The two idiots who were robbing the convenience store were amateurs at best. They appeared to be two high school students who fumbled with the gun even as they pulled it on the cashier. Jessica didn't even need to say a word. She delivered a weak hit to the one who didn't hold the gun and he was knocked out in seconds. The other one dropped the gun and made it to the door before Kilgrave stopped him with a sharply-delivered command.

"Delete whatever footage you have of us," he told the shocked cashier. "We don't need the attention."

"Th-thank you," the cashier stuttered out.

"Now," Kilgrave said in reply.

"It wouldn't kill you to be a little nicer," Jessica muttered as she grabbed a six pack of beer from the back.

"We're in a bit of a hurry," Kilgrave snapped. "Patsy's waiting for us, isn't she?"

"With bells on."

"Yes, I'm sure she was ecstatic to learn that you've been helping me."

Jessica avoided his gaze and pulled her wallet out to pay for the snacks. "Yeah, definitely."

"She doesn't know she's seeing ms again, does she?"

"Not exactly. She just knows you're some British guy with mummy issues who needs help."

"But you never told her we've met before?"

"Nope, I think she'll figure it out when she recognizes you."

"How do you plan to explain? I don't imagine her being pleased to see me again."

Jessica paid for everything and didn't answer until they were back on the subway. Usually Kilgrave would turn down just the suggestion of public transportation, but this was Jessica's condition for him meeting Trish and being allowed into her apartment. She'd never actually expected him to agree. He wouldn't sit next to her, claiming he couldn't know what else had been in that chair, but otherwise he didn't complain.

"As long as you don't make her do anything, it should be fine. You two haven't seen each other in years so I'm sure it won't be that big a deal."

"As I remember it, you two didn't get along. You tolerated her," he mused. "What changed?"

"We grew up," Jessica answered. "I scared her mom into never touching her again, and we just got closer. Now, we're living together."

"I don't imagine you two have much in common."

"Sometimes opposites attract. We're almost like actual sisters now."

"So, am I allowed to say anything beyond hello?"

"If you can't say anything nice, shut the fuck up," she said.

"Am I allowed to stay for dinner?"

"Only if we make it past introductions without her attempting to hurt you," Jessica compromised. "Which is pretty unlikely with your charm and personality. It's a miracle you've survived this long."

"Maybe I do have some effect on you then," he casually suggested, looking down at her.

She snorted. "In your dreams. It takes more than a few saved lives and shitty meals for me to give a guy like you a chance."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. I'll settle for a tenuous friendship."

"Since we're friends, can I tell you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Purple is really not your color."

Arriving, Trish greeted Jessica at the door enthusiastically. But the second her eyes met Kilgrave's, her smile fell and her eyes darted to Jessica warily.

"What's he doing here?" she asked. "Please tell me that's not who I think it is. He hasn't changed much."

"Oh, good, it's nice to know I made such an impression on you the last time we met," Kilgrave said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Great seeing you again, Patsy, I do enjoy your talk show."

"Trish," she spat. "It's Trish."

"And I'm Kilgrave. Now, that we're through with the introductions, mind if I join you for dinner?" he asked somewhat politely.

Trish's eyes darted back to Jessica, and it wasn't hard to notice her feeling of betrayal.

"Go make yourself comfortable, Kevin," Jessica said and shut the door behind him, leaving her and Trish alone in the hall. She knew she would regret telling him that later, just as she now regretted bringing him at all.

Trish crossed her arms and waited.

"You wanted to meet him," Jessica said weakly in her own defense.

Trish's lips thinned. "You neglected to mention we've met before."

"Okay, maybe I missed that crucial fact, and maybe I could have warned you. But I never thought you two would meet again!"

"Whether you thought we would meet again or not, you shouldn't be around him at all! There's the little problem of his ability to make people do whatever the fuck he wants. How do I know you're not under his influence right now?And even if you aren't, am I just supposed to be okay with him being in my apartment? Did you forget him taking away my voice? Because I sure as hell didn't."

"Trish, that's the reason I'm around him in the first place," Jessica sighed. "I don't really think I can change him. He's Kilgrave now, he's fucked up for life. But we're kind of friends, and he just didn't know how to help people. He didn't know how to use his powers to benefit anyone besides himself. But lately, he's been helping me save people. A lot of people. He'll always be a selfish bastard, but at least now I can rest a little better knowing he can control himself well enough not to lose complete control."

"How do you know he's not just lying or pretending?"

"How can I know if anyone's being honest?" Jessica challenged. "I can't, but so far he hasn't ordered me to do anything. Just give him a chance. It's not like I'm not saying we should have him over all the time."

Trish checked her watch and mumbled, "Fine, the pizza's getting here in ten minutes anyway. We eat and he leaves."

"Deal," Jessica agreed. "Wait, pizza? Not one of your healthy meals?"

"It's been a long day," Trish groaned as she opened the door. "And you just made it longer."

"I'm sorry," Jessica winced. "He'll be gone in less than an hour, I promise."

"I hope so, you owe me another night of drinks after this."

They found him lounging on the sofa with a beer open in his hand. His phone was in his hand, but he turned it off as soon as he saw them coming back into the living room. Jessica tried not to notice how well he fit inside Trish's living room, practically posing on his end of the couch. Jessica took the spot beside him and Trish stayed standing under the pretense of checking her own text messages on the other end of the room.

"She doesn't want me here," he remarked.

"What did you expect?"

"More shouting. To be honest, I didn't expect to make it past the front door."

"Then why come at all?"

"Because I was curious," he replied. "And because she didn't know about me."

"She didn't need to know about you," Jessica mumbled.

"Now, I'm still new to this whole morality thing, but aren't secrets between close friends bad?" he asked innocently.

"Not if you're hiding something to protect them."

"But how can you know they need to be protected and what they need to be protected from?"

"Stop it," Jessica retorted. "You're trying to make me doubt myself."

"Is it working?" he asked, leaning closer to her.

She shoved him away with a glare. She was tempted to use this chance to ask him what he'd been hiding from her about the favor, but instead what came out was, "No, it's not. Because secrets never stay secrets for long anyway."

Trish chose that moment to join them and tell them about the next guest she would have on the show, a popular novelist who wrote about controversial issues like suicide and abortion. She made sure to speak in a measured voice and kept her eyes on Jessica. It wasn't hard to guess what she was doing. Ten minutes later, the pizza arrived, and, not one to be ignored, Kilgrave stood to answer it.

"I'll get it," Trish argued. "It's our apartment."

"Yes, it is, but I wouldn't want you to cut your conversation short, and I am the guest who ruined your night. It's the least I could do."

Trish clenched her hands into fists. "Fine."

He beamed at her in a manner she found infuriating before pulling open the door and paying for the pizza. When he brought the box back to them, she watched him warily. "What?" he asked. "I paid."

"With whose money?" she questioned.

He glanced at Jessica. "Not entirely sure, to be honest. Whose money were you going to pay him with? Or was yours freshly printed?"

She grabbed two beers for her and Jessica from the fridge. "Okay, so why pay at all then? Couldn't you have just told him to go away or something?"

"Yes, but that would have been wrong. Right, Jessica?"

Jessica smirked. "Correct, young grasshopper."

"So, you really are teaching him morals?" Trish asked.

"Trying to," Jessica said. "It doesn't make him any less of a prick, but he is learning."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" he asked. "I'm not exactly flattered."

"You're not supposed to be, I was just being honest," she shrugged. "I don't expect you to change into Jesus after just a month. Or at all, really. I'd settle for just you never killing again."

"I think I could manage that," he nodded. "Especially, seeing as I've never killed anyone before."

Jessica glared at him. "Do we have to go over this again?"

"Maybe I've made a few mistakes," he acknowledged. "But all I ever did was say the wrong thing! Being around you has taught me that I need to be more careful with my words and have better control over my impulses."

"That's an improvement, at least," Jessica told Trish.

"I can only imagine how he was before," Trish agreed.

"Some gratitude for paying for this would be nice," he said, opening the box to grab the first slice.

"Thanks," Trish replied and got her own piece.

The three of them finished the pizza as they finished their discussion on morals. Somehow, this led back to Trish's guest.

"Her latest book is on the death penalty," Trish said. "Where do you stand on that?"

"Are you trying to have an argument?" he asked.

"Depends on where you stand," she countered, her eyes glinting. "But really, it would be more of a debate than an argument."

"Well, obviously there are some people who don't deserve to live," he said. "But then, as Jessica's repeatedly told me, who are we to make that call""

"So, you're against the death penalty, then?"

"I can't really say. On the one hand, some prisoners wish for it while some would rather be stuck in jail for the rest of their lives."

"Which would you prefer?" Trish asked out of curiosity.

"Life, obviously. I could come and go as I please, and I would get a free show out of it."

"Shouldn't have asked," Jessica said, rolling her eyes.

"Good thing he lives in New York," Trish commented.

"If he doesn't change by the time I'm done with him, I'll knock him out and ship him to Texas."

"I'll help."

"I'm sitting right here," he reminded them.

"It was a warning," Jessica explained to him as Trish gathered their bottles along with the pizza box to throw them away.

He just rolled his eyes and stood to stretch over his head. "I'll never have to worry about the death penalty, Jessica."

"I know you won't," Jessica said sweetly. "Because if you screw up, I'll kill you."

"What else are friends for?" he asked sarcastically.

"Hell if I know, Trish is my only other friend and that's because of her mother."

"We can still assume that this is a very twisted friendship."

"Yes, yes, we can."

An hour later, after an awkward goodbye to both Trish and Jessica, he was back in "his" penthouse apartment with a glass of wine in one hand and a copy of that novel Trish had mentioned earlier. All in all, the author had done adequate research and the story was poignant enough to bring a tear to the average reader's eye. Kilgrave was not the average reader.

In his mind, he tore the story to pieces. The protagonist, the prisoner, was weak, submitting to his fate. His wife leaves him, and all he has to say for himself is he deserves it, Kilgrave scoffed. He wouldn't do that. All his life, he'd fought and taken all he could get his hands on. Natural selection hadn't just been a theory in his mind. Jessica had been an example of that in his adolescent years.

Jessica, he thought. She fought for everything, everyone, even those who didn't even deserve it. Yes, he was learning that others' lives meant just as much as his did, but it was hard remembering that without remembering her. She was getting to him. Even here on "his"'balcony as he enjoyed a glass of red wine.

The apartment itself was empty of its actual owners. Why had he made them all leave the moment he'd made them let him stay? Was it the thoughtless look in their eyes that now disturbed him? Was it their empty replies?

His evening ruined, he drank the rest of his wine in a single gulp and threw away the book he'd found on their bookshelf. Usually reading such things would have him chuckling, but that night it left him feeling worn. The apartment belonged to a childless couple who enjoyed such touching novels based on true stories. Their bookshelf was full of them. It was incredible what living in other people's worlds could teach you about them.

For example, thus couple had a nursery ready for a child that might never come. Painted yellow with stuffed animals crowded in a corner of the room and charts with numbers and the alphabet raped to the walls. He wondered if his nursery had looked like this or if his nursery had always been made up of flat, white walls and surgical tools. He'd always thought of people like this as dolls or characters in his story that he could manipulate.

Remembering he'd thought the same of Trish in his teenage years and when he'd read the information gathered by his private investigator, he wondered what had changed when he'd actually met her again? Why did he no longer see her as a pawn?

Now he could see he'd disrupted their lives. Seeing the nursery was like a revelation that made him realize why the couple's eyes had stirred him so deeply. They reminded him of what Jessica's had looked like in the nightmare.