If it wasn’t bad enough waking up in what… Luke had no idea where he was. Some museum exhibit, maybe. He still had questions on why the toga and sandals or the set of dog tags around his neck. …But at hearing the English accent speaking to him, everything suddenly made sense. At least for the split second that he forgot Kilgrave was dead.

His arms flexed and blood pressure rose, hoping his immediate identification was off. It couldn’t be. It better not be.

Yet there he was. As pompous as ever.

Luke reached for Kilgrave’s throat, nothing but hate on his face. “Hell. It must be hell for you to be here."