•Trish Walker POV•

After the fiasco at her apartment building, Trish goes to Jessica's apartment. She opens the door, and sees her adopted sister sitting at her desk, drinking scotch. "I saw what happened." She says, casually.

"Yeah? Why weren't you there?"

"I'm not a superhero anymore." Jessica says, getting out of her chair. She stands next to Trish.

"I know someone who can help you with IGH." Trish says.

"Who?" Jessica says, curious.

"Laurel Lance."

"The chick from Star City?"

"Yeah."

"No." Jessica says.

"Why not?" Trish questions. "She's smart, and would be willing to help you!"

"Because I don't need some defense attorney helping me!"

Trish's phone buzzes. It was an alert from the news.

Defense Attorney Laurel Lance is hospitalized after run in with New York City's Apartment Bomber

"Shit." Trish says, grabbing Jessica's arm. "We have to go."

Trish runs through the halls of the hospital, dragging Jessica behind her.

She frantically asks a doctor where Laurel is.

"She's in surgery." The doctor says.

Trish rubs her face with her hands. "What's your obsession with Lance?" Jessica asks.

"I met her when my apartment was bombed." Trish says. "She's my friend."

Jessica nods, and they sat down in the waiting room.

The hours they sat there were long and painful. Trish stresses over what happened, and Jessica sat there cool as a cucumber.

"Miss Walker?" A nurse says as Trish was starting to doze off.

She snaps awake. "Wha-? Yes?"

"Miss Lance is out of surgery."

"Can I go see her?"

"She's still asleep, but you can." Trish gets up from her chair. She beckons Jessica.

She walks into the silent room. The beeps of Laurel's heart monitor are the only sounds in the room.

Trish sits in the chair next to Laurel's bed, and says that she was sorry over and over again.

"If you say sorry one more time, I'm going to hit you." Laurel says, her eyes still closed. A grin was on her face. Her eyes open, and she looks at Jessica. "Who's that?"

"I'm Jessica Jones." She says.

"Ah, I heard about you." Laurel replies.

"Laurel, when you recover, could you help Jessica with something?" Trish asks.

"Of course." Laurel sits up, but she grunts, and lays back down.

"No, you don't have to."

"I want to."

Jessica sighs. "Alright, fine."