Prompt Post #6

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FILL: Legacy, or, Five Times Matt and Josie Didn't Talk; and One Time They Did. (1/5)

[(Anonymous)]

1.

The last time Josie sees Matthew Murdock is at the funeral, looking small and lost in a too-big suit, hands wrapped around his white cane. She wants to say something, but what the hell could she say? I was your dad’s bit on the side, and I gambled my life savings on that fight, and he knew, and it’s probably my fault he’s dead; so sorry for that, kid. She’s heard Jack’s face was so smashed in they wouldn’t let the kid touch it, had to ID him with dental records; and catches herself wondering how that even works if half your teeth are knocked out.

Matt’s there with a nun--not Maggie, as if Saint Maggie would ever get her feet dirty on the ground with the rest of the sinners of Hell’s Kitchen; and if she did, Josie’s not sure she could stop herself from saying a thing or three. Rip the cross off her sanctimonious goddamn neck for what she did to--

But that’s beside the point, because it’s not Maggie, just some generic penguin. She looks nice enough, but Josie keeps catching Matt edging away. She wonders if he’s okay, wherever they sent him off to. Wonders if he knows she offered to take him in; that they said no, because she wasn’t kin, and even if she were, she wouldn’t be a fit parent: unmarried woman who served cheap rye to two-strike ex-cons and lived in the walk-up above the bar. She was pretty sure she knew what the neighbors would’ve said about her if anyone had asked. What anyone would’ve said. Except maybe Jack.

He left the cross on. That had to mean something, right? Maggie’s cross, and she’d seen how he took it off to drink or to fight or send some cheap piece a cheap drink. But with Josie, he’d left it on, and that had to mean something. So she’d put all her money on him, even knowing he was supposed to take a fall. Like he was some kind of hero who could rise above; and she’d as good as killed the only good thing that had ever happened to her.

Matt taps his way to the grave, kneels to drop in a handful of dirt. He crosses himself like it’s a reflex, leaving a smudge on one lapel, then stands there silently at the edge of the hole until the nun puts a hand on his shoulder to steer him back.

Josie can’t leave it like this. She won’t. Waits after, until everyone else has muttered their well wishes and I’m sorrys, then goes up to Matt. Ignores the nun, and gets down on one her knees so they’re face to face, (and that’s the end of this dress, which is fine, not like she has anywhere to wear a dress like that anyway).

“Your dad was a good man,” she tells Matt. “No matter what anyone else says. Your dad was a good man, and he loved you more than anything in the world. You remember that.”

There’s more she could say, but she won’t. Doesn’t know if the kid says anything back, because by then, she’s already stumbling away, half running in shoes that aren’t meant for soft ground.