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daredevilkink2015-06-01 05:48 pm
ddk_mod) wrote in daredevilkink2015-06-01 05:48 pm
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Prompt Post #3
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A Dark Alley and a Bad Idea Part 2.4
(Anonymous) 2015-08-18 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)“No, Foggy, I’m going in.”
Foggy hadn’t said a word, but if they were as good a pair of friends as he had insinuated, it was natural that words were no longer needed between them.
The door swung open on hinges Foggy had actually oiled after seeing the way Matt shied away from the sound. Another kindness he had not expected, another debt he could not pay.
The Human force of nature that was Claire swept into the room, flipping the rug back into its rightful place, shoving aside a pile of books Foggy had left pressed against the wall, throwing open the blinds he had closed out of pure habit. She was businesslike, efficient, and frightened. She knew him, maybe not by name or even reputation, but Claire knew him for what he was. She sensed it in the way every prey animal knew its predator.
“You got a name?”
“I told you,” Foggy cut in exasperatedly, “Matt Mur-”
“I want to hear it from him, Foggy. Maybe you could grab us a coffee.”
“Are you shooing me out of my own room? Not happening, Claire.”
Matt spoke over him, not bothering to lever himself up. “Matt-”
“What the hell, weren’t you the one that said stress was bad? He’s strung out on painkillers and just waking up, give him a few minutes at least.”
“Murdock.” Matt finished calmly, for all the world as though this encounter had played out according to an invisible script drafted by his own hand. For the first time since his awakening he felt in control, collected and prepared.
He didn’t care to dwell on why it was that being attacked put him firmly back in his comfort zone.
Claire moved around the bed cautiously, brushing past his very surprised and increasingly annoyed host. The swish of her sleeve against his told Matt she was still dressed in scrubs, the whisper of her shoes said they were flat, the soles worn down to nothing. The stinging scent of antiseptic clung to her, latex and powder, a softer undertone of lotion just beneath- scentless and inoffensive. She was a nurse, he remembered, and evidently only just off shift. So much for leaving town.
Her eyes raked him from head to covered torso, taking in every injury in between. He could feel the weight of it on his skin, but made no move to conceal himself from her scrutiny. Between them, at least, he had nothing left to hide.
“Seriously, Foggy, I need to have a look at some of this. Privacy would be appreciated. And coffee.”
“And coffee.” Foggy repeated, a bite in his tone Matt had begun to think he might not be capable of. The flat tone of the words said clearly he did not take kindly to this intrusion, and he intended to make it known at length as soon as they had a moment alone. Matt heard the hesitation in his steps though, the way they dragged along the floor, the way his hand slid along the door knob before taking it in a firm grip. Whatever Foggy thought he knew of Matt, it did nothing to temper his protectiveness of an injured man.
Matt filed that away in case of future need.
“Thank you, Foggy.” He was careful not to raise his voice though Foggy was across the room. That had been among the first of Stick’s lessons- animals only cried out in fear, and men only raised their voices when they knew they were defenseless.
Evidently it was reassurance enough for Foggy; he slid out of the room, stomping to the kitchen in a restrained temper. Matt could almost pity Claire the argument she would have on her hands once she left.
She paused at his bedside just beyond his reach. She was tense and wary, uncertain of how much owed itself to the demanding rigors of her job and how much to the man lying unnaturally still in the bed before her. There was a quality to his languid movements as he slowly levered himself up, unconcernedly pulling the sheets away from his worse injuries that had her frozen in her tracks, battling a wave of unease.
A devilish impulse made Matt smile, turning his head to look in Claire’s general direction. She would meet his gaze by instinct, he knew. “And how was your sister?”
“Fine, thanks.” His estimation of her rose a notch when she forced herself to take those last steps forward, patting down her pockets as she made so bold as to sit down beside him. Her hands were firm but gentle as she helped him up, gliding past his wounds experimentally. “Looks like you’re not, though.”
She was striving for normalcy, recognizing the threat he presented and already seeking a way to neutralize him. He respected it even as it complicated his position even further. She would discuss everything with Foggy, share her misgivings and compound his own…
Matt began to regret his recklessness. Only a bit.
“Some of these need to be pulled out. Whatever you’ve been doing today, stop.” He tried not to flinch when the sutures pulled beneath her questing fingertips, but bared his teeth in a silent snarl instead. He was already wishing he had asked Foggy to stay when it was so plain he had been waiting for the invitation. Foggy would have made her ask before she began pulling bandages and sutures from her pocket, iodine and gloves-
He started at the cool press of an alcohol prep pad, crushing her fingers in a desperate grip before she could go for the syringe he had never even suspected she had. “Don’t.”
“It’s a local anesthetic. You’re going to want it in a minute or two.”
“Don’t.” Matt insisted, consciously releasing his grip when he felt her hand flexing beneath the strain.
To her credit she hesitated only a second, almost palpably running through a list of alternatives before finally deciding to honor his request. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And don’t squirm.”
The stinging was a comfort in its own way, familiar and welcome in a world turned upside down. Matt focused on the pain, cataloging and analyzing until it became nothing more than another sensation to add to the veritable cacophony already wreaking havoc on his senses. Claire didn’t speak but he could feel in the brush of her gloved hands against his skin that she was consciously trying to suppress her wariness, operating on the same principles of observation and analysis that were keeping his thoughts clear.
Her breathing steadied again, movements becoming more sure as she lost herself in her work with only the occasional hiss or tut to indicate what she thought of his injuries. It was enough to reassure him his recovery would be no more than business as usual, with the exception of the unexpected companions he had attracted.
“Companions” was too strong a word, he shied from it instinctively.
“What the hell have you been doing?” She muttered, forgetting her reticence in dismay. “I told Foggy these couldn’t get wet. They’re soluble.”
“We were careful.”
“Not careful enough.” She sniped back, still careful at her work despite the frustration she didn’t even bother to hide. “Try to actually stay in bed this time, all right? Don’t let Foggy boss you out of it.”
The casual assumption that Foggy could boss him around was evidence enough that he didn’t have the full story. What he had seen of Foggy so far was nothing if not easy-going, but Matt found he was continuously reminding himself he had known this man for all of a day, if that. It was distressing how many times he needed to be reminded; a clear indication he was not in his right mind.
“You probably don’t realize how bad this is, so I’m going to try to put this in terms you can understand. Someone used you as their personal chew toy. You are ripped and torn in places humans are not meant to be ripped or torn, and if your guts are stuffing then-”
“That’s gross, Claire!”
Claire pulled a little too hard and Matt barely restrained himself from knocking her forcefully away. He had known Foggy was lingering in the living room, the coffee pot bubbling merrily in the kitchen, prepared in record time, but Matt forgot sometimes he was not the only man with sharp hearing. Especially since most of the time his partners seemed all but deaf in comparison.
“Sorry.” She brushed a soothing finger along the edge of the wound, masking one sensation with another. If nothing else he appreciated the effort.
“Shut up, I’m working!”
Matt very deliberately did not wince at the shout; it had the ring of long familiarity to it. He got the sense they had gone through this before to the point that it had become old hat.
He entertained himself with the thought of Foggy blithely collecting injured people to drop in Claire’s capable hands like a child that couldn’t resist feeding the stray that had followed him home. His snort of amusement turned into a huff of annoyance. If this was habit then it was no surprise Foggy was attracted to a woman that by his admission was already deep in hot water; he couldn’t even blame it on Claire for dragging Foggy down with her. Not when Foggy was such a willing accomplice.
A.N.: Yet another pathetically short and terribly late part. Sorry, folks, but I have a new job and it is kicking my @$$. Normal update schedule by Sunday! :)
OP here
(Anonymous) 2015-08-22 12:58 am (UTC)(link)Re: OP here
(Anonymous) 2016-01-11 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)It certainly took a while, but I'm up and running again. More to come soon!
Re: A Dark Alley and a Bad Idea Part 2.4
(Anonymous) 2015-09-23 12:02 am (UTC)(link)Re: A Dark Alley and a Bad Idea Part 2.4
(Anonymous) 2016-01-11 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: A Dark Alley and a Bad Idea Part 2.4
(Anonymous) 2015-12-27 05:11 am (UTC)(link)Re: A Dark Alley and a Bad Idea Part 2.4
(Anonymous) 2016-01-11 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)