look | darcy + malcolm, friendship
Malcolm felt better, now that Kilgrave was dead.
It was a disconcerting feeling, to be glad about someone’s death – he had always believed in the good in people, believed that there was something kind, and giving, and generous in everyone, but… Kilgrave. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive Kilgrave for what he did to Jessica, for what he did to Ruben and Robyn, for what he did to all those innocent people – and if he was being honest, he could never forgive the man. Not after Malcolm saw what Kilgrave forced him to become.
Malcolm wondered what his life would be like if Kilgrave had never gotten his claws in him. He’d still be at home, living in Brooklyn, working to get his degree. He never would’ve met Jessica, who let him answer her calls and gave him her extra key and kept chunky peanut butter in her kitchen, just for him. He never would’ve met Robyn, who baked him banana bread and broke into his apartment to do his dishes and gave evil eyes whenever she thought Jessica was working him too hard. He would’ve never met Claire, who helped him during his relapses and got him a job volunteering at the hospital and whipped him into shape when he felt like giving up.
And above all, he would’ve never met Darcy. Darcy, who worked for a law firm that decided to represent all of Kilgrave’s victims, pro bono. Darcy, who took none of Jessica’s shit and matched her barb for barb when Malcolm couldn’t get through to her. Darcy, who told him firmly that it wasn’t his fault – and to hear someone say it to him, rather than having to say the words to everyone else… it really made it sink in.
It wasn’t his fault.
It wasn’t that he was in love with her – God no, he was not ready for a relationship when he was still trying to piece his own life back together – but they were friends. Not that Jessica and Robyn and Claire weren’t his friends, but they were like older sisters, as odd as it was to think of them that way. He couldn’t really hang out with them, or watch movies, or grab lunch – Jessica saw no point in any activity that didn’t involve work or sex or alcohol, while Claire was constantly working. And Robyn – Robyn was still operating under the incorrect impression that he was in love with her, and frankly, he didn’t want to encourage her any further.
Darcy though – Darcy was refreshingly normal. Outspoken, brazen, and yeah, he knew she had secrets of her own, but she dragged him out to bars and grabbed brunch with him on the weekends and wandered around Central Park with him when he needed to get some air. She was a friend – frankly, one of the best friends he’s had in a really long time – and it was surprisingly easy to admit that if it hadn’t been for Kilgrave, he probably never would’ve met the girl who was quickly becoming one of his closest friends.
So, in some ways, Malcolm wanted to thank Kilgrave, as much as he hated the guy. Don’t get him wrong – he still wanted to smash the guy’s face in with a baseball bat – but he wanted to thumb his nose and laugh.
“Look,” he wanted to say. “Look at what you did to me, and look at how I got better. Look – you tried, and you failed. You didn’t win; I did.”