probably will want your help at some point, though right now I'm not sure when or how. But thank you, just for believing in me. I don't think many people do right now."

"They should," said Karen. "And maybe, eventually, they will."

***

They were at a pizza joint in Hell's Kitchen, the place where Foggy always had sworn by their plain cheese, and Karen mostly agreed with him. It was a bit more downscale than the kind of places Trish probably frequented, but then she took the first bite of her slice, and nearly moaned, "Oh, the cheese..."

At first they were mostly catching up, especially on their latest work trying to advocate for Inhumans in a situation steadily getting scarier. But then, after polishing off her slice, Trish commented, "My mother will not be happy with you for introducing me to a rundown pizza place where the pizza is *this* good," and she'd refrained from bringing it up at their first lunch but suddenly Karen just couldn't hold her tongue anymore:

"Why are you still letting that woman into your life? She was an abusive mother to you, Trish, don't try to go sugarcoating that. And throughout your adult life, even if she's helped you on occasion..."

"A little more than on occasion," Trish protested. "Karen, do you really think Jessica hasn't said all this to me already? And yet it was her to who sent me back to my mom when I first fell into the drugs. You don't think you know better than her there, do you?"

Karen couldn't argue with that one. "Okay, so you needed her help that time. Though when you consider it was largely her fault you were such a mess in the first place...you're acting like you're still obligated to her, and when you truly owe her nothing."

"You think she's that kind of mother, don't you?" Trish sighed. "All about how much work she put into my career and claiming I owe her. For your information, she's never thought I owe her a thing, and she's even said that to me. She's always believed people with talent owe it to the world to make the best use of it, and she did say plenty to me about that. But those are good words to live by, and most of my mistakes have happened when I haven't lived by them, so I'm going to live by them. I'm living by them right now."

"And has she cared in the slightest what you wanted for your life, what would make you happy? Does she even approve of what you're doing now?"

"We haven't talked about it," said Trish uncomfortably, which told Karen plenty. "She's probably just worried about me losing my job."

"The job where you've never liked you image? Does she know that? Have you told her that? Has she listened?"

"How I feel about my job isn't that black and white, and nor is how I feel about my mother, and I'm not going to make it be." Now Trish was getting angry. "I don't suppose you've ever had any trouble with your own mother..."

"My mother died of cancer when I was a teenager," Karen said, struggling not to react. Letting her own full history slip would have just derailed this conversation. She did add, "But if either of my parents had hit me, I would've run the moment I turned 18 and I would never have answered their calls." That was true; she wouldn’t have given up Georgetown to care for an abusive father, definitely. "Which of course isn't even the only line your mother crossed."

"I don't let her cross those anymore," Trish insisted. "And she's my mother. She's family. I've considered the question, you know, gone back and forth, on whether you can ever really disown your family. Here in my later years, I've discovered I don't want to, and I'd appreciate it if people stopped asking me to."

Well, Karen thought, it wasn't as if even her father didn't actively check up on her every once in a very great while. Still she asked, "Has she ever at least admitted she was wrong? If she won't admit to the existence of that line..."

"I'll force her to if I ever have to. I can do that. Stop acting like I magically transform back into a helpless little girl whenever she enters the vicinity. I know what I'm doing."

To some extent, Karen did believe her. But she couldn't forget all the accounts she'd heard, now, about children who even as adults kept insisting that their parents hadn't been all that bad, who insisted things were different now, who just refused to see the truth.

Karen was also aware that some might even say that she herself was one of them, that whatever she’d done to cause it, her father's throwing her out the way he had, after she'd tried to give up everything to keep him afloat, was inexcusable. She herself would never see it that way, of course. And logic was still telling her that she could not let Trish know that, that she couldn't give her the opportunity to steer the conversation from her mother to Karen's father.

But it was definitely starting to feel hypocritical of her. And then Trish actually asked, "And what about your father, Karen? I can't help but notice you haven't mentioned much about him, but you didn't claim him dead when you said your mother was. I've spent most of my life as Jessica's sister, and more of it in showbiz, Karen; I can tell when people aren't telling me something."

Karen groped for words to explain, before shaking her head. "I don't know if I can...not today, not here," and that was because she already knew she was going to tell Trish the truth. "But my father and I...I haven't been welcome at home since I was nineteen, and I did something terrible."

"Really?" Trish now sounded indignant. "Karen, surely you know something by now about what I did when I was nineteen..."

"This was worse than any of that...I don"t even know if I should be talking about it in public." That was very true, since the statute of limitations still hadn't expired even for manslaughter, but she was all too aware it was also an excuse.

"All right." Trish was giving her a very fixed look. "That'll be another thing we can wait on. For now. If in return, you believe me when I saw I don't need an intervention when it comes to my mother, and honestly, if I did, there's no way Jessica wouldn't run to do it."

It was that last point, more than anything else, that Karen couldn't really refute. So she too said, "All right. I'll believe you." For now she didn't say out loud, though she suspected Trish heard it anyway.

***

They were in Matt's apartment, eating takeout from that favorite curry place. And at last, Karen told Trish almost everything. And not just about Matt. Also about Kevin, and about Wesley, and also her voluntarily running around with Frank, up until the explosion on the boat. Trish had experience at interviewing people, and was way too good at getting people to spill details once they started talking.

She did get away with making it sound like the story with Frank ended with his supposed death; the one secret she *really* had to keep for the sake of someone else probably still alive remained safe. But she suspected she only managed that because she'd already confessed so much, it was only natural for Trish to think that had to be it, there couldn't be any more.

In the process she cried way too much, and Trish wasn't entirely dry-eyed either when she was done. Silently her friend went to fetch tissues; Karen had needed them so much when she came here that she'd started keeping a box around. Then she went to dispose of the empty takeout cartons, and Karen was pretty sure she was buying time to figure out what to say in response to all that.

She finally came up with: "So how much longer are you going to pay the rent on this place? You know the cleanup's done now, and yeah, they haven't found any remains likely to be him, but then where is he, and why wouldn't he have at least let you and Foggy know he's still alive? Okay, he does sound like he can be rather insensitive at times, but surely he wouldn't be that stupid."

"I don't know," Karen sighed. Her head had told her all of this, time and time again, but somehow, she just couldn't believe that Matt was truly dead.

"Obviously this has to be hard," Trish said gently. "I mean, you've lost everyone in your life, haven't you? And after that lecture you gave me on my mom, I think I'm allowed to insist to you that your father has been terrible to you, that even what you did doesn't justify what he did, especially considering what you'd done for him. In fact, and I don't care what you think of this: I wish I could sic my mom on him. She'd tear him a new one and she'd be absolutely right to do so."

"Yeah, she would be horrified, wouldn't she?: In spite of everything, Karen couldn't help but smile a little.

"She would." Trish smiled too, but then it faded, and she said, "I can see you going down this path, Karen, devoting your energies to a man you've already lost, which means he can't hurt you anymore either..." Words Frank Castle had said to her once ran through Karen's head, but that conversation she would not repeat to anyone. "But that's no way to live, not really. Youve got to keep going and finding new people to care about that are there. Maybe ones who don't lie to you and ghost you, but, well, I can't say I don't understand how you feel there, at least somewhat."

"I'll try, I suppose," sighed Karen. "But, you know, the real thing is...if Matt and I had been able to figure it out? After everything he said to me, and everything we went through together...remember what I said earlier, that ever since what happened at home, I've never really been close to anyone. I had multiple boyfriends complain about it. At one point I just stopped dating. In fact, when I started dating Matt, I feared it would just be more of the same...but if he hadn't died just now, if he'd been able to eventually figure himself out and maybe, just maybe, come back to me?"

"You couldn't have kept your normal distance," said Trish.

"Exactly. And now...it's just going to happen all over again. I can't even be that close with Foggy anymore, because he and Marci have gotten serious again, and she and me...we can get along, but we're never going to truly be friends."

"Don't you hate it when that happens?" Trish grinned ruefully. "You know, it's kind of a pity you didn't take Foggy up on that second date. You have to admit things would've been easier with him. And yeah, he's not as gorgeous as Matt, but he sounds really nice."

But to that Karen shook her head. "It wouldn't have worked, not then. I don't know if I would've been my arms length girlfriend self with Matt, but I do know I would've been with Foggy. Better things turn out the way they have than I ever do that to him. I think I knew that from early on, that that's why I never let it go anywhere. I mean, maybe, now, if it wasn't for Marci...but even then, I don't know if I could ever treat him right. She seems to, at least."

"You don't think much of yourself, do you?" Trish asked. "Even now, all these years later, when I bet through your work, you could probably do more good then all of our vigilante friends combined-and yes, I mean that." Of course she did, Karen couldn't help but think, because she was trying to do the same work.

"There are things you can never make sufficient amendment for, Trish," she said. "Count yourself lucky you never did any of them."

"Maybe. But..." Karen could actually see Trish picking her words. "You had sympathy for Frank Castle until the end, didn't you? More than that, really. And he's done way worse than you ever will."

"It's not that I don't know what he's done is wrong," said Karen. "It's just..." she sighed.

"You were still nice to him," said Trish. "If you were nice to him, maybe you can be nicer to yourself."

"Maybe," said Karen, but she didn't think it would be as simple as that.

***

They were in Trish's apartment; she'd invited Karen over. She'd spoken of wanting her to see it, but Karen hadn't been fooled. There'd already been a very awkward meeting with Foggy, which had started with him anxiously asking if she was all right, but ended with him sighing that he was finally learning when to just give up and let his crazier friends do whatever they did. Karen wasn't sure Trish was even capable of that.

She actually made them lunch, plying Karen with the chili she and Jessica had apparently taught themselves to make when they were seventeen. It was pretty good chili. Then, when they had eaten most of it, she put her fork down, and she, too, asked "Did you know?" sounding guarded rather than angry, and this time, Karen answered the question truthfully.

"I told him not to kill that poor boy for me," she said when the whole story was done. "I told him I wanted him to stop. Not even for the sake of those he's killing, though I know not all of them deserve to die, but for his own. I told him I want him to have an 'after,' to have a life that has more in it than just killing people." She hadn't cried while telling the story, but there were tears coming out now.

"Karen," Trish asked, very quietly, "you do know that you can't save a man just by loving him? And no, I'm not even talking about romantic love, necessarily, but it's clear as day you love that man in some way or another. You need to set a limit on how far you're willing to go to save a man who doesn't want to be saved, from the sound of it."

But Karen had a response to that most women didn't. "My brother saved me at the cost of his life. I don't think anything else would've done it, you know. And when...when you know that price was paid for you..."

"You shouldn't waste what you got with it, for one thing," said Trish. "For another, you don't sound like a day's gone by where you haven't thought that if someone gave you the chance, you'd gladly go back and change it so that he lived instead. Even if you could somehow save Frank, well, he's already lost his family, and you said they were targeted because of him, right? Do you really think he'd also want to go around with your having wrecked yourself-or worse-on his conscience? You're the one who knows him, Karen, tell me: would he want that?"

And Karen had to admit that this was probably the last thing Frank would want. "What can I do, then?" she said, as more tears ran down her face. "Trish, I walked away from one man I couldn't stop caring about and now he's...gone...and the last thing I said to him was...and he didn’t even kill anybody..." Her sobs mixed with a spate of hysterical laughter.

"Karen..." Trish reached across the table and very carefully laid a hand on her arm. "Of course you don't want to give up. Believe me, I know exactly what that feels like. When Jessica got away from Killgrave the first time...well, I suppose it was easier, because she wasn't doing anything like what Frank’s doing. But there was still her pushing me away when I knew she had never needed help more, and there was me fighting, and me still eventually having to accept I couldn't help her unless she let me. I never thought I'd give up. That's not supposed to be me. But sometimes, you just have to."

"I suppose..." Karen said. "Besides, at this point, what the hell else can I do?" This wasn't completely true, she supposed. She could pursue what he'd told her down by the river if she really wanted to. But the most likely outcome of that, she knew, would be Frank arrested again, or worse, her possibly even suffering the same, and the truly evil men who had killed his family probably still walking away scot free. Much as her more righteous side protested, she knew the best bad option was to leave well alone, at least for right now.

"Obviously," Trish agreed, "but I hope you remember what I say, Karen, if at some point in the future, that's no longer the case."

She made it sound a little too much like a command, and had the conversation not already exhausted her, Karen might have protested that who was she to talk like that to her? As it was, she just asked, "How is Jessica, anyway?"

Trish shrugged. "She's talking to me. She's letting Malcolm be there and help her. And when I try to get her to do any more towards self-care, she says she'll consider it, so maybe if I do it enough, she actually will. Except if I ask her to do anything that would force her to think about what's happened, either with Killgrave or with that accident; then she still just shuts me down."

"Give her time," Karen advised. "It's...it's not easy to have killed someone. Even if they deserved it. Even if the alternative was an outcome you simply couldn't bear. Even now, I....it's hard for me to talk about it."

"I don't know if it's that hard for everyone," said Trish, and it was very obvious what she meant there.

"Maybe," said Karen, "but I think it must still be for most." And she and Jessica had the same count, too: one person they never would've wanted to hurt, and one they very much had. She felt sorry for the fact that she was not the sort of woman Jessica Jones would be likely to commiserate with.

It took her another moment of Trish sitting there, looking perturbed, to make her realize she'd caught her off guard by not rising to that comment. Which did get her to snap, "I've never denied that there are things seriously wrong with Frank. I even said to you already that I think what he's done is wrong."

Trish didn't respond to that either at first. Then she said, "Of course you're not like him. I'm not suggesting anything like that. And yes, you obviously see the kind of slaughter he engages in as wrong. And unlike him, you were doing what you had to, with Wesley. But...you still have feelings in common with him, don't you? And I think you might be letting that influence your view of him."

"That doesn't mean I'm wrong," said Karen, because that protest she could make.

"No," said Trish, looking very thoughtful. "Maybe it doesn't. But if I know you, you'll let it influence everything you say or write about anything remotely like this in the future, even more so if your boss doesn't let you breathe Frank's name in the office. Even if you try not to let it, trust me, Karen, it's going to happen."

"I know," said Karen. "I've been doing this long enough to know that."

"So keep it in mind," said Trish. "Try to minimize it. That's all you can do, after all."

"Of course," said Karen. It wasn't the first time Trish had given her this kind of advice, and up until then, she'd always been grateful for it. But now, for the first time, she found herself feeling annoyed, thinking that Trish couldn't understand. She'd only been an accessory to this sort of thing; she'd never been a perpatrator herself.

***

They were at a cute little cafe up something like 30 floors above the streets of Manhatten. Even though it was the 4th of January, the holiday decorations were still up, and the holiday-themed tarts were still available. The decorations were maybe showing signs of wear and tear, and the raspberries in the tart Karen ordered were maybe a little sour. It was well past 1 PM, so they might have already used up the good ones. But Trish had so wanted to take them here, and while it was slightly cheaper than the bistro they'd had their first lunch in she was still paying for them both.

"I honestly didn't think I'd be so busy this year," Trish commented. "But Griffin had me going with him to this party and that party, and I wanted to see Jessica more than she wanted to see me, I'm afraid, and I ended up having too many long meetings with the higher-ups..."

"Anything to be concerned about?" Karen asked, trying to sound light about it.

Trish took a moment to seriously consider that question. "No more than there's been to be concerned about already," she finally said. Which, of course, was a lot itself.

It had to have been weighing on Trish's mind, and was probably why she was quiet for a minute or so. The she looked around, her gaze lingering on the mostly empty tables around them, and said, "Karen, if you don't want to answer this question, I'll understand, but...did you ever want to be like Matt? Either in his capacity as a lawyer or...the other thing?"

"No," said Karen, barely waiting for her to finish the question. "That's not for me, any of that."

"Any of it?" Trish asked, surprised.

"Okay," she said, dropping her voice a little, "maybe I've gone out on the streets myself and done things once or twice. But to do what Matt did, every single night, to let that define him at the end? Honestly, I don't think anyone without a completely crazy head is going to want to do that. As for being a lawyer, well, Matt actually did suggest that to me once, but no. Especially now, when Foggy's admitted to me a thing or two he's had to do to keep his current job; it seems the choices are be broke or sell out at least a little bit, you know? I don't blame him for choosing the latter, I really don't, but I'm glad to avoid that dilemma."

"Still," said Trish. "It'd be kind of cool, wouldn't it? Having superpowers."

"It does sound interesting," said Karen. "Though, at the same time, sometimes those powers have to be a problem. Thinking about Matt's enhanced senses, for instance. What he heard and smelt and felt had to have made life more difficult for him in a lot of ways. And if it wasn't for Jessica's, would Killgrave have ever targeted her?"

"She used to really enjoy them, though," said Trish. "She was very different before him."

"So you've said." Another thought hit Karen. "You wanted her to act as a superhero because of it, didn't you?"

"It made sense for her to," said Trish, and maybe she sounded a bit too defensive. Also a bit too loud. "She has unique talents, like Luke Cage does, and Danny Rand does, and yes, like Matt did." She remembered the drop her voice before the last bit, but barely.

Karen had been wondering, horribly, if Trish's reasons had been much more selfish than than simply sharing her mother's beliefs. Still she said, "Sometimes, when someone has that kind of potential, maybe you can't really demand of them they do everything with it. Not if it puts them in certain kinds of danger. I mean, look what it did..." That was a perfectly good time to drift off. It was, really.

"Okay," said Trish. "Maybe it is possible to go too far. Maybe you have to be smart about it. But you know, Karen, you're pretty smart."

The laugh was involutary. "You really think that? When you know all the stupid things I've done?"

"You've learned from your mistakes, haven't you?" Trish pointed out.

Another laugh. "Maybe not as much as I should have."

"Still a little. Honestly, I think that makes you an improvement on a few of our friends."

She smiled, and Karen couldn't help smiling back, even as she said, "I don't think I'd be nearly as good as them at what they do either, though. That includes lawyering; I get pissed off at the system too much for that. I'm good at finding out things, and I've gotten good at reporting them. And you're good at what you do, too," she finished, because something told her Trish needed to hear that.

Sure enough, Trish's smile widened, and she said, "Thanks. it's just...between Jessica and Griffin, I've been feeling a little inadequete lately."

"I'm sure Jessica needs you," Karen told her. "Whether she admits it or not. And, well, I haven't met Griffin yet, but..."

"I should introduce him to you, definitely," said Trish. "Maybe you could even do an interview with him. It's just he's always so busy."

"I know; I've seen him on TV." She'd already been vaguely aware of who he was before Trish had started dating him, and she had to admit, she would've loved to do what he did. Trish almost certainly would've even more, which gave Karen vague doubts about the relationship's health, honestly. "Still, tell him my schedule's always open for him. Though I doubt I'm the only journalist to deliver that message to him."

"Not all of them have a personal connection, though," Trish grinned at her. "And no, you don't get to say you don't want that kind of help."

"Actually," Karen protested, "I'm not sure I do."

"Oh come on, your boss would love it, wouldn't he?"

Ellison would; there was no denying that. "At least don't hawk me too hard?"

"I won't embarrass us, don't worry," Trish assured her. "Just let me drop your name, that's all."

Karen did agree to that, but she still didn't feel good about the whole thing. When, in the end, nothing came of it, that was a little relieving.

***

There were on top of a building on the corner of 5th and 61st, waiting for the St. Patrick's Day Parade to arrive, munching on the fairly decent hot dogs Jessica had just gotten them from one of the vendors below. She was having a restless day, apparently, since after delivering them their lunch she'd gone off. "She'll be back when the parade arrives," Trish assured Karen. Karen hoped so, since they couldn't get down without her.

She ended up telling Trish about going with Matt and Foggy, of course, not too long after she had first met them. That was the only other time she'd gone besides the year she'd first arrived in New York. Though she'd told that story, too, if only because of the adventure that getting there from Queens had been. "I wasn't even going into the other boroughs much at the time," she explained. "My first job here was also in Queens, and I had the general feeling the rest of the city was mostly filled with things I couldn't afford. Up until I went to this parade, the only part of Manhatten I set foot in was Central Park."

"So you only saw the skyline of this place," said Trish. She sounded oddly fascinated, as if she was hearing about something exotic. It wasn't the first time she'd looked at Karen like this, but it was the first time that really hit Karen. "You moved to Hell's Kitchen a couple months after the Incident, right?"

"When I got the job at Union Allied. And when the rents dropped, yes." Karen felt her voice go hard, as she added. "I'm not ashamed, not of that."

"I didn't mean to make you think you should be!" Trish looked very dismayed. "I'm sorry if I did. Why would you think that?"

"No, I didn't think that," Karen said hastily. She hadn't, exactly. Indeed, Trish had already displayed great sympathy whenever Karen had told her about some of the many financial struggles she'd had throughout her life-even her current one, which she had to admit was ridiculously self-inflicted. "I just..."

With most people, she thought, she'd just tell them. Even with Foggy, or Matt, she would've said something. But when she saw Trish looking so upset like this, she just felt uncomfortable, and she couldn't even figure out why.

She was relieved when Trish changed the subject. "My mom and I took Jessica to all the city's parades the first year she lived with us. She'd seen the Macy's Parade once, but she'd never been to any of the other ones. My mom tried to get me into the Macy's Parade a couple of times, but we never pulled that one off."

Karen thought of younger Trish, back when she'd been Patsy, up on one of those floats, probably singing something-or at least lip syncing it. "Were you disappointed?"

"Maybe a little," said Trish. "I mean, I don't know if I would've enjoyed it, especially since this was when I was in my late teens. But on the other hand, well, it is the Macy's Parade."

She looked back down to the street, and said, "Maybe one of the smaller parades would've been more fun. Or at least one that wasn't held in November. Even if it's a bit chilly today, maybe," she added, folding her arms around herself.

Karen grinned. "Vermonter here. It's not cold out." Though tell the truth, she was feeling it a little bit. She'd been further south long enough she'd begun to lose her immunity to the cold.

Jessica came back into sight, up on a neighboring roof for a moment. "Any idea what she's doing?" Karen asked as she pointed her out.

Trish shrugged. "Maybe a job? Though you'd think anyone keeping company with someone they shouldn't be out here wouldn't need a private investigator to be found out."

"You'd be surprised," said Karen. "I've had to do enough investigating this past year to discover that you can find quite a few sources and secrets just by looking closer at something or someone, or a crowd of someones."

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you some questions about that," said Trish. "Not today, though. I want it to be a long talk."

She'd dropped hints of this already, mostly in their emails, and Karen has a pretty good idea of just what she wants to investigate. And it might not be a bad idea, to find out exactly what had been done to Jessica and exactly what effect it had had on her, as well as maybe get some emotional closure.

"We'll do that, then," Karen assured her. "I'll help in any way you want. Though the main thing I can say off the bat is, be patient. You might even know that already, but really, be patient, and be ready to be frustrated a lot of the time."

"Well," Trish said, with a rueful laugh, "I've had a bit of experience with that lately."

This, too, she had hinted at in her emails. Still, Karen asked, "Is it getting worse?"

"Depends on how you look at it," said Trish. "They're starting to realize that this isn't just a phase of mine they can wait out, which at least means I'm feeling insulted a lot less of the time. But it also means they're getting angry and more aggressive. I suppose all I can really do there is remind them that we're still getting acceptable ratings and most of the advertisers we're going to lose we've lost already. Surely, eventually they'll shut up. Well, most of them. There's one asshole who I know won't..."

"Is that guy bothering you again?" Jessica had just landed on the roof.

"Not particularly at the moment," said Trish. Jessica looked skeptical. Karen herself wasn't sure whether she believed her or not. "Is the parade getting here?"

"You'll hear them in a few more minutes." She didn't sound all that excited, but she still sat down with them at the edge of the roof and peered over it. Trish moved close to her, and Karen thought about how many hours they must have spent up here; she knew it was a lot. She also knew that this was very much their thing, and while she didn't know if she'd been the first third party invited up with them, she doubted they invited just anyone.

That made her a little sorry, in that moment, that Jessica was there. Because had she not been, Karen might have been able to express her appreciation for that to her friend. But she couldn't get it out with Jessica present, and she didn't know if she'd be able to articulate it later.

***

They were in a more or less unoccupied corner of Central Park, which might have been a little emptier than usual. It had been about a week since the blackouts, and most of the Watchdogs responsible for the New York attack were likely still at large. Also it was still cool enough to require good jackets, and rain threatened. But Karen had made herself a PBJ and Trish had brought a chicken sandwich, and though they'd been emailing each other the last few days, it was good to check in in person. Especially since Karen had acquired one detail about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new director she'd wanted to share with Trish she hadn't wanted to risk writing in an email or text.

"An Inhuman?" Trish looked excited, but not entirely sold. "You're sure?"

"Not entirely that he's Inhuman," Karen admitted. "But the source was very certain he had superstrength, and heard a an agent express a belief he's Inhuman."

"Let me guess," said Trish. "You can't tell me about this source."

"I can tell you it's not even mine originally," Karen told her. It had been Ellison's, and Trish might guess that, but she still wouldn't say so. "But that's one thing, actually. I've heard you complain that in your job it's been who you know rather than what you know. But in mine? Often what you know is who you know. Quite frankly, my job would be a lot easier now if I hadn't alienated more people than I needed to early on. And even when you're doing your own research, you'll make a lot more progress if the archivist likes you-or at least doesn't dislike you."

It was certainly good to have Trish as a friend, of course, when they could, at last, talk seriously about having Karen on Trish Talk. "I still think we should've been able to do it ages ago," said Trish, "but get something truly big on that blackout and it'll be very easy."

She did tell Trish a bit more as they finished their sandwiches, going into details wherever she could. And she was very happy to do so when discussing her current investigation into how much the local Watchdogs and the NYPD had to do with each other. There was no way there wasn't overlap in their membership, and she had uncovered evidence of the former at least having help from the latter.

"It's finding the people that does it," she explained. "When it comes to the cops, most of the people who have the evidence against them have been indoctrinated to view their wrongdoings as okay and us as the enemy, which makes the job very hard. But if you can find even one person whose conscience is seriously bothering them about what one or more of their colleagues did...well, you've still got to get them to cooperate and avoid getting them in trouble if possible, but you've got your in."

"Your in," Trish repeated. "I suppose that is difficult, though, getting people to give you things they're not supposed to, whether that interdiction's official or unofficial."

It sounded like she wanted to talk about that, and it was so blindingly obvious why Karen actually said, "I have to say, Trish, hospital records are different."

"I know that," said Trish. "I know they're protected for good reason. I've been covering the plight of people with superpowers for a year and a half, Karen; of course I know that! But I'm the only next of kin Jessica has, and this needs to be done for her because she won't do it herself."

Any lingering doubts Karen had about helping her were then obliterated when she added, pain in her voice, "She's been in the same holding pattern for months, Karen. Stable and functional isn't the same as okay. You know that."

"Allright," she said. "If you have to do this." After thinking about it for a moment or too, she said, "If you're willing to use whatever method will work, then I'm afraid your greatest tool is probably your celebrity status. Find a member of the hospital staff where either they or their children love Patsy, and offer them a favor if you have to, and maybe they'll think hey, the records are pretty old anyway, they'd certainly never be missed-and if nothing's happened to them yet, they probably won't be."

Trish was nodding. "I suppose I really am going to get my hands dirty before the end of this no matter what. Might as well start with it."

They'd finished their sandwiches by then, and they were both busy enough that day they probably should've gotten up immediately. And if anyone had been in sight, Karen thought she would've done so. But sitting here with Trish, the one person in her current life to whom she had now confided almost everything, in this corner of the city away from all the places and people that crowded themselves into her lonely world, Karen suddenly, badly, didn't want to leave yet.

"Trish," she asked, hesitantly, "do you think they'll attack on this kind of scale again?"

"If noone stops them, obviously," Trish replied. And because she, too, knew what Karen was asking, she continued, "I don't know if they'd go after anyone besides their official target in the immediate future, but I suppose they'll probably at least threaten the both of us. Whether I'm more at risk for being higher profile or you are for actually being out on the streets, I think it's too early to tell."

Neither woman could speak or hear such words without feeling their impact. Karen found herself looking down as she fought back the ensuing thoughts. Gently a hand touched hers, and sympathetic voice asked, "Scared?"

"Always," Karen said. "You?"

There was too long a pause, and then she said, "I'm not sure, honestly. And when I think I'm glad to hear you're afraid. Those who are afraid have something they don't want to lose."

"I'd think you'd have more to lose than I would," Karen couldn't help but say, as she thought about Jessica, and Griffin, and the kind of power Trish wielded, much as her bosses regretted it.

"Maybe," said Trish, but she sounded way too skeptical about it. "But remember, you're benefitting from my radio show too, as soon as we can have you on."

"And I'm grateful for it," Karen said, and the two women exchanged smiles on that.

She would have been, too, if she'd managed to have her big breakthrough in the story just one week earlier, or Trish had held onto her show for just one week longer.

***

They were at Trish's new apartment, where Karen had spent the morning helping her move in, and they'd surveyed the local takeout places before ordering from an Asian fusion place where the sushi turned out to be terrible but the egg drop soup was good.

By then, Karen had intended to outright interrogate her friend about what the hell had happened since they'd last seen each other that day in Central Park. What she had not seen coming was when she didn't have to, because they were two bites in when Trish said, "Listen, Karen. I'm going to tell you everything." And then she proceeded to blow Karen's mind.

When she was done, she just asked, "Was I right to shoot when I did? I think I was, but..."

Karen took the time to seriously consider it. Finally she said, "I think you were, too. Jessica was in the process of not only throwing away everything else she had, but making herself vulnerable to a superstrong and mentally disturbed woman whom she desperately wouldn't want to hurt, far away from any of her other friends, and, I mean, there are so many ways that could've ended and not many of them would've been good. There's a good chance you saved her life."

She wanted to ask Trish if she regretted starting the whole chain of events. But she was a little afraid of the answer. She didn't even want to ask if her main goal from the start had been not to help Jessica, like she'd claimed, but to get herself superpowers. That answer she was terrified of.

"I can't stop thinking about it, though," Trish said. "That moment."

"You might not ever," Karen said. "It's been a couple of years, now, and I still see James Wesley's face most days. It's been way longer, and even Kevin's still haunts me. You don't just walk away from killing someone, Trish. It's changed you, and you're never going to go back to who you were. Even those who are more numb to it than we are don't escape paying that price."

Trish looked pretty glum at that. "I think I've paid a pretty big price for it already, losing Jessica."

"Surely not forever," Karen told her. "I know she loves you, but that must have been hard for her, having her mother die right in front of her like that. She's probably not thinking entirely straight about it right now. She's not stupid. Surely she'll come round."

Trish looked like she wanted to believe that, but she said, "Your father never has, has he?"

Karen had no answer to that one. But she just couldn't believe that after all they'd been through together, Jessica could really cut Trish out completely, and for good.

"So you're going to go through with it now, I assume," she said. "Be another vigilante."

"Of course." Trish looked at her as if she was an idiot. "What else can I do with myself at this point, anyway? I blew my chance at doing what I want in our field, and now that the story's all about how I relapsed into the drugs...well, there still may be offers, but not to do anything that's actually worth it. I'm afraid you're going to have to carry that crusade on by yourself, Karen. You're the one of us getting somewhere with it, after all."

"I suppose," Karen said. All of that made sense. And while she had a lot of misgivings about anyone she cared about taking this path, after Matt had fallen on it, there were others already who seemed to be doing okay. Besides, it had to help that Trish was planning things out. Matt couldn't have been, not on this scale. "And, well, I can see you've set the apartment up to train."

"That I have," Trish said, then smiled as she asked, "You want to see some of what I can do?"

"Absolutely," said Karen, she watched as Trish a number of impressive parkour moves in the small apartment at eye-popping speed, some involving her even literally running up the wall. As she applauded, and asked questions that were cheerfully answered, and even laughed as Trish had her throw things at her and caught them all, she thought bittersweetly of Matt. How different it would have been had he just told her earlier, before he'd wrecked their lives, and her learning the details of his powers could've been like this, a joyful experience, rather than a painful and angry one.

For Trish, of course, it was the first time she'd been able to show anyone else her abilities at all. She was beaming by the end of it; Karen didn't think she'd ever seen her this happy. But it dropped, as she said, "I just wish I could show Jessica. Are you sure she'll forgive me? Completely certain?"

Karen wanted very badly to say yes. If Trish hadn't thrown in that second part she might have.

Instead, she finally said, "I hope she does. For her own sake, as well as yours, you know."

>I don't want her to live with the regret I do. Even after all these months, she still couldn't bear to say it out loud. Besides, the kind of activities Trish was currently engaging in weren't all that likely to kill her. She wasn't taking on the kind of more dangerous foes the city's other vigilantes had dealt with in the past.

Although thinking about them, Karen also asked, "Any plans to reach out to anyone else? I think Danny Rand would be happy to give you whatever advice he can."

"Maybe," said Trish, but she didn't sound too eager.

And then she had to say, "Trish, I know you've mostly gone it alone so far, and now of course you've got me. Hell, I might even ask for your help with the Watchdogs, though between Danny, and the police willing to arrest at least some of them, that's covered for right now. But in all the time I've had to think about it, I've become convinced that if you're going to do this, you want a real support network. People who can give you information, maybe medical aid, and maybe the likes of Jeri Hogarth can get you out of legal trouble in a pinch, but wouldn't you rather have someone you trust completely? Also, they might keep you from going too far."

"I won't go too far," Trish snapped. "I'm not like..." She didn't finish that sentence, for which Karen was grateful. "I hear what you're saying, though. But all the potential people I know are Jessica's friends first, except you, and maybe Foggy-and even he's someone Jessica knows better than I do. I might try to figure something out, I suppose. I've got a lot to figure out."

"I know," said Karen. "Just consider it, that's all I ask." It was fine, she told herself. Trish was only just getting started. There was time.

***

There were in the offices of the new founded/refounded Nelson, Murdock, and Page. Matt and Foggy were out having a working lunch with a client, though they'd stayed long enough to say hello, for Matt to endure a few sharp words from Trish, and for Foggy to introduce her to Theo, who had provided the two women with a generous platter of the deli's various lunch meats.

Once they were alone, they started with Karen giving a basic summary of everything that had happened that wasn't public knowledge. When she was done, Trish said, "I think I've got two questions for you. How are you, and why didn't Ellison offer you your job back? You earned it back, you really did."

The first question was hard enough to answer for Karen to go right to the second one. "He did. I turned it down."

Trish looked as shocked as Karen had ever seen her. "Do you know what I see now, every time I think about walking back into those offices?" She'd given this speech to Matt and Foggy already, who, unlike Trish, had immediately looked less confused, even before she continued, "I see them filled with dead bodies. I see the phones of my murdered colleagues lying together where the FBI had collected them as evidence, continually chiming, their loved ones sending message after message, desperate to hear that they're all right. Those people all dead because of me."

"Not because of you." Same response as Matt when she'd first made the speech, as Foggy back when they'd been staring at those phones. Only much fiercer. "Because of Fisk."

"Because I was reckless and told myself, 'at any cost' without really thinking about what that cost might be, and who might pay it. And while that's thankfully the worst instance of it, it's hardly the first time my foolishness has gotten someone killed. Honestly, Trish, sometimes I wonder if I should consider my count to be two, or...and it's been worse the entire time I've been a reporter. Did you know I saw Luke Cage a couple weeks before this whole shitshow started, and he greeted me by telling me my reporting of a survivor of the Rum Punch Massacre nearly got her killed?"

"Rude of him," was Trish's reponse to that, which nearly sent Karen into a spate of pained laughter. "And yes, I read Alvarez's confession-which included that according to these thugs' own code, she never should've been in danger..."

"But she was, and if his conscience had taken one second longer to kick in...and it just goes on and on. I'm done. As a private investigator, I should at least put a lot less people in danger, and maybe if I can finally get myself to be more careful...I'm going to try to, anyway. I don't want to get any more people killed."

She was crying by now. Trish went and got her tissues. There were a few minutes of quiet as she tried to calm herself.

Finally Trish said, "I'm sorry I couldn't offer you any help. I would've liked to, but...well, I didn't know where to start, honestly."

"I would never have expected you to be able to take on a Wilson Fisk just yet," Karen assured her. "And given Matt was stubborn enough not to ask any of the others, who might have been..." She shook her head. "I won't tell either him or Foggy until you're ready, of course, but I would be very glad if, in the future, you two could watch each other's backs."

"That assumes he would," said Trish, "though I suppose I haven't really been doing much different from what he's done as Daredevil."

And since she and Karen had barely been able to see each other in person since that day in her apartment, she hadn't really been able to tell her about any of that. So she did then, going into more detail than Karen thought was even that prudent of her, but it was clear that she'd been longing to tell someone about all she'd accomplished, so she let her talk. They finished off the platter, and still Trish was going on, and Karen finally had to point out the time, and the likelihood that Matt and Foggy would be back soon.

"Wow," said Trish when she did so. "I didn't even realize I'd been talking so long, I'm sorry. And you never did tell me how you're holding up."

"I haven't really known, honestly," Karen said. But sitting there, listening to Trish, inevitably thinking just a little about not only Matt's probable future activities, but her own, she had felt something in her heart settle, her view of the future no longer overwhelmed by her thoughts of the past. So she said, "But I think I'm going to be all right. I feel like I'm on the right path here."

"If you're confident of that," Trish said, but she still sounded dubious.

"It should be for the better for you, you know," Karen offered. "I can help you more with the new job than with the old one. And having Matt and Foggy right here, doing this kind of work...if you ever get exposed, you'll be guaranteed a defense, if you want it. And when you're ready..."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll tell your two boys," said Trish, and Karen did not like her dismissive tone. "You know, Karen, I really am glad you've effectively gotten them both back into your life like this. I know you've been lonely. And hey, I think Matt would let you take him back. I'd be a happy maid of honor, if it came to that."

"Please, Trish," said Karen, hoping that conveyed how much she did not want to talk about that.

She seemed to get that message. "So as I was saying, I'm happy for you. But I still don't know either of them all that well, and you understand why I have to be careful, even with other vigilantes like Matt."

Karen wanted to argue with that. But she could hear the two men in question coming in downstairs, and they had to wrap this conversation up. So she just said, "I will say this. After I knew Matt's secret, there were a number of ways in which I no longer trusted him. There are too many ways I still don't. But since that night, I have been ready to trust him with my life. You don't have to know his ins and outs to know some things for sure."

"I suppose, maybe," said Trish, still doubtful, as Matt and Foggy came up the stairs, cheerfully calling the two women's names.

***

They were in Karen's apartment, since she had invited Trish over. She was starting to wish they saw each other more often, especially since they now both spent much of their time doing things they didn't want to talk about over email. So when she finally sucessfully taught herself how to bake potatoes after years of meaning to, after having Matt and Foggy over for them one day, she had Trish over for them another.

Things went well at first. They both had triumphs to tell each other about, though Karen was careful to leave out names and other identifying details. Which Trish seemed a little annoyed about, but, well, she had to know why. Karen also talked about how things with the firm were going in general, and even shared her general impression of how Matt was doing with his Daredevil life.

Maybe when that seagued into her again urging Trish to let her tell Matt and Foggy, she went for a bit of a hard sell. But that was partly because everything Trish had said about her current life outside of the vigilante work had added up to leave her downright alarmed.

She didn't get very far into anyway, before Trish angrily interrupted, "That's enough, Karen. You keep at this, I'm going to start to wonder if this is for my sake or for yours."

Karen actually had thought about that a little already. "I admit it would make my life easier, not being the only keeper of your big secret. But honestly, Trish, it's not just even them. Well, it is Matt, sort of, but only in that the more I watch him every day, now knowing what he does at night? The more I become convinced that if you're really going to be a vigilante long-term, it is *not* healthy to have absolutely nothing and noone else in your life you care about. It's not an easy balancing act he has, of course, but he's so much happier for it, Trish."

"And what does that have to do with who knows or doesn't know?"

"It's not just knowing." It wasn't easy to explain; Karen was left grateful that her time as a journalist hade left her far better with words. "It's having them in your circle. Right now, you've only got me, and you kind of have your mother-but she can only do so much when she doesn't know-and do you have any real friends at that cover job you clearly have contempt for? And that's another thing, that this is *only* what you're about now, though I'm not sure what the solution to that would be for you."

Trish shrugged. "If anyone can provide me with a viable path to reporting things that actually matter, I'll consider that. Matt's lucky, you know, in that he could recover his legal career and use it to make a difference. Fallens TV stars aren't really so lucky, especially when they're women.

Of course," she then added, "it might have been easier if I hadn't been so famous, if I'd been some lowly reporter who could just quietly go back to my job..."

And after all she'd done to try to be supportive and keep Trish's secret, Karen realized she didn't want to hear it. "Trish," she interrupted, "you are not going to get me to be sorry for making the right choice for my life and my conscience."

"Your conscience?" Trish demanded. "Funny you should go citing that. I would think it would be troubled by all the people you're not helping anymore, the stories that probably noone's reporting now, that the ridiculous amount of luck you had even, getting yourself that job, maybe should've suggested that you were meant to be there, that you got hired doing what you're best at..."

"Investigating is what I'm best at," Karen replied. "I know I got better at the writing part as I went along, but trust me, Trish, I'm doing plenty of good where I am now."

She said it forcefully enough that Trish looked affected. "Still," she said, "are you really unhappy being the only person who knows?"

"It's not that I don't appreciate your trust in me." She wanted Trish to be sure of that. "I know that's a very big thing for you to do. But it's very difficult to have these big secrets and be unable to tell anyone. I don't think I even realized how much so until now, when Foggy and I are able to at least talk to each other freely about Matt. That's such a relief, Trish, you have no idea. Think about it. Didn't it sometimes get hard to keep Jessica's powers secret when you were young?"

"It did, sometimes," Trish admitted. "All right, you've got some good points, Karen, I won't deny that. I do admit this gets pretty lonely sometimes. But at the very least, I need to spend a lot more time around Matt and Foggy, and I'm not sure how we'd even do that."

There was a straightforward problem, one they could figure out if they worked on it enough. "I'll see if there are any good opportunities for it. Of course, we usually go out during the evenings-we had to work out a schedule for when Matt's with us and when he's on the streets, and I know that's when you do most of your investigative work. But maybe when we all have a Saturday relatively free?"

"Maybe," said Trish. "One thing, though. I'm not even saying this will matter at all, but how are things currently between them and Jessica?"

Karen had to laugh a little then. "She stormed into our offices about a week after we had you there and yelled at Matt for five minutes straight, and Foggy promptly rejoiced in that she cared so much. She made some attempt to deny it, but that was pretty weak." She studied Trish's face carefully for any sign of pain; there was a reason she hadn't told her this earlier. There was nothing obvious, but her expression had turned very neutral. "Since then we've met with her at Josie's a couple of times. I know she's worked with Daredevil, but I don't know the details about that."

"I see," said Trish, still neutral. "Although I'm also considering approaching Colleen Wing. I don't think she and Jessica have ever had much to do with each other."

"She does mostly keep to Chinatown, more, I think, than Danny did. But I'd absolutely be in favor of that, too." Karen didn't know Colleen that well herself, but she would be happy to get to know her, especially if it was for Trish's sake.

They could do this together, she thought, especially if she could get Colleen on her side. Maybe they'd even get lucky and Danny would then come back from wherever the hell he'd gone off to. Just a small circle; Matt still didn't have that big a one himself, after all. Just a few people who could support Trish and keep her level, until such time as Jessica was finally ready to forgive her, and even after that too.

***

They were in Karen's apartment again, this time because Trish had invited herself over. She brought tacos with her, but Karen had barely taken the first bite before she demanded, "I know you were at the hospital when he broke out. Tell me what happened," and her tone was far more accusatory than it had been the last time they'd had this conversation.

Still, Karen thought, surely there was no way this could be as painful as the discussion with Matt and Foggy had been already. So she told it as best as she could, trying not to flinch at Trish's face seeming to get darker and darker. When she finished her account, she almost added that she hoped to get back in contact with Dinah Madani again, almost just to see how she was doing as much as anything else, but she found herself just a little reluctant to.

Trish's voice was sharp and harsh, then, as she said, "I could turn you in to the police for this. Of course, I suppose you could then do the same to me, even though I was doing the right thing, and then I wouldn't be able to do any more good out here."

"What could I have done, Trish?" Karen asked; it felt like she was pleading. "Not doing what we did was as good as signing the death warrent ourselves."

"For the loss of one life," she retorted. "One life of a mass murderer, as opposed to all the people who'll die now, plenty of them probably not half as bad as him."

"Two lives," was the only argument Karen had in response. "The second one that of a child."

"You sure of that? You've got only his word for it, and even if he genuinely believes it, that still doesn't mean it's true."

"On matters like that, I trust him, and I trust his judgment." Karen was getting a little angry herself now. "It's better than mine, that's for sure."

"Well, that's not saying much," sighed Trish. "Look, Karen, I understand completely why you might have bonded with him at the start of your history together. But now that you've long realized the two of you are nothing alike, and even if he didn't kill those girls he's still killed a shit ton of people, I don't get why you're acting like you're stuck on him or something."

"It's not so easy to stop caring, Trish," said Karen, and after another moment's consideration, she added, "I'm not going to be ashamed of that. I've done some very bad things in my life, but I won't apologize for loving someone. Not even Frank Castle."

"Is that how it is?" Trish just looked more appalled. "I thought you were finally figuring things out with Matt."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Karen protested. "You should know better." Had this conversation been going differently, she might have been more honest, might have explained that these two men had been two painful knots in her heart, and she did want more and more to tug at the one that was Matt, but their relationship was still too uncertain, while Frank getting ready to flee right out of her life again meant she'd had nothing to lose there.

But at that moment, it no longer felt like Trish was someone she could confide in. Instead Karen felt like she was in one of those damn interrogation rooms, being made to feel like she was under attack. She really didn't appreciate being made to feel that way while in her own home.

And meanwhile she was still going on, saying, "Even that aside, there's no way to justify what you did. You especially, of the three of you that did it. I'm not going to condemn a kid scared for her survival, and I wouldn't expect better out of some Homeland Security stooge who probably thinks she can manipulate a deranged former Marine for her own purposes..."

"Dinah Madani isn't like that either," Karen interrupted, much to her own surprise. "She got mixed up with Frank just like I did, and he described her as being just as fucked up as him, and I think I've seen enough of her at this point to say she's just another woman trying to figure her shit out, really."

"Well, you just said your judgement is less than trustworthy. You know, maybe it's just as well you walked away from your chance with the Bulletin. Someone who lets loose a mass murderer just because of her personal feelings-and don't you dare pretend that wasn't your reason in the end-obviously isn't really qualified to fight injustice, is way too selfish to pretend to be a hero."

Karen couldn't dispute her point, not really. She probably shouldn't see red over this. But all the same, she was starting to.

Still, she tried to choose her words carefully, as she started, "Maybe it was the wrong thing to do."

"No maybes, Karen, it was."

Don't react, Karen told herself. But it was of no use. Even that little made her lose her train of thought. She was beginning to fear Trish wouldn't listen to any of the words she had.

And then Trish said, "Or do you maybe secretly approve of what he does? You claim to know this woman I know you haven't seen all that much of, and the only explanation I can think of is because you think she's like you. You know, I've known you can be a manipulative bitch at times, but now I'm wondering about your behavior the entire time I've known you, if I've been wrong about you this whole time, if maybe you've never seen me as more than what you can get from me."

And that was it. Trish's attacking her for freeing Frank she could understand, and take, but that accusation crossed the line. "Get out," she growled, her voice going ice cold. "Now."

Trish stood up, and then she just stood there. There was one crazy moment where it felt like she-or Karen herself-might say or do anything.

Then she sighed, "I'm starting to think your friend Matt had it right when he tried to keep it all to himself. When you live the lives we do, Karen, friends will only let you down sooner or later." Then she turned and walked out.

Karen finished her taco while the taste turned salty from her tears. There was an untouched one in the bag, which she would ultimately foist off on Foggy.

She sent Trish an email a few days later, trying to apologize. When it went unanswered, she sent another one a few days after that. She would send several more, begging Trish to at least tell her how she was doing. Finally she gave up for the time being, sending her one last email telling her she was doing so, but adding, "If ever you need or want me for anything at all, you only have to reach out."

But Trish didn't.

***

She was in a parking lot on the south shore of Brooklyn, finishing off the yogurt she'd grabbed en route. Taking this trip meant she wasn't going to have a proper lunch, and maybe it was a bit idiotic of her. But she had to go somewhere to let out the words she could only utter to three people, all of whom would've reacted very badly to some of them. Noone even knew exactly where in the Atlantic the Raft was, so she would have to settle to saying it to the ocean.

A quick glance around to make sure noone was in earshot, and it burst out of her: "Why'd you have to do it, Trish? Even if you didn't quite mean for it with the first two, why'd you have to kill the guy who actually probably would've been convicted-I mean, your mother was the kind of white woman where he couldn't get away with it-and go over the edge completely?"

Already the ocean was turning blurry with her tears. Karen wiped at her eyes, though it didn't feel like much use. "These past few days I've gone through that day in my apartment so many times, and Trish, I should've realized. I was so angry about what you said to me I didn't stop to think. I should've recognized how much you were changing, should've thought about how you were letting out the worst parts of yourself-I'd talked through enough with Matt that I really should've thought of *that.* I did know you had this in you already; I should've been prepared.

Would it have helped, though, if I'd kept my head? If I'd let you stay? Could I have headed you off from this path? Or if I'd kept emailing you, until maybe you finally did give in and respond? Was it only too late by the time Jessica got to you? I don't even know. I hate that I don't know so much, Trish.

Did you know, from the time Jessica put out that video to when we heard about the arrest, Matt and Foggy did everything to keep me from being left alone. Foggy even got Marci to rope me into the wedding preparations. Didn't ask me how much I'd known then. I don't think they ever would've if Jessica hadn't. But they didn't have to. I helped Frank escape, after all-and isn't that ridiculous, that he did way worse than you but is still free and never was even in danger of the Raft." She laughed then, chest nearly shaking apart in her rage. "I would've helped you.

Hell, I would still. Yeah, we're suing for habeas, but what are our chances, really, when the courts are now all packed with right-wing judges and how are we even supposed to represent you properly when you probably don't even know we're doing so?! If I could, I'd break you out and hide you somewhere they'd never find you and sleep soundly at night afterwards." She barely refrained from shouting it, taking another glance around, since she really couldn't have anyone hearing her say that.

Even if she then had to continue, "I think they know that part, too. Jessica had words with me for keeping everything you were doing to myself, maybe because Matt and Foggy said they couldn't, not without being hypocrites." Another bitter laugh. "I didn't even tell them about our falling out until I had to explain why I didn't want to go to your mother's funeral. Hell, if I hadn't seen that you were back with Jessica, we might have gone. Though I'd made a couple of excuses for why I hadn't seen you lately. And then when they knew I was having lunches with Dinah instead, well, they didn't react well to that change. Thought you were the good influence, in contrast to her. They had no idea.

It's been rough, though. Especially with Matt, since we actually are pretty much headed back in that direction now. This probably won't actually stop that. I mean, he was willing to run off with Elektra at one point, so...but it's going to make everything harder. He's had to learn and accept who I really am, him and Foggy both, and yeah, that's been a relief a lot of the time, but there are parts of me that nobody's gonna like. You were right about one thing. I'm not cut out to be a hero.

I still hate how helpless I feel right now, though. And if I'm being really honest here, it's not even just your case. Those right-wing judges I mentioned earlier have been making me feel defeated at the beginning of any case where we have to rely on appealing or it looks like the other side's going to, and meanwhile the laws themselves are getting worse.

The system's always been rigged against us-I think anyone who works in law for long enough knows that. But coming back after so long away, I keep hearing about how this won't work for us anymore or now we have to deal with that, and you know what?" Again her voice raised itself, and she took another look around before just letting it out: "It's starting to baffle me that there aren't more lawyers out there taking the law into their own hands. Yeah, a lot of them are evil, but more than enough aren't that there should be someone besides Matt who's lost their shit over it.

Who's just stormed out in the street and starting screaming fuck all the laws and the bastards who make them to screw the 99 percent over, and fuck the new laws that've thrown you into the Raft without a smidgen of your due process rights, and hell, fuck Jessica's mother for breaking out because maybe we could've plea-bargained you out of that if they hadn't changed the rules afterwards, and fuck all three of those assholes you killed because they actually were pretty evil, also, fuck Jessica, for deciding to take the side she did, and fuck everyone for just going along with it..."

And now she had to stop, because she was crying too hard. Karen's legs crumpled out from under her, and she sat down in the parking lot and just cried.

She lost track of time. A few people came into the parking lot, got into their cars, and drove away, but thankfully they just ignored her.

When she was able to speak again, she said, "So I guess I know why you did it, Trish. I just really wish you hadn't."

Checking her watch, she stood back up. "I suppose it doesn't help that we also already know things are just going to get worse, at least for the next three years. Probably after that, too, the way things are going. All that remains is to see just how they do. I'd like to think that nothing from here on in will hurt as much as this on a personal level, but that would probably come back to bite me in the ass. So I guess I'll just head on back, fight this losing fight, and, oh, I don't even know anymore."

There were tears in her eyes still as she walked out of the parking lot. She wanted to say a goodbye to Trish, but had no idea what she would say in one.

***

She was in the same parking lot, now completely empty of cars, which meant someone must have cleared out the ones whose owners were dead. The ashes in the air had now thinned enough to make breathing easy, but while Karen had stubbornly bought herself a candy bar and was trying to nibble without exposing it to the open air too much, she still tasted nothing but death.

There were no tears to sooth the sting of the air on her eyes; she'd dried up over the past few days. Her voice was hoarse as she began. "Well, Trish," she said, "turns out the next of kin do get one notification for Raft prisoners: they tell them when they die. Jessica got the notice yesterday. Though I'm afraid the paranoid part of me can't help but think that if they didn't like you, or thought we might actually win your case and wreck their setup, they could've so easily made everyone think you just turned into dust with everyone else.

I suppose we should be glad Jessica's still alive, since I probably wouldn't ever even know for sure if she wasn't. But if anyone could tell me why Foggy is dead..." The distant floating remains of Trish Walker were hardly the first entity Karen had made that entreaty to, but even hearing her own words was still enough to tear her apart all over again.

"And Luke and Danny are both dead, too. So is Ellison, and Brett, and Malcolm, and Berry with him, and Dinah, but I suppose you wouldn't care about her." There wasn't even any anger left in her wild laugh, then, only pain. "Or about Frank, but I might never even know if he's alive or not anyway-of course if you heard about how badly I think that's going to torment me...and this other guy he was friends with is also dead, along with his wife, and their kids actually found Matt's number and want him to be their lawyer. They're Jewish, and want to make sure they don't get fostered anywhere that tries to convert them. Now Matt wants the two of us to take them in. All the orphans they've got to deal with right now, they'd probably let us.

Except I don't know about him. We officially got back together a few days before this whole thing happened, and he...I don't know if he can recover from losing Foggy, honestly. And I'm not going to walk away from him, so that means I have to help him through this. Can we even deal with two kids who've just lost their parents right now? But then again, can anyone right now? We're all of us mourning people, and most of us have probably suffered a loss as devastating to us as losing Foggy is to Matt and me both, and the rest are probably close to someone who did, and they have to figure out how to help them somehow, and meanwhile these kids also all need help..."

It might have been the most words Karen had said out loud at once in a while, and she found herself feeling calmer than she had been as well. So she kept talking: "And that's not even all Matt's had to deal with. He and Jessica and Eric and Colleen all got visits from this weird sorcerer guy or something who wants them to go see him somewhere in Greenwich Village, and of course Matt's probably going to go. And I don't want him to. So much I'm probably going to even tell him that, even though it'll likely just result in a yelling match and then him going anyway. He shouldn't have to..." It was a good thing there was noone around to hear her, since she was pretty much whining at this point.

"And I haven't even told you the thing you'd probably care most of about, hell, I'm not sure bringing this up won't cause you to reform yourself right here so you can beg me to fight for this. The afternoon after the dustcloud went up, I got a call from Hugo Biodesetti, who's now in charge of the Bulletin. That asshole never liked me, and he made clear he only wants me back until he can hire some new people. Then he promptly threw me at the SI press conference, because he knew I'd go after Pepper Potts no matter how sorry I felt for her. Which I do, but he was right. You'd be proud of how I grilled her. There's part of me that wonders why I'm not myself."

Karen paused then, and she could almost hear Trish's voice, could conjure what she would say. At least enough to respond, "But I can't fight for it, Trish. Even if it wasn't for all the reasons I walked away the first time, I just don't have the strength. Not anymore. Especially not when most of the time I've been back in the office so far, I've felt absolutely miserable." She knew Trish's response to that too, and countered, "I can't be sure it'll change. I can't be sure anything will ever be better ever again. This is just so big a loss, I don't think every society out there's going to survive it. Not to mention with Biodesetti in charge...he hates women like me. Women like Potts too. He probably enjoyed watching us semi-catfight.

It doesn't help matters either that Ross is now president. Which is of course an improvement on the previous situation, but that's not exactly saying much." She kept it to a chuckle this time, which still hurt. "Maybe it's just as well you're dead now and they can't do anything more to you, because who knows what they might now do to those still left on the Raft. Oh, and he gets to appoint half the judges in the higher courts. Yeah, remember how I said last month that things have just been getting worse, and were probably going to continue to do so, and how I don't know why more people aren't screaming fuck the system? All even more true now."

Thinking about all that was enough to make Karen feel yet again like she was breaking inside beyond repair, and before she'd even entirely comprehended them, her darkest thoughts of all came tumbling out: "There hasn't been a day gone by where sometime during it I wish I'd been amoung the dead. If I could trade my life for Foggy's right now...I mean, he and Matt would mourn the hell out of me, but they'd be all right after that."

That she wasn't actually saying any of this to anyone but herself didn't stop Karen from feeling then like she had confessed too much. She peeled back the wrapper and took a large bite out of the candy bar, maybe enough to taste a little bit of it amoung the ash. Maybe she'd been approaching that one the wrong way. Just one more chapter of her glorious history of missteps.

When she had swallowed, she said, "I didn't know how to say goodbye to you last month, Trish. I still don't. I don't know if it's because I'm still a little bit mad at you even now, or because I still don't want to believe it ended this way. Maybe if I came back here a year or so from now, I'd know how. If I'm still alive and still living here and not hiding in some post-societal collapse bunker 24/7 or something." She didn't even try to make that last part sound flippant; there wasn't much point to it when the only person actually there was herself, and she probably wouldn't have fooled Trish anyway.

***

She was in that parking lot once again, this time holding a bagel lathered with cream cheese. Even years after the dustcloud had first gone up, the inhabitants of New York now had multiple lingering reasons to not eat in public much. But Karen hadn't gotten a chance to eat breakfast, and again was losing her chance at a proper lunch for this visit, which was also, more than ever, a much needed excuse to just stop and breathe.

"Hey, Trish," she said, between bites. "Been a bit more than a year, but, remember that thing you said once, about being my maid of honor?" The whole thing felt silly, now that she was actually saying the things out loud. But she'd come all the way here, so she figured she might as well finish what she'd started. "Well, tomorrow's the big day. And my maid of honor is the teenage girl we've pretty much adopted now. Though it might interest you more to hear that Jessica ended up agreeing to be best man, after Zack decided he'd rather walk me down the aisle.

Of course if this whole dustcloud thing hadn't happened, it probably would've been Dinah, at least if we'd managed to keep the friendship up. But even after all this time, I still feel like it should've been you.

That's even stranger when you consider how *everything* is different now. The dustcloud apparently wasn't even devastating enough; we had to have a pandemic, too. I got sick. One of the milder cases, and Matt caught it so early he and the kids avoided getting it, but I've only been back to full strength for a couple of months. We lost Bess, Brett's mother, we nearly lost Claire, and Curtis was another one of the milder cases, but he's still not fully recovered, not really-though I suppose you might not care about Curtis, because he was another friend of Frank's.

We think Frank's probably dead too, by the way. Curtis and I, and Amy, the kid, we keep in touch with her, have all regularly checked the news for any stories about mass murders of criminals. And there are some that are happening, but, well, they aren't being killed with bullets. In fact, I think we all know who is responsible, except I'm not sure I can believe it...

But speaking of which, there was one pleasant surprise after the dustcloud went up. The laws against people with superpowers did get worse for a while. There was one point when I seriously thought we were all going to have to flee the country. But then a bunch of people talked to each other. I assume one of them was Steve Rogers, and I know another one was Wong-and I don't even have time to explain *him,* honestly, and I'm pretty sure another one was Carol Danvers-I wish I had the time to explain her, Trish, because you'd absolutely love her, and I don't even know what happened, but...they got the Accords modified. Everyone in the Raft has now either gotten a trial or is scheduled for one, though there has been quite the foot dragging on some of them.

So now I'm left to wish you'd lived so badly, Trish. There's so much Matt and I could probably get done for you now. But you and three other people who were shut up in the Raft will never get justice. One of these days I will write the blog entry about it. Probably piss my readers off, but it's not like any of them should be surprised.

Sometimes my mind even wonders what you'd think of the circle we've formed. Been thinking about it more, lately, since tomorrow's going to be the first time we've all been gathered in over a year. Matt and I specifically agreed to hold our wedding when it would at long last be safe for us to again. Well, it wasn't as simple as that, because we weren't the only ones with that idea, but...anyway, we're the group Wong brought together, officially, but I'm pretty sure we would've formed even without him. Even the people he introduced to the rest of us, like Curtis, probably would've come our way eventually.

I think you would've liked Leo. Zack might have even grown on you." Okay, Karen conceded to herself, maybe that was her own feelings talking. "They're both good kids, ultimately. I think having them is what kept Matt from doing God knows what in the months after the dustcloud first went up. He'd never had that kind of responsibility-neither had I, really, but he'd never in his life taken responsibility for anyone like that, not even in his own head.

But it hasn't even been just the two of us raising them. Everyone's helped. Zack even says he wants to be a superhero himself when he grows up." She laughed again, and this time, it didn't hurt, not really, not anymore. "Leo's said she wants to stay nearby for college, and she's got Wong knowing way more than makes sense for him about every school left in the area, Curtis and Colleen both knowing everything about the paperwork, Gillian offering her a couple essay ideas, and Jessica making clear her official and unofficial services are available-for her lowest fee-should Leo ever need any of them.

Which raises the question of what contribution you'd be making to that, wouldn't it?" She took a moment to think it over. "How much of what you did would you warn her not to do? Would you make as many suggestions as Jessica said you made to her? Please note I have forbidden everyone-including Matt-from stalking her at school unless she gives them permission. Which she might give, to Matt if to nobody else." There was the question of how much effect her interdiction would have, but she wouldn't have mentioned that to Trish, perhaps.

She didn't really have much time left now. What else would she have said to Trish if she was still alive and there? "Would you react badly to my taking Matt's name?" she asked her. "It's only that I've got good feelings attached to his, and much less good ones attached to mine. Would you have changed your name? Maybe hyphenated as a compromised? I never knew Griffin well enough to guess at how he approached that question; I know better than to make assumptions of how supposedly progressive men react to their fiancee not wanting to take their name."

At some point she'd stopped eating. Now she took a few minutes to finish her bagel off, and compose her thoughts a little further.

"I still didn't know how to say goodbye to you, last time," she said when she was done eating. "Now, I can say simply that I'm sorry for how things turned out, and if there is any sort of afterlife, I hope they give you the fair judgement you didn't get in this one. I know Matt still prays for your soul. I can't really do that. But I can hope. Godspeed, Trish."

As she turned and walked out of that parking lot for the third time, Karen felt a lot of the weight she'd been carrying around all these years fall away to be left behind there. This, she knew, was one place to which she was never going back.

***

They were at the New York Sanctum, where the non-fighters had gathered to wait, and most of the New York-based fighters (including a good number of Avengers) had come to after the battle via the portals. Karen had left Foggy with Matt and had her reunions with several other friends come from the battlefield. Including Frank. Wong had since sent him somewhere he could find a new van and not get arrested, but he'd let her and the Liebermans hug the stuffing out of him first, spoke a little with Curtis, and congratulated her on her marriage and pregnancy, and clearly genuinely meant it. She would to her dying day remember the look on his face when he'd placed his hand over her belly and felt the baby kick.

Somebody had ordered pizza from the joint newly opened just outside the Village, and just about everyone had a slice in their hands when Karen finally found Trish. She'd sustained injuries in the battle, not life-threatening, but enough to leave her perching very carefully on the stairs, trying not to put weight on her left hip, one of the multiple parts of her heavily bandaged up. But when she saw Karen, her smile went wide. "How are you doing?" she asked. "You look good, but..."

"It's been a long five years," said Karen, because what else could she say? Especially with all the feelings churning up in her right now, more positive ones than negative, but the latter were definitely there too.

"Yeah," said Trish with the same perturbed look on her face of everyone that was still trying to comprehend they'd been gone for that long. "You know I ran into Jessica in the middle of the fight. She just stopped and stared at me for a moment. Probably would've for longer if that thing hadn't attacked her. It was like she just couldn't process me standing there, even though she was fighting right alongside Luke, and I know Mr. Wong told people he was bringing me."

"She probably was feeling some guilt," said Karen, sitting down next to Trish, if only because she really needed to sit down at that point. Trish didn't protest. "She was always unhappy about what she did, you know, even if she genuinely felt she had to do it."

"I know," said Trish. "I know she hired you three to try to help."

That alone was deeply relieving. "Yes, and speaking of which, they have gotten rid of some of the worst aspects of the Accords. You can now get a fair trial same as everyone else, and I think at the very least, we can keep you out of the Raft. It's not even impossible we could get a pardon-I don't know how much you've heard, but I'm pretty damn sure at least one of the Avengers is going to need one..."

"Actually, about that," said Trish. "I've got news, too. First of all, have you heard Nick Fury didn't die? Well, okay, he did five years ago, but he's back now, and he didn't die before that."

"I didn't," said Karen, but after a moment of processing, she added, "but yeah, of course he faked his own death, didn't he? We should've realized."

"Not only that, he's apparently been planning something," and then she dropped her voice and murmured. "Believe it or not, he's been planning something in outer space! And he doesn't even think the five year delay will cause him too much trouble. Just now, he came over here and asked me to go with him and work for him. Says he might even be able to get me a quiet pardon, and even if he can't, well, I'll be up in outer space, so...I think I'm going to take his offer."

She must have seen the alarm bells going off in Karen's head, because she said, "I know how that all sounds. So did he; he offered to let Jessica accompany me out there, see the place, stay until she was satisfied. But when it comes down to it, it's probably still this or prison. And I haven't abandoned that philosophy of my mother's, to deliver to the universe what you've got in you. I know I went the wrong way with it five years ago, but Karen, this is my chance to try to make up for that. I can't throw this kind of opportunity away."

Karen still thought she might get a pardon without making this deal, but the rest of her logic was sensible enough. Also, she now knew Trish well enough to know she wasn't going to be talked out of this. So she just said, "Then all I can do is wish you luck. And maybe apologize again for how things went last time we saw each other. I've spent five years wishing I'd handled that differently."

"I think I'm the one who should apologize for that," said Trish. "And I am sorry. Not that I don't disapprove of what you did, but I shouldn't have said what I said. I may have only had a month to think about all my sins, but that's more than enough time to realize that."

"Thank you for that," said Karen, and she felt most of her remaining anger dissolve. After five long years, that was a very good feeling.

"So while I'm still here on Earth," she said, "Give me a bit more of an update. I heard something about a terrible pandemic devastating the city, though if you don't want to talk about that, maybe just tell me about the wedding?"

"I had to tell Foggy Marci had remarried and moved to Chicago, and I'm not sure who's breaking it to Brett that his mother is dead," Karen told her. "I don't mind talking about the bad with the good. But if you want the story of my last five years, I have to start with the two kids Matt and I took in at the beginning of them..."

They finished their slices as Karen covered everything as best she could. She watched Trish go from sympathy but mild incomprehension as she described the days after the dustcloud first went up, to shock and horror as she got to the spring of 2020 and exactly what had happened first to New York and then to she herself, to a little overwhelmed after that. It occured to Karen, as she talked, that those who hadn't lived through these last five years were probably never going to fully understand what it had been like for those who had, and this was probably only the first time she was going to get this kind of reaction.

"Well," she managed when Karen was done, "I don't have that kind of story to tell you right now. But surely there'll be some communication between Earth and where I'm going, and I want to write to anyone who wants to hear from me. And I want them to write back. Are you willing to do that, Karen?" She still sounded unsure.

At least until Karen said, "Yes, absolutely," and even got her hand held out quickly for Trish to shake.

Though even that was a strange experience, having her hand shaken by someone who not only showed no nerves about it, but had clearly never even had any.

***

They were at the cafeteria for this space outpost, wherever the hell in the galaxy it was; they had not been allowed to know that. Given how it was the fault of Fury and his people that Peter was in this mess, they really should've been far more cooperative in letting his legal team come up here to talk with them. But they'd set all sorts of unnecessary terms, and exposed them to further bullshit from S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.W.O.R.D. both, and Fury hadn't been the easiest of interview subjects either.

And now Matt and Foggy had already been obliged to head home, leaving Karen behind to do the remainer of the research. Karen suspected they owed it to Pepper Potts that she herself hadn't been forced to go with them.

She was very glad she'd gotten to stay, though. Especially because it meant one more meeting.

When Trish first walked into the cafeteria, she was in workout cloths with her hair damp. She also looked more at ease than Karen had seen her...well, very possibly ever. She joined her by the serving stations with a, "Hey, long time no see. Need help identifying what's in these sandwiches?"

"Yes, thank you." From what Karen understood, the Skrulls had designed their own takes on this standard Earth recipe, but she wasn't sure the bread even qualified as actual bread, and most of their contents were equally unidentifiable. Nonetheless, she could feel her mood lifting just by having Trish there, even before she began helpfully telling her which sandwich tasted like chicken and which was healthier for humans and even which might leave her feeling a little extra pumped up for the better part of the afternoon. The last tempted Karen, but in the end she went with the first. The plant material in it was delightfully crunchy.

They first part of their lunch flew by easily, because of course they had to start with the baby pictures; Karen had been able to send her a couple, but she had many more with her. Trish especially liked the one of Jack set up next to the fridge magnet letters that spelt his full name out, courtesy Foggy, of course.

"He's still living with you two?" Trish asked when Karen told her that, and poor Karen gave way too much away with her blush. Which was how Trish became the first person to whom she confided her deepening feelings for Foggy, and her growing belief that the two men's feelings might be the same. Trish took the news in stride. "I'm used to polyamory nowadays," she said. "The Skrulls have adopted it out of necessity. They need to have as many kids as possible."

Indeed, while Karen had plenty of updates about all their friends-and she had saved the news about Curtis and Claire's engagement in the hopes she'd get to deliver it in person-Trish was the one who was able to dazzle her companion with stories about all the aliens she'd met and even a planet or two she'd been on, though she'd stayed on the outpost for the most part. Karen even took notes; she was definitely going to blog about this, even if she couldn't talk about any of the important stuff, or even about who she'd gotten her information from.

"Did you ever think," Trish asked her at one point, "you would be informing the world about the capital of the Xandarian Empire, or the drama that occurs whenever a Duni and a Erctarc meet on neutral ground, or the stories interstellar merchants tell about space ghosts? I mean, until recently, that was the sort of thing you only read about in the Weekly World News. And yeah, there were a handful of weirder true stories by the time you were working for the Bulletin, but..."

"It was a bit more complicated than that, if you remember," said Karen. "Though I suppose the biggest difference is I'm not having to focus so often on ugly things like Inhuman persecution, or all the bullshit they threw at Luke Cage. Which is arguably what made my work-our work, so important back then."

She felt herself turn a little sombre as she continued, "That's all still going on, you know. I won't go into details, obviously, but in the nearly seven years we've had our various superpowered clients, I don't think there's been one time the judgements against them haven't been at some point or other negatively affected. Even the one we got acquitted, the pretrial rulings were just..."

"But you did get one acquitted," said Trish. "And I'm not going to ask anything, but I've heard more than enough of what's going on that I'll be shocked if you don't get that count up to two soon. And have you at least ameliorated things for some of the others?"

"Some, for sure," said Karen. "And it does make me feel better, that I'm still helping in that way." She couldn't quite hide the nerves as she said this, still afraid of Trish's anger at the decision she had made in what was now years into her past, but much more recent in Trish's.

But Trish just said, "If that's the role you've fallen into, well, you could've ended up doing worse. We both could've." They both fell silent then, for they had much to contemplate there on how lucky Trish especially had been.

"I nearly turned you in." Trish nearly whispered the confession. "After I left your apartment that day. I stood outside the police station, and I honestly don't know why I didn't go in."

"You didn't," said Karen, glad she was only learning this now. "Maybe that's the only thing that matters anymore. I didn't get arrested, and you were only in the Raft for a month, in the end, and, well, we're both good and happy now, right? I mean, I know I really am. I feel like I've gotten off lucky in life, all things considered."

"Not as lucky as me, obviously," said Trish, but she fell silent for a moment, and then another, and Karen started to fear she would sudden realize she wasn't. Until she said, "And yes, I think I am happy. I do think your friend Dinah was right when she said to you that it can be hard to tell for people like us, where we've wrecked it up and started over multiple times. But right now, things are good, and I think I'll be able to keep them that way this time. Maybe that's the lesson we all need to learn, how to keep what's good.

Like this friendship. That's still one of the things I'm most sorry for, that I nearly threw it away completely, even though there are other things I should feel worse about."

"We both of us valued it too little," Karen agreed. "Why don't we agree right here we keep it going? No matter the light-years, fights, fuck ups, and life complications we have between us, let's agree to always be there for each other, as much as we can manage?"

"Agreed," said Trish, and the two women shook on it.