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ddk_mod ([personal profile] ddk_mod) wrote in [community profile] daredevilkink2015-05-16 07:55 pm
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Dark!Fill: No Place for Good Men 1/3

(Anonymous) 2015-05-27 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Warning: mentions of attempted rape, drug abuse, fantasies of self harm,suicide attempt, mentions of mental institution, homelessness, homophobia, misgendering



He divides his life like this:

Before he meets Wilson Fisk.

And after.

The before isn’t work remembering really. When Wesley closes his eyes it’s a mass of dark colors streaked through with red, insubstantial but still viable like smoke hanging in the air. It's just moments jumbled together.

The suicide attempt.

Being pushed down, having his threadbare jeans ripped open.

The drugs; making him feel light, every move effortless as if he dancing. The dirty, derelict building where some john had taken him was now a field of light.

He remembers being yet another homeless teenager, surviving on the money from blowjobs and luck.

And before that his mother hitting him and hitting him until he was curled into a ball on the kitchen floor, hands over his head.

He had, with a teenage arrogance and total disregard for the consequences told her he was gay.

That was the reason he’d been beaten and thrown out of his parent’s God fearing house. And in the end it wasn’t even true, he wasn’t a butch lesbian — but something else completely.

He doesn't realize that until he's older though. I'm a man, not a woman. But doing anything about that seemed impossible being on the streets.

The alcohol helps, the drugs help him forget; not a she – a he.

But in the end when he takes the final leap, cold metal against his wrist he knows he's doing the right thing.

***

He’s never been sure why Fisk’s people check him out of the psychiatric ward.

Wesley would suspect pity, but Fisk isn’t that kind of man.

Or maybe it was a kind of kinship. What they shared even back then.

He’d cut off the balls of the man who got him high and tried to rape him. Left him to bleed out in an abandon warehouse. Murder, self defense, but murder just the same.

He'd been terrified of going to prison when he'd turned the knife on himself.

***
Fisk bribes a doctor and one very overworked judge, takes Wesley out of the psychiatric ward, moves him to London and gave him a job.


Administrative assistant.

It is the first job he’d ever had that paid better than minimum wage. He get’s an flat too, and a new wardrobe — office appropriate

They’re all women’s cloths but at that point Wesley is too afraid they’ll send him back to the ward if he complains.

Being misgendered is nothing compared to prison or being homeless.

Still he chooses to where only pants suit. He can't abide dresses, they remind him too much of what he isn't.

He wants to thank Fisk — Mr. Fisk — but doesn’t have the guts, besides it’s not like they spent time together. Wesley only sees Fisk passing by Wesley’s desk when he get’s into the office, and then again when leaves at night.

Fisk is a huge, intimidating figure even without being a powerful millionaire and Wesley’s savior. So Wesley keeps his head down and tries to repay the depth by being the best administrative assistant Fisk employs.

And there is a certain comfort in that, in being the best, in organizing papers just so, photocopying, filing.

The other assistants don’t work as hard as he does, leaving early, taking long breaks. Wesley watches them as the leave together chatting, going to go to a pub for a long lunch together.

He eats at his desk, while answering emails, and never takes break.

After hours he don’t socialize either. There’s just not a lot he has in common with the other office workers, so he keeps to himself.

A year go by and with all of this, even if it is not perfect, Wesley thinks he can be happy, because it’s a lot better than anything he’s had before.

***

“Ms. Wesley?”

He looks up at the man in a well-tailored suit. No one he knows although to be here talking to him he must be in Fisk’s employ.

“Mr. Fisk would like to speak with you.” The man folds his hands in front of him, obviously waiting. So Wesley stands and then follows him down the hall.

He’s never been to Fisk’s office, only has a rough idea of where it is, but he knows what the double oak doors mean as soon as he sees them. He stiffens and watches as the suited man pulls them open and ushers him in.

In some part of his mine he’d expected wood paneled luxury but Fisk’s office is all glass and steel. Fisk himself stands behind his desk in an impeccable back suit that makes every part of Wesley’s being yearn.

The door closed behind him and Fisk turned. “Ms. Wesley?”

Wesley hated it, hated it more than anything. To be misgendered — mistook for the woman he wasn’t — by anyone else was bad, hearing it come from Fisk was like dying.

He forced himself to answer anyway. “Yes.”

“Your superiors tell me your work is exemplary.” Fisk moved around his desk to stand, hands clasped behind his back in front of Wesley. “You tidy, punctual, and go above and behind the call of duty as it were.”

Fisk’s gaze scanned up and down Wesley’s body. Wesley kept his gaze straight ahead and did not move.

“In fact the only bad word have heard against you is that you have not made any social connection since going into our employment.” Fisk cocked his head to the side. “You do not socialize outside of the work place, why?”

Now Wesley met his gaze. “I don’t seem to have anything in common with my colleagues.” He said. “And I — do not easy form attachments.”

“No,” Fisk was still watching him. “I suppose you don’t.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Fisk signed and turned away.

“I am in need of a personal assistant.” He said examining one of the plate glass windows that looked out at view of the London skyline. “My last one…” He paused as if struggling to put his thoughts into words. “Has unfortunately left my employment.” Fisk finally said. “I am looking to replace him. I don’t know if we will suit each other Ms. Wesley, but there is a charity gala I will be attending at the end of the week. We will see if you can handle arranging it for me and if your work proves to be acceptable you will accompany me to the gala. After that.” Fisk turned back to him unlocking his hands to let them hang by his side. “We will see. That is if you are interested.”

“Of course.” Wesley didn’t even need to think about it. To have such a position, so much better than the one he had, closer to Fisk. “Of course I am interested.”

“Good.” Fisk nodded. “I’ll have Mr. Aaron show you to your new office.”

As if on cue the door behind Wesley opened, the suited man who had led him here, standing on the other side.

“Thank you.” Wesley said to Fisk, meaning it to the bottom of his heart, and then followed Mr. Aaron out.